#hello everyone i have been going crazy over these characters and no this is not all of them

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part I

OKAY SO. after speaking to literally two people about some oc transformer fic ive been working on, ive decided to post just chapter 1 here, to see if anyone else would like to see the ocs ive been quietly going crazy for in the background. instead of writing actual proper fanfic ive decided to just go off the rails writing a canon elaboration on characters who dont exist. i will now make it everyone elses problem.

tbh im intending to keep writing this for as long as it brings me joy, and im already working on chapter 2. whether this gets attention or not won't change that fact. just kinda posting here to garner some attention/see if anyone else would like to get invested in my silly lil ocs.

this takes place in sorta a g1/idw mixed continuity, im not particularly picky or strict about canon, because really, im just here to have fun and vibe. it will focus on my OCs, not canon characters, though a couple will still be present :> this idea has been one that nagged at me for a bit--isnt it a bit weird that the decepticons just straight up seem to abandon their prior base on earth in g1 following the movie? i wondered for a while what it'd be like if any of them were left behind. so, i've decided to make an oc for it and explore that a little. aaaaaand then i kinda went off the rails (but we'll get there, lol). if none of that is particularly off-putting to you, feel free to proceed! and comments are always appreciated if you enjoy

Summary: Invert is a nobody. One of a million Seekers constructed for a war that would claim their lives, she's survived due to her uselessness. Forged with a defective frame and kept around for a single devastating ability that hurts her to use it, she may as well be a glorified cleaning bot. Months after the other Decepticon's left to assault Autobot City, Invert remains behind on Earth, waiting, on the sunken Victory, maintaining the base and holding out hope that her brethren will eventually return.

But with only silence and an emotionless ship for company, she's started to become increasingly desperate--so much so, that, when an SOS from a ship that should be empty arrives, she just might throw caution to the wind and leave on a mission that could change her life.

Luster was somebody, once. Was. He can't remember any of it. Having disappeared at the start of the war on some ludicrous quest, only now has he awoken on a strange planet called 'Earth'. Accepted back by his Autobot brethren, the void of his past haunts him endlessly, as does a mysterious, insatiable hunger. He's determined to get to the bottom of both--but with the fog they produce only deepening, how long does he have before he's lost eternally?

Chapter 1 --Word Count 7495

Orbital cycle: 6.3. Approximately 182.5 solar cycles since initial launch for attack on Autobot City. Diagnostic report: no structural damage detected. Energon levels: 27%. Energon levels of 50% recommended for full functionality. Defense systems: offline. Offensive systems: offline. Cloaking systems: online. Communications: partially online. Power saving mode recommended at Energon levels of 25%. 

She records the report in her datapad down to the final recommendation, which really was not necessary, considering any proper engineer would have understood that by now, the ship should have entered power saving mode eons ago. If it had been placed in that mode when the other Decepticons had initially left, the current Energon levels would sit comfortably at the recommended 50%, and she would still have the long distance communications beacon up. But that was in the past, where they were supposed to have returned after a few solar cycles. 

It had been dozens now, and Invert was starting to wonder if her brethren were going to return. A far more patient bot like Shockwave would not have felt any doubt up to the first double digit million years–how else had he held down Cybertron for so long? By comparison she was young, having barely lived for over a million. The hundreds of solar cycles that had passed as she was left alone on the Victory were now starting to seep into her processor, bringing with them questions of uncertainty.

The raid was supposed to last barely a few days. They’d brought everyone in the local system with them. The greatest warriors the Decepticon cause had were deployed. With all of them attacking at once, even the heavily fortified Autobot City should have been leveled in under a deca-cycle. 

And yet there was silence. No cries of victory. No chaotic messages on the airways calling for aid. No declaration of retreat. Just silence. 

They couldn’t be defeated. If they’d been defeated they would have retreated back to Victory. If they’d gone back to Cybertron on Astrotrain, then surely Shockwave would have contacted her on earth. He knew her name. He knew he’d sent her there orbital cycles ago. He’d know they’d left her behind to hold down the fort. 

There was, of course, one other option. Silence was begetting of only a few characteristics when it came to the living. The Autobots, surely, wouldn’t. They were too soft-hearted. But if the attack had truly gone so badly, and they’d deigned it necessary–

Total obliteration. Total razing. Total loss. 

She pushed the thoughts swirling in her processor aside and focused back on Victory’s main computer, typing in a few commands. 

“Victory, run an internal scan. How are your habsuits looking?”

A map of Victory’s internal structure appeared on the screen before her. Dozens of rooms were selected and zoomed in on, each of which specifically served as living space. One by one they started as black, then turned white as they were provided the all clear. 

Structure: stable. Living conditions: adjusted. Doors: unlocked. 

“Alright, that’s good…” she muttered to herself, swapping to the cameras on the outside of the ship. They revealed an empty sea around her, dark and creeping with small organics. Their crude forms made her cringe, even in the restricted view she had of them. “Gross…Victory, illuminate your external hull.” 

Victory obeyed, revealing a vast expanse of metal currently covered in the earth version of space barnacles. The white-shelled creatures had opened their filthy maws, extending forth feelers characteristic of some kind of horror show. Invert grimaced and swapped the camera views, checking instead on the door to the airlock. It was immaculately clean unlike the hull, though a few many legged organics crawled across it. 

She checked the back of the ship, its thrusters, its scope, and finally its body. Making a note of each location that needed proper cleaning, Invert tapped the information into her datapad and closed the camera system before issuing another command. “Victory, check the wavelengths for any signs of communication.” 

The screen before her went black, turning to a single unmoving flat line. She stared at it in silence, waiting for a peak, a leap, a blur, a single beat to indicate that anyone was out there. 

Nothing happened. 

Frowning to herself, she tapped a button on the keyboard before her–the one for “broadcast”. 

“Fellow Decepticons,” she said, “if any of you are out there, I am Invert of Cybertron, broadcasting from the Earth base Victory. I am alone here and have been so since the attack on Autobot City. If you are hearing this message, please respond.” 

Her servo left the button and she waited. And waited. And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And nothing came, as it never did. 

She vented and focused back on her datapad, the frown perched upon her face seemingly eager to make it a permanent home. There was her chore list, plain and simple. It would take her several megacycles to complete: clean the habsuits, clean the storage vault, clean the weapons vault, clean the hallways, feed Victory, scrape away the organics on Victory’s hull, manage the outside of Victory, air another message after seven megacycles, spy on the Autobots if possible.

If possible. The last one was becoming an increasingly harder task to pull off. She was no Soundwave, and Victory’s listening equipment had been down for a while now to preserve power. Furthermore the equipment in Soundwave’s habsuit was either completely foreign or off-limits to her. He may not be here now, but he would return, like the others would, and if he found out she’d been messing with his items, well. She was only a lowly foot soldier, and he was the head of communications of the Decepticon cause. 

She’d be lucky if only her wings were broken off and used to decorate his sparsely covered habsuit. 

Speaking of her wings…she cast a glance down at the inverted things, which pointed towards the ground as opposed to the air. They would do her no favors in navigating the outside of the ship and certainly no aid in reaching the higher spots in the larger habsuits. Her boosters were functional, but the Energon they’d consume to keep her airborne would drain her at twice the levels of a normal Seeker. 

She’d have to use them sparingly if she wanted to continue her present consumption rate of only one Energon cube a day. If she offlined from low power, that was fine; eventually her brethren would return, find her, and bring her back. But without her, no one would feed Victory, who would eventually offline from low power. Victory had to stay online, no matter what. 

Where else would the Decepticons go when they came back, if they didn’t have Victory? 

“I’ll keep you going, girl…” she whispered as she left the control room, reaching a hand out to run along the walls of the ship. Victory, as usual, was silent. It always was. 

Perhaps none of the other Decepticons had shared her sentiment, but Invert had always thought of The Victory (Victory for short) as a fellow ‘con. It was a crashed ship, yes, but it was alive and functional, and it provided them a home within its body. Victory could respond to commands and hold conversations if it so wished; just the majority of the time, it preferred not to. For all she knew Victory was just trapped in permanent stasis lock, and would perhaps free itself one day. 

As such, it was important to take care of Victory, for more purposes than just maintaining a Decepticon earth base. Victory was an ally with much greater might than her. If it fell, everything was lost. 

That was why they’d left her behind when the entire cause had prepared for the assault on Autobot City–it had to be. Someone had to take care of Victory and it was for the better that that someone was her. Perhaps it had been said to her in a less kind way, but the others had had a point when they said that someone who couldn’t contribute properly to a fight would be better off staying behind. 

Okay, they’d said it a lot less kindly. More so, they’d chided her that a flightless Seeker was utterly useless on the field despite whatever “special talent” Shockwave had promised she possessed. And for the battle of Autobot City, they needed soldiers who were functional, powerful, and wouldn’t prove dangerous to their allies as well as their foes. Besides, for swelling their numbers, they had the Insecticon clones. So someone like her, broken, glitched, and more of a liability than anything else, would only be good for ensuring that Victory didn’t somehow miraculously break while they were gone. 

Because really, if Victory was invaded, it wasn’t that big of a deal. The ship was equipped to deal with invasions. Its defensive systems were more than adequate for dispatching invaders both inside and out. Invert was only present within it to mop up the Energon remains of whoever was fool enough to try. 

No one had been–but that could also be attributed to the fact that the Autobots didn’t seem to know where the Decepticon base was. That, or they just didn’t care. Invert preferred the former. Why would it be inconsequential to know where the enemy’s base was, where they were likely to crawl back to and lick their wounds? And surely they were licking their wounds somewhere out there, weren’t they?

So why hadn’t they come back?

She pushed the thought away again and threw open one of the few cleaning closets the ship possessed, grabbing all the equipment she’d need to properly clear out all the habsuits. Nowadays it was more dusting than anything else, but she still brought along a mop and bucket, just in case. 

The habsuits would start with Starscream’s, of course, because if she cleaned anyone else’s first and he found out, he’d throw a fit. And a fit from her commander was not something Invert wanted to sit through. He always treated her with more vitriol than any of the other Seekers, no matter how inconsequential her mistakes might be compared to theirs. She had an ounce of resentment towards him for it, countered only by the fact that, no matter how awful Starscream could be, he was deserving of respect for his flight abilities. 

But that was a low bar. Any winged Decepticon could fly circles around her while all she could do was watch and seethe. 

She vented and tapped the passcode to his habsuit’s door into its keypad, the double doors opening to reveal a pristine and lavishly decorated room. Starscream was nothing if not dramatic and narcissistic. All the valuables and self-care items stored in his habsuit spoke lengths to just what he’d do for a decent polish. Cleaning it was always a nightmare, even after all the times she’d done it before. If even one item was an inch out of place, she’d hear about it later. 

A tiny chuckle escaped her at the thought–when was the last time she’d heard Starscream’s voice for any purpose? Be it admonishing her for attempting even once to be a proper Seeker, bossing her around, treating her as his personal slave, or verbally abusing her to let his Megatron-induced anger out, it had been so long she almost found herself forgetting how cruel the insults had been. 

Almost. She entered his habsuit with her cleaning gear and checked everything over–berth, vanity, table, overly expensive one of a kind statue in his image, all the data-pads he pretended didn’t contain failed plans to assassinate their great leader, full length mirror that somehow hadn’t been broken, each and every one of his polishes and maintenance equipment, and of course, the additional weapons he kept on the wall. 

There wasn’t a speck of dust on anything nor any indication of water damage. The berth was made perfectly.. The floor was clean save for her own pedeprints. And the metal of the walls gleamed like it’d been treated with the same care as Starscream himself. 

There was nothing to clean, but she still gave everything a dust off, just to be safe. Giving everything one final look over for rust, Invert confirmed there to be no contamination on any of Starscream’s immensely precious belongings and left his habsuit, locking it behind her.

One down. At least fifty more to go. She vented again and moved to the next.

—-----

Maintenance was finished by the time the Earth’s sun moved high into the sky. Her internal clock read 16:23, a new method of telling time that had been adjusted for her when she’d arrived on Earth. The planet operated on a twenty-four megacycle basis, working around when the sun would orbit to the other side of the planet. The absence of the sun was named “night”, and could occur anywhere from 17:00-21:00, sometimes later. Having spent much of her time on Cybertron, she had been unaccustomed to Earth’s time, and figured it to be useless for the majority of her stay on the planet. 

“Night” had its benefits, though. Its darkness concealed well, and most organics chose to enter recharge when it came on. It was the perfect time to enact plots, schemes, and occasional terrorist attacks on Autobot City. 

The season Earth was presently in was dubbed “summer”. That meant night would not come until 21:00. She had time. After finishing with the habsuits, Invert focused on maintaining Victory. 

At 16:28 she scraped away the organics on the outside of the hull, using her thrusters to properly climb up onto it. Finishing the front at 17:34, she headed to the side, then the back, ending at 18:20. Once back inside, she accessed the Energon vault and took stock before feeding Victory. 

92 cubes left. Victory sufficed on ten per day. Power saving mode was beginning to look tempting now, if not for the risk that it would cease cloaking. And considering how often she had to transmit, the loss would be nothing short of catastrophic. 

More Energon was needed, then. She’d have to ration herself more. She fit eleven cubes in her arms and brought them to Victory’s engine. As they were tossed in she held the one extra up. 

“To another cycle, Victory.” It was brought to her dermas and promptly consumed. 

Victory gave no response, as always. Invert stared at the empty cube in her servos for only a second before turning to take it back to storage. 

At which point Victory’s system suddenly lit up. The screen turned on behind her, displaying a map of the planet and pinging a specific point somewhere in Asia. Invert looked back and raised her brows. 

“SOS signal of Decepticon origin detected,” Victory stated in its monotone voice. “Displaying coordinates on screen. Incoming message. Playing now.”

Before Invert could even brace herself, an unholy buzzing suddenly sounded through the speakers, so shrill and constant that she collapsed to one knee, instinctively slamming her servos over her audials. Gritting her dentae she opened her hub and turned her audials all the way down, which made the buzzing just tolerable enough for her to reach Victory’s main computer and slam her fist on the OFF button. 

The sound stopped so suddenly it left her processor ringing. She blinked several times, then knocked a fist against the side of her helm, shaking it a few times to properly orient herself. 

Victory had gone silent again, but continued to display the ping and its coordinates. Invert looked up at them, transcribing them in her memory. What kind of distress signal had that been? Victory’s audio systems must be going, perhaps from too much time spent under the Earth’s water. An SOS signal usually captured the sound of blaster fire, of desperate voices crying for help, of bitter regret as whatever ‘con was on the other end laid aside his pride to admit he needed back-up. 

That thought made her uneasy. Buzzing. Why have an SOS signal that was nothing but buzzing? 

“Victory…” she paused, winced, and told herself that it wasn’t going to hurt as badly the second time. “Play the SOS signal again. At a decreased volume!” 

It complied, the loud, painful buzzing sounding over the speakers once more. Invert increased her audials this time, even though the sound made her want to rip them out of her helm. Listening closely, she focused on differentiating corrupted audio from what might be beneath, be it voices, blaster fire, or the sound of fleeing pedesteps. 

But the clip ended without any differentiating sounds. She found that odd, and replayed it in her processor again and again, trying to filter through it. Nothing. Just buzzing.

“Victory, run a diagnostic on your audio systems,” she ordered. The screen changed as Victory did just that, then returned several cycles later with a clear report: nothing was wrong. 

The Energon she’d consumed sat uneasily in her tank. Invert grimaced. “Display the coordinates again,” she commanded, though they were already saved to her memory. Seeing them on the screen solidified her doubts. 

Bali. There was a ship in Bali that she knew about, one that had harbored several unsavory occupants of the Decepticon cause. They, too, had disappeared after the attack on Autobot City. 

Insecticons. Members of the cause notorious for how untrustworthy they were. She hadn’t been around for all the cases where they’d proven themselves to be nothing but hassles who only cared for endless consumption, but she’d read reports of actions and abilities. They were a self-contained group and stuck to their own–why would they call for help now, several orbital cycles after their last appearance in Autobot City?

Buzzing. Their entire signal had just been buzzing. She frowned, thinking it over. Their alt modes were based off of filthy organics, and as such, carried some characteristics of the ugly things. Was the buzzing a possible side effect of that? But they could speak, so why wouldn’t they?

Unless they weren’t able to, for some reason? During an SOS signal? 

An SOS signal from a self-contained, proud group, perfectly capable of surviving on their own, that contained an off-putting buzz likely made to avoid speaking.

Just what were they facing out there that would cause such behavior?

“Victory, open a comm to the Insecticon ship,” she said, leaning over the control panel. “Insecticons, this is Invert, speaking to you from the Decepticon base The Victory. Come in Insecticons.”

Silence. 

“Come in Insecticons.”

The ping repeated itself again and again. SOS. SOS. SOS. 

No one was going to answer. Her frown deepened and she stepped away from the control panel. The only Decepticon here was her, the last on Earth, for all she knew. If they weren’t answering, they could be offline for all she knew. Or worse, it could be an Autobot trap, and she’d be playing right into their hands. 

But if it wasn’t, and someone was there on the other side, waiting for help, desperately trying to reach any other Decepticon on this planet…

Even if they were gross Insecticons…

Rescue would fall to her. And though she would be taking a huge risk, with no guarantee for results, with the possibility of capture or permanent offlining…

It was, finally, something to do. Something beyond just maintaining Victory. Something that was a real mission. Something that could get her honor, respect, and maybe even a friend!

Her frown gradually gave way to a grin. Her first real mission. Her first real rescue. Her first chance to make a decision on her own, with no one ordering her what side to choose. 

Oh, she was excited. It didn’t matter that her jet mode struggled to fly and that she’d need to pack away six cubes of additional Energon for the journey and her weapon–she was getting out, and she was going to rescue those Insecticons. 

“Victory, open the weapon’s vault,” she eagerly commanded, taking off down the hall. “And prepare the hangar for take-off.”

—------------------

“I think you’ve had enough, bud.”

He raised tired optics from the glass currently gripped like a lifeline in his servos, the pink Energon within rippling from how his arm shook. Upon the bartender, a shorter mech with a white and yellow paint job, did his gaze land. Whatever was in it seemed enough to cause them to flinch, but they held their ground, clearly experienced in dealing with the far more unruly. 

“Seriously. You’ve had five of those in the past Earth hour. How you’re not horrendously overfueled by now, I dunno, but you’re on your way to an early grave if you keep that up.” They gave him a hard frown, narrowing their optics behind their visor. “I’m not havin’ it on record that someone died at my bar because of my negligence.”

Luster didn’t answer them at first, letting his gaze drift back down to the Energon swirling in the glass he held. How it hadn’t cracked yet spoke to its quality, or perhaps how weak he’d become. Either worked. 

The glass was half-drained. It hadn’t tasted like anything in particular. He never ordered for the flavor, since anything they could provide him would be irrelevant. His glossa didn’t taste like it once must have, even if the memories of what had been felt like they existed just beyond a fog barrier. And besides, no matter how much he drank, his tank never felt full. 

Not anymore. 

He pulled up a report on his tank capacity in his hub–93% capacity. Ignoring the bartender, he brought the glass to his derma and promptly chugged, feeling his frame protest against more. Another tank report came in–100%. If he consumed anymore, he’d have to purge. 

There was still a drop at the bottom. He forced it down despite the warnings and slid the glass forward, looking just past the bartender, never at them. 

“One for the road,” he rasped, venting harshly. “Please.”

“Absolutely not. If you’re not at capacity by this point your sensor’s faulty.” They took the glass with what almost seemed like disgust. “Aren’t you supposed to be here with your guardian, anyways? Where is he?”

Guardian. He coughed at the word, not because he wanted to, but because it reminded him of what his life had become. The motion jarred the Energon inside of him and he felt sick. Swallowing down the urge to purge, Luster moved to shaky pedes, gripping the bar for support. 

“I don’t need him,” he grumbled. “I’m not a Sparkling. I’m not a protoform. I’m…I was someone, before, I don’t need a guardian.” 

The bartender grimaced. “Luster…look, buddy. I didn’t know you before the war. I can’t say I’ve ever heard of your work. I know Magnus says you did somethin’ important before the retreat from Cybertron. But all that’s in the past now, aight? This is Earth, not Cybertron, and we all know whatever it is you were lookin’ for, you…”

They paused as his cold optics finally focused on them, reconsidering their words. 

“...We all know you had some tragedy while you were out there. Real sad. No one here wouldn’t feel bad for you. But you can’t keep drinkin’ yourself to death over it. And I know you’re a grown ‘bot, but considerin’ the memory problems and all…well…course we all think you could use a guardian.”

A low rumble escaped from somewhere deep within him. Tank capacity at 99%. He needed more Energon. 

“One more for the road,” he asked again. “Please. I’ll pay you double for it.” 

Their frown tightened. “I’m calling Uptick.”

“No.” It came out harsher and faster than he intended, sounding like the warning growl of a tiger. His optics widened and he closed them, the gentle lighting of the bar suddenly too much. “Please. No. Don’t call him.”

They had their hand to their helm as they grimaced at him. Luster growled and turned away, almost falling over as he did. His balance equilibrator was off courtesy of overfueling, and focusing on what was normally a clear beeline for the door was difficult. One pede in front of the other. One pede in front of the other. 

“Luster! You’re not goin’ out alone?” The bartender called after him. He ignored them, turning down his audials to focus on walking. 

Spilling out of the bar, he stumbled for the nearest wall and rested a hand against it, leaning on it for dear life. His head was spinning. Standing was becoming increasingly difficult. 

Tank capacity at 98%. 

It wouldn’t stay there long. He needed to be back in his habsuit before that happened. Which way to his habsuit? He focused on his internal map, pulling it up in his hub and searching the coordinates. A small box lit up on Metroplex’s form, his tracking systems illustrating a path for him to take milliseconds later. 

It was late. Autobots didn’t sleep, not really, but it was likely that, due to the time of the planet, he wouldn’t run into anyone. Luster vented again, feeling warm Energon slip out from between his lips as he did so, and began the journey back to the place he was temporarily calling ‘home’. 

The path his systems had picked took him through some of Metroplex’s tighter corridors. On Cybertron, back before he had launched on the fateful mission that took his memory from him, he would have once felt nervous. Now he felt nothing, nothing besides urgency, urgency that did not originate from fear of being attacked or robbed. 

No, it was urgency that sprouted from the deepest recesses of himself, telling him to hide for his self-preservation, for if he did not, the symptoms would soon manifest, and in his present state, he didn’t know if he could take them. 

He made it about halfway before his proximity sensor went off. With his audials turned so low, he realized he hadn’t picked up the voice of whoever was calling to him, and they’d approached, their presence now close enough to seemingly reach out and touch him. 

He turned his helm, uncaring, for whoever it was could not be worse than–

Him. 

Uptick was following within grabbing distance of him, his dermas moving as he ranted on about something Luster was glad he couldn’t hear. He paused in his movement and Uptick did the same, though he didn’t once stop talking. Of course he didn’t.

Slowly, Luster turned his audials back on, just enough to make out the slew of Uptick’s commentary like the gentle, cooing sound of a cyber pigeon. 

“--and furthermore you are in direct violation of your curfew, which states you aren’t to be out beyond the Earth hour of 21:00; it is presently 01:20 and here you are wandering the passages of Metroplex like a lost turbofox!” He put both hands on his hips, glaring Luster down. “This is your second warning. You know what happens if I have to issue a third.”

He shuttered his optics and stared blankly just beyond Uptick. “You lock me up in the clinic until I’m completely fixed or I don’t function anymore?” 

“What?” He sounded incredulous. “No! I’m not here to–do you consider this some kind of torture? Luster, I’m trying to help you!” 

“Then can you leave me alone?” He grumbled, turning away and continuing on his predetermined path. “I’ll be fine…I just need to go back…”

Back to where? The habsuit? The ship? The planet of fog in his memories? Back, back. Always back. 

“You need to stop drinking,” Uptick scolded, grabbing his shoulder and bringing him to a halt. “And stop these late night wanderings. Everyone’s concerned for you because of them.”

He let his shoulders slump. 

“That’s a lie and you know it. The only ones who still care about me are the medics who want to poke my processor. Now can I please go back home?”

The buzz was starting to fade. He didn’t get that nice warmth from Energon overfueling for long anymore. Balance was restoring. And worst of all, the reports were coming in. 

Tank capacity at 95%. Fuel proficiency at 20%. Uptake at %$^&&*^# levels. Seek alternate methods of refueling. 

Uptick let out a long sigh. “Let me walk you back. There’s no point in you getting lost and scaring others again.”

He didn’t fight the offer. There was no point in it. Once Uptick was convinced of doing something, he wouldn’t stop until it was done–especially if that task regarded protecting someone else. 

So he trudged along, the ‘bot slated as his “guardian” trailing just behind him. “Guardian”. “Caretaker” was more like it. Uptick followed him everywhere, kept an eye on how much Energon he was consuming, tracked his recharge cycles, kept a close eye on just what activities he engaged with on a daily basis, and probably had a tracker installed beneath his aft to keep him from ever having an ounce of privacy. 

Of course he did, though, after that night with the other ‘bots. He knew what he had been doing and why he had been doing it. He just didn’t know why he’d stopped.

The Autobots he’d frightened were significantly less green than he was. That wouldn’t keep them safe. They’d returned to their habsuit to begin a cycle of “enjoying one another’s company”. That was why he’d picked them. Two for one. It would have made the whole situation easier on them all.

Except it hadn’t been easier on anyone, especially him. They’d both become creeped out when, upon discovering him in their personal quarters, staring at their recharge slabs with optics more devoid than a moon, he’d purged his dinner and collapsed, whining like a sick turbofox. 

That was when Uptick had been assigned as his caretaker. There wasn’t anything wrong with Uptick, by any means, and he didn’t hate him. He was, like all Enforcers, large and imposing, and tended to play by the rules too much. His paint was cheerful colors of blue, green, and white, meant to match with the new planet he was eager to call home. And his personality was surprisingly forgiving–for being the sucker stuck with the mental patient, he had quite a tolerance for nonsense.

No, Luster despised Uptick’s company for an entire other reason. One that didn’t have to do with how closely he watched him, how constantly he reminded him to attend his appointments, or how constantly he changed his curfews and rules.

It had to do with his sparkbeat. With how close he insisted on staying, Luster could hear the damnable thing’s constant pulsing despite the layers of glass and metal and wires separating them. It was loud and full of vibrant life. 

He could feel the solvent building in his mouth. 

Tank capacity at 93%. 

—-------------------------------

The habsuit allotted to him was at the very end of Metroplex’s furthest row. It was close to the wall, away from any streets or alleys. The original request put in regarding a space for him had placed him near the clinic, where other Cybertronians would be passing by. His vehement rejection of the idea had only been approved after the arguing had made him purge. 

Uptick brought him right to the sliding door, inputting the code to open it on its keypad. The metal let out a quiet shff as it slid open, revealing the small space within. He turned, giving Luster a look. 

“Your visit tomorrow is at 09:20, Earth hours. I’ve already sent you the data package. You seem to have ignored the first four.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice as he raised a servo to his helm. “I’ll send you another. Be there on time, please, so I don’t have to come here and convince you, alright?”

“Convince”. Luster almost scoffed at the word. The heaviness that came with overfueling had left him by now. With its cloud gone, he found himself choking on bitterness again. 

Instead, he vented, giving a tiny nod. 

“Alright.” Stepping past Uptick, he paused in the threshold of his habsuit when a hand suddenly landed back on his shoulder. 

“Luster. You know these visits are for your health, right? No one here wants to hurt you. We don’t see you as a processor to be poked.” 

“I know.” He didn’t turn around. The lights in his habsuit, motion activated, had turned on, illuminating the sparse few belongings within it. 

“I mean it.” His grip tightened ever so slightly, then released. “We want to help you. All of us.” 

“I know,” he repeated. “Now please leave me alone.” 

Uptick said nothing as the door slid closed, sealing him, and the outside world, away. Luster stepped fully into his habsuit and paused, gaze fixed on the berth. 

It was a recharge slab, standard issue. They’d tried to pull a better one for him due to his circumstances–the medic’s had posited that he may have recharging terrors. They’d been right, of course, but he knew it wasn’t the fault of the slab, so he’d let it lie. They didn’t need to know about the terrors that plagued him, for they were meaningless, and besides, if they knew, they’d want to keep a closer eye on him. 

Who cared about terrors that only consisted of strange humming noises, anyways?

Besides, a closer eye was the exact opposite of what he needed on him. If they watched him more closely, they’d take him away from the bar. They’d take him away from his quiet habsuit. They’d take him away from his place at the edge of their world and draw him right into the middle. 

And if they did that, he had no idea how long he could ensure their safety. 

He stepped over to the slab, observing his reflection in it. They’d taken away the mirror after he’d shown distress staring into it. Something about his frame just didn’t feel right, and the more he looked at it, the more out of place he felt. 

His paint was blue, a gaudy blue, one with a sheen to it that made him literally shine. One of the medics had stated his color was particularly reminiscent of a bird known as the “peacock” on earth. He’d never met the thing, but from the way they’d snickered, he assumed it was excessive. 

On his chassis were diamonds, which, according to the doctors, had been placed there, willingly, by him. He couldn’t imagine why he would have ever reasoned to do such a thing. The stones weakened the integrity of his armor, and furthermore, they drew attention. Cut into varying shapes, they were arranged into delicate patterns that continued on his faceplate, where several more had been embedded just below his optics. Had been. When they found him, all that were left were the indentations of what had been. They now felt like ugly scars. 

The gemstones were gaudy enough, but worse, in his opinion, were his drills. Their blades rested comfortably on his arms, with the largest sitting on his back as a heavy extension. His treads were on his legs, which, combined with the weight of the drill, made even lifting the damnable things a chore. According to the medics he hadn’t even been a miner back in the day, but a scientist of sorts, so why he was so equipped for drilling, he couldn’t even say. 

All of this shaped up to make his frame bulky and uncomfortable. His steps were heavy. His pieces tended to bump into things. And his excessive decorations drew gazes and snickers alike from other mechs. 

He hated the face that looked back at him. The optics were green, a gaudy green, because apparently, he’d once been obsessed with fashion, and made himself a different pair of colored optics for every day of the week. The others were lost, but the green he’d been wearing when he disappeared weren’t. 

His faceplate was a pale gray, like most mechs tended to be. Pale, with those intricate, delicate etchings, designed to make him look ‘beautiful’. His helm had a sharp point in the middle, reaching about halfway down, and of course, in the middle of it was another gemstone. This one, however, was cracked. 

A cracked gemstone accompanied by diamond shaped holes that had once held something supposedly precious. That was all he saw when he looked at himself. 

He tore his optics away from the visage and sat on the berth, keeping his pedes on the floor as he turned to look at his habsuit. It had a desk, a window, a few datapads, and a small storage shelf. That was all. 

They’d offered to bring him some of his surviving “collection”, whatever that meant. He’d declined.

The ceiling lights dimmed as he tried to lay down on his back, found it impossible, and instead did so on his side. He’d never get used to the damnable drill on his back, he just knew it. It wasn’t supposed to be there. It hadn’t been there before. Why did he have a drill on his back? He couldn’t ever remember a time where he did. 

But that was the problem with remembering. He couldn’t remember much of anything. 

It had been only three Earth “months” (solar cycles?) ago that he had landed on the planet, in an unmarked spaceship that had been dated back to the middle of the war. The bots who had discovered him found his frame locked in a stasis pod, almost offline from how little power he’d had left. Taking him back to Autobot city, an emergency transfer of Energon and a strong shock to his processor had brought him back online. 

And that was when the trouble had begun. He’d awoken in a room he didn’t recognize, in a time he didn’t know, in a place he’d never been before. He still remembered coming online. For so long it had been just darkness, darkness and the very hum of the universe, the electrical pulses that dictated the existence of life, making up the entirety of his world. When he’d come online, that hum had ebbed, becoming less than background noise. 

It had felt like being cut off from a lifeline. His optics had onlined, and he had been greeted with the sight of one of the Autobot medics, First Aid. There was celebration to be had as he had groaned and tried to sit up, confused, delirious, and wondering just how he’d gotten to this strange place. They’d insisted he stay down until his energon reserves were replenished. 

But even when his tank hit its safe capacity, a feeling that should have left him satiated and energized, he hadn’t had the strength to properly move. He’d known in that very instant, as the question arose as to why, that something was wrong with him. 

Another electrical shock had returned the ability to properly move to him. They released him from the medical bay after he’d demonstrated he could walk–right into the hands of their Enforcers. For according to their records, he was not to be alone, and the question of just what had happened on his mission was hanging heavier than a spaceship in orbit. 

The issue of his memory had arisen almost immediately. They’d asked him his name. They’d asked him why he had been alone. They’d asked him what had happened. 

He couldn’t remember any of it. 

“His processor seems to have been damaged, sir.” He remembered one of them saying, looking over the scan that had been provided from the medical bay. “They’ve found evidence that a code was written to delete some memories, but even more than that…” The datapad had been handed over, and the interrogator sucked in air through his denta. “How is he even still functional, with scrambling that bad?”

It looked like his processor had been ripped out, smashed, and placed back into his helm. He had no recollection of any of it. 

“Do you remember why you left?”

“Do you remember the name of your ship?”

“Do you remember the research you’d been engaging with when you’d decided to leave?”

“Do you remember what you found?”

“Do you remember Solace?”

“Do you remember what happened to him?”

“What happened to Solace?”

Who’s Solace?

The interview had ended shortly after. 

He vented, watching the lights in the ceiling turn down. Uptick’s data package pushed at the edge of his internal hub. He accepted it because he had no other choice. 

Solace. The name haunted him like a specter. Solace. Who was Solace? Solace had been someone he’d been very close with, apparently. Solace had been someone so important to him that he’d left Cybertron with him, in search of something mysterious to help the Autobot war effort. They’d been joined at the hip all their lives, apparently, 

And he couldn’t remember a single thing about the mech. But why?

He shuttered his optics and tried to think back to the day he’d left Cybertron. It had been sometime in the middle of the war, apparently. He’d made some big decision and gotten a ship somehow. He was going to prove something, or save them all, or change the tide of the war. Something heroic, or whatever. They’d said he had once been outgoing. 

He tried to picture himself standing on Cybertron (did he even remember Cybertron?), chassis puffed out, engine revving, the diamonds on his faceplate and chest glittering. A huge smile was on his face. He stood before the ship he’d arrived on, except instead of its decrepit state, it was a fully functioning spaceship, fresh off the factory line, without a single chip on the paint. 

Before him was a crowd of Autobots. They were cheering his name. Optimus Prime himself was there to see him off. 

He looks them over and grins widely, holding his arms out. Yes, he was going to save them all. He was going to travel far away, find something, and help end the war. He would be so full of hope, nothing could dampen his spirits. 

And there, beside him, would be Solace. Solace, his best friend, his one in a billion, his greatest ally. 

But when he looks beside him, there is no Solace. 

There was only fog, and blank space, and when he looked back, the planet of Cybertron was empty, a barren wasteland of gray. The sky was dark velvet blue. Stars glittered like diamonds overhead. 

There were stars in his chassis. He blinked once, twice. The planet was empty, and he was full of stars, and he was alone. 

And here, alone, in the emptiness of space, he floated, watching all of existence fall away and turn into the hum of electromagnetic pulses indicating life. Life that he could not see or touch. Life he could only listen to as he lay dreaming, drifting through the universe alone. 

In his cradle of stars, dead $^%#%&*^&8 waits dreaming. 

Not alone, really. He had not been alone while he was dreaming. He had heard something else in the hum.

He replayed the sound again, the hum he was so familiar with. It was millions of years worth of noise, stored within his processor because he had nothing else to comprehend for all of it. 217 gigabytes of nothing but humming. His processor ran through all of it in mere minutes, then ran through it again. 

There was something beneath all of the noise, something explicitly subtle. He opened his internal hub and pulled up a spectrograph. The noise was replayed again. 

The waves showed up as nothing in particular for a long time. Then, slowly, they began to form a curve. One by one, each contributed a single line, through millions of years, until finally, he reached himself now, still intuned, just barely, to the electromagnetic pulses of life. 

The image looking back at him was in the shape of a crescent. It was the very shape which he saw in his charge terrors, the one which, ever present, hung in the background, watching him like a cybercat would a mouse. 

His spark felt cold. He closed the spectrograph and opened his optics, staring at the gentle light of Earth’s moon shining in through the window. His internal clock beeped a warning to him–five hours until he was designated to be at the clinic. A pop-up recommending he enter recharge appeared. He moved to close it.

Tank capacity at 68%. Fuel uptake at &%#$^*(&%$$%&&%$%^^^&* Seek alternate fuel source. Seek alternate fuel source. Seek alternate fuel source. 

Dozens more appeared at the death of the one. He pushed the notifications away. 

Seek alternate fuel source.

They came back, one after the other. His frame felt like it had been starved of Energon for years. 

Seek alternate fuel source. 

He forced his optics to shutter, letting the notifications drown out the fear he felt. 

Seek alternate fuel source.

It was going to be a long recharge.

[pomefioredove]

hello dovee! I saw the "I'd look good on you." and immediately thought of vil! if I could please request for that? THANK YOU SO MUCH🍰stay creative!

thank you everyone for feeding me vil requests. I got a little crazy with this one

summary: "I'd look good on you." type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive a part of this event

"No, no, no, no. Wrong, dreadful,"

You dodge another designer handbag as it goes flying across Vil's room, joining the growing pile of clothes behind you.

"Why is this so difficult?" he groans, storming out of his closet. "I have not a SINGLE decent thing to wear for this interview."

You look over your shoulder, watching him as he begrudgingly begins to clean up the mess he'd made.

"I think you're stressed,"

Vil pauses midway through sliding a silken shirt back on its hanger to glare at you.

"Another excellent observation," he says dryly. Then, a sigh.

"Sorry. I've been wanting to work with this director for years... I don't care for this role, but if the film does well, he'll likely want to work with me again... How's this?"

He holds up a glittery purple dress in front of him. You blink.

"...Good,"

"Ugh," he scoffs, tossing it aside. You don't know how many more times you can tell him he looks good in everything before he kicks you out.

"What is the role, anyway?"

Vil rolls his eyes, catching onto your attempt to distract him. He indulges, anyway.

"Another villain, although this film is more of a..." he pauses, gesturing vaguely. You stare. "...A young adult movie."

"So it's bait for teenage girls?"

"...Essentially,"

He sighs again, cleaning up the last of his temper tantrum and sorting it in his massive closet.

"Thus my role is more... provocative, we'll say. Which is fine, if not for the fact that I feel I did horribly,"

"I'm sure you didn't,"

"I'll be a laughing stock, this director will never work with me again, and I'll become one of those pathetic, washed up former child stars by age twenty-one,"

That feels... a tad overdramatic, but you don't mention it.

"That's not going to happen," you insist. "I'm sure you make a great... provocative... villain!"

Vil sighs, returning to the bedside to sit with you. For a brief moment, you can feel him staring, but you say nothing of it.

"You haven't even seen it," he mumbles, finally looking away. "I only have half an hour... I feel completely unassured."

You can't help but feel pity. Before knowing Vil, you had stupidly assumed that most celebrities are confident by nature, exuding grace and certainty.

Now...

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Vil quiets, seeming to consider the offer. "...May I use a line on you?"

You're not exactly sure what he means by that, but it can't be anything too painful. He only has half an hour, after all.

You nod.

Vil smiles, then turns away. He takes a deep breath... you've seen this before. He's getting into character.

It's very effective.

When he turns back, his expression is completely different. And his body language. Even his very presence has shifted.

You've seen this before, you remind yourself. The dangerous, menacing facade that he's known for, that makes his roles so iconic...

But he's also smiling, his eyes lowered, a pleasantly amused look about him.

His hand finds its way to the bed on your other side, effectively caging you between his arms. And then he moves in, guiding you down onto the mattress and leaning over your body.

This is your friend. You're just helping him. There's nothing to be nervous about.

Despite what you tell yourself, you can feel the effect he's having on you.

He can tell, too.

Vil tuts, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Scared?" he asks. His voice is gentle, though there's a lingering danger behind it.

"Poor thing... I won't bite,"

He leans closer, his other hand intertwining with yours and keeping it pinned to the mattress, hot breath pressing against your ear.

"I'd look good on you," he whispers.

You know you shouldn't interrupt him, but you can't stop the nervous, flustered whine that comes out of your throat.

Vil breaks character, beaming, and gets off of you.

"Oh, my..." he grins, studying your expression. "You were right. I was worried over nothing."

He stands, smoothing out his clothes, and strides towards the closet to change, leaving you flustered senseless on the bed until he returns.

"How do I look?" he asks.

Of course, perfect. He always looks perfect. And now that he's confident again, gorgeous.

He smirks. "I'll take your silence as a compliment, potato. Thank you for the boost... I'll be back to pick up where we left off in a few hours,"

[beesspacedotorg]

Honeysuckle, Honey Boy, Honey Sweet

Summary: You take care of your Beta during his rut, and he's sweet as can be.

Warning: OMEGAVERSE !!!1!!1! sex. gender neutral reader. nothing too crazy for this one. hyune is sweet and subby because this is my house I make the rules. you don't have to read Dibs or Third Leg to understand what's going on, but it would make me happy. special thanks to ems for reading this and letting me know if it was bars. and for letting me steal the honey boy nickname

notes: hello adoring public. this is the third part of the dibsverse. this is what happens when you're insane. I had intended to post this in March and then forgot. Oopsie. I hope you enjoy it and have fun reading it the way I had fun imagining Hwang Hyunjin sweaty and naked.

You love your Hyunjin, your honey boy. That’s how you refer to him in your head, as yours. In all reality, you share him with the pack, but he holds a special place in your heart. He found you first, he kissed you first, he was your first in this pack for many things. You two are laying together, curled up on his bed watching some Business Proposal for what feels like the hundredth time.

“He looks a little like Seungmin,” is what you say and he rolls his eyes.

“You say that every time.”

“It’s not my fault. He does. Also, the glasses thing is hot.” Hyunjin huffs at you.

“I wear glasses.” He sounds like he’s pouting. You turn your head to the side and see that he is.

“Are you … Hwang Hyunjin, are you jealous? Of Cha Sunghoon?” You pause the show. Hyunjin presses his palms into his eyes and sighs.

“No. Well. Maybe.” You frown at him, it’s not like him to be jealous. He’s so full of love for everyone and everything, and you know that the pack would bend over backwards to make sure he feels cared for so this has to be something specific.

“Hyunnie. What’s wrong?”

“I think my cycle is going to start soon.” You hum at him.

“What’s it feel like?” Hyunjin is a Beta, so while his cycles may be mild, he’s subjected to either heats or ruts depending on who he’s around. Your pack has a considerable amount of Omegas, and you know that Changbin’s cycle throws him all over the place depending on who he spends more time around during that period, but you aren’t sure how Hyunjin’s works. The two of you have been together for a while, but his cycle is slower than most, so he hasn’t yet had anything.

“A rut, I think.” You hum again.

“Is that why you’re needlessly jealous over me thinking a fictional character is hot?”

“I’m not jealous-”

“You most certainly are.”

“Fine, I’m not jealous of Cha Sunghoon.”

“Better. Who are you jealous of then, baby?” He hides his face in a pillow and says something that you don’t hear.

“What?” You raise your voice a little, poking his side until he answers you.

“I’m jealous of Seungmin.” That makes you still.

“Seungminnie? What- why?” Hyunjin crosses his arms.

“You keep talking about how hot he is!”

“Well, what do you want me to do, be blind?”

“No, I just-” Hyunjin flops himself over in bed so he’s not facing you anymore, and you can tell from the way his sweet honeysuckle turns into rot that he’s not happy. You lay down beside him and wrap your arms around his back.

“Honey boy. What is it you want me to do?”

“Will you spend it with me?”

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry.” You kiss the back of his neck, his long hair tickling your nose. “Anything for you, baby.”

-

Felix drapes himself along your back while you’re in the kitchen.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Yongbokkie. What’s up?”

“Hyunjinnie smells like he’s close.”

“Does he?” Your tone is tinged with sarcasm. Hyunjin hasn’t let you out of his sight for very long since you agreed, getting more and more possessive as it gets closer to the start of his cycle. You don’t mind, but you’re also more aware than anyone else how close he is, all things considered. Felix bites you in retaliation for your snark.

“Mean.”

“Captain obvious.”

“What are you doing in here? All by your lonesome.” Felix’s hands start wandering and you laugh a little at him.

“I was going to see if we had enough food, but it seems our Luna took care of that already. So, I’m making a snack instead.” Felix starts to slide his hands under your shirt, mouthing at your neck.

“That’s crazy. I could be your snack instead.” You burst into laughter, shaking him off a little.

“That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, and Changbin took me on a date last week.” You hear a half-hearted yell from the living room that makes you snort.

“So… is that a no?” Felix’s hands are resting on your hips, and you feed him a bit of your snack when he hooks his chin over your shoulder.

“That is a no.” Felix huffs, letting go of you to throw a fake fit behind you.

Felix pretends to throw things around the kitchen, ranting about spoiled Omegas and how they don’t know how to please their Alphas anymore. Something you find extremely ironic, because Felix is an Omega. You’re in the middle of laughing at him when Hyunjin comes in, hair wet from his shower. He gives you a backhug, water droplets falling on you.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Hyunnie. How was your shower?”

“Would’ve been better if you were in it.” You hear Felix gag. Hyunjin flips him off.

“That’s what she said.” You can’t help yourself, giggling at your own joke. Hyunjin takes Felix’s place in your neck.

“Lee Felix Yongbok.” You hear Felix snicker.

“Yeah?” He’s wormed his way between you and the counter to stare Hyunjin in the eye. He’s also in the way of your snack.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.” Felix smiles, sweet and deceiving, before he wraps his arms around your waist and gets nose-to-nose with Hyunjin.

“I’m telling Channie hyung.” Felix shrugs. Hyunjin’s scent changes so something a little tangier and you can picture him squinting his eyes. “I’m telling Minho.” Felix pulls away almost immediately.

“Hyunjinnie, you’re so mean to me.”

“You’re riling me up on purpose!” Lavender hits your nose before Hyunjin is done speaking.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble. Felix is still in the way of your snack.

“Yongbokkie,” you know that coo. Felix is fucked.

“Hi, hyung.”

“Are you teasing our Hyunjinnie?”

“I would never.”

“Liar,” Felix has finally moved away from your food. You shove some of it in your mouth when you snitch on him.

“Hey!” He says that, but he’s following where Minho is dragging him with little to no resistance.

“Send me pictures, please.”

“Perv.”

“Sky is blue, grass is green.” Hyunjin grumbles some more as the resident cats of the house leave the kitchen. You feed him.

“Do you want to go to my room, dove?” His voice is quiet, sleepy.

“Yeah. Let’s lay down, hmm?”

-

You like Hyunjin’s room. The walls are painted a calming shade of periwinkle and they’re decorated with pictures of the pack and paintings he made. His desk is covered in half finished sketchbooks and paints. If you look at his easel, there’s a half drawn portrait of you with a picture you don’t remember him taking attached to it.

He’s also in there, which is nice.

He’s woken you up from a nap, hips rutting against your ass and sweat dripping onto your skin.

“Hyune?” Your voice is crackly and groggy with sleep, you think you might have sweat through your shirt, and there’s a pillow crease on your cheek.

“Baby,” he lets out a whine and something in you cracks a little.

“Hey, hmm? What’s wrong?” You turn around to cup his cheeks, and he leans his head into them. You know what’s wrong, so the question is a little redundant, but you ask anyway. Not that it matters, because instead of answering he hikes your leg over his hip and grinds against you in a way that’s dirty and draws noises out of you that you know you’re going to get shit for later.

“Hyunjin, sweetheart, let’s get these off, yeah?” You move to pull away and his grip tightens on you in a way that’s almost painful, an arm coming up under your body to wrap around your waist. He lets out a short growl, and then his eyes widen at himself.

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine. We can stay like this.” His hips pick back up, and you know without a doubt that these sleep shorts and underwear are going straight in the trash when you’re done. Well, maybe not straight. Han Jisung and Lee Felix are freaks.

You let him rut against you messily, kissing his face and his mouth when you can. He’s stronger than he looks, and you aren’t doing anything to fight back, so his motions are rocking you up the bed.

He lets out another whine when he comes, face red and sweaty and the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s finally still, and you can feel every place where your body fluids are cooling down and it’s largely unpleasant. Hyunjin seems to agree because he starts shoving at the clothes he’s wearing angrily. You grab his hands.

“Hey, hey, Hyunjinnie. Let me help, yeah? Let me help and then you can finally fuck me. Isn’t that what you want?” You get to watch his pupils dilate in real time, plush lips falling open as his jaw drops. He’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You want to eat him alive. You take off his clothes and yours, dropping the soiled clothes somewhere on the floor because Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care what happens to them right now.

You and him have fucked, to be sure. After everything with Minho, there isn’t a moment where you aren’t being propositioned by someone in the pack. You’ve never seen him like this though, flushed and sweaty, out of it with rut. For a second, you’re worried he might have rut fever, but he can still understand you when you talk to him, and he still kisses back when you press your lips to him, so he’s fine.

“Dove,” his voice is scratchy with disuse and something else.

“Hmm?”

“Want in, please, let me. Lemme,” his hands are pawing at your hips desperately. You lace your fingers through his hair and pull his head back, kissing his neck.

“Calm down. I’ve gotta get ready first. You don’t wanna hurt me, do you?” He shakes his head as best he can through the grip you have on his hair. “That’s what I thought. My honey boy doesn’t wanna hurt his precious Omega, right?” You shift so you’re straddling him, seating yourself right above his cock. You know he can feel where you’re leaking and wet for him. You know what you’re doing is mean, but he already came once, you can have some fun.

“Hyunjinnie,” you let go of his hair to rest your hands on his chest, sliding yourself along his cock. “You feel so nice like this, maybe I won’t even let you inside.” He pouts, eyes furrowing in that cute way of his, bottom lip jutting out and you kiss it.

“I’m kidding.”

“Better be.”

You get yourself off like that, sliding along his cock, letting the tip graze your hole for just a second, just to tease. Hyunjin comes too, a second time, adding to the slick mess on his stomach. He’s whining now, hands grabbing everywhere he can reach, your chest, your ass, your neck, but he hasn’t made any move to force you despite his rut. He’s dirty, your boy.

You know that you wouldn’t be getting away with this if it wasn’t Hyunjin. You know that if you were with any of the Alpha’s during their ruts or Changbinnie or the Omega’s you would’ve been pinned to the bed and stuffed full by now. The knowledge gives you a bit of a head rush. That Hyunjinnie wants you to make him beg a little for what he wants, that he trusts you to take care of him when he’s too out of it to take care of himself. You lean forward and kiss him, all tongue and teeth and filthy.

“Dove, please.” He says this against your mouth, one hand coming up to the back of your head, the other gripping your wrist where it still sits on his chest. You can feel how his grip tightens and loosens periodically, and you appreciate the effort he’s making to not hurt you.

You lean back and this time, this time, you let him sink into you, sliding down down down until you’re at the hilt, sitting prettily on his hips. The noise he lets out is music to your ears, but it’s loud. You hum, rocking against him while he squirms under you.

“Hyunjinnie, baby.”

“Mm?” He peeks his eyes open, god, he’s a vision. Pretty brown eyes blown wide, mouth kiss bruised and open just enough that his pretty tongue is peeking out just a little. His hair is sweat slick just like the rest of him and it’s plastered to his face in some areas.

“Open your mouth for me, honey.” He does, a little confused, but sweet like always. You shove two of your fingers in his mouth and watch as his eyes roll back in his head and his hips buck up into you.

He’s groaning as he sucks on your fingers, treating them the way he would a cock, and you throb at the visual. He’s wrapped his own long fingers around your wrist, moving your hand in and out of his mouth himself. You use a little force to make him gag on them, just because, and the moan he grants you with has you feeling dizzy.

“Honey boy,” You keep your fingers in his mouth as you return your focus to riding him. “Such a pretty boy. Pretty cock too, yeah?” You hook your fingers behind his teeth and yank his jaw open. He has such a pretty mouth. Maybe after his ruts over you’ll play with it. Run the pads of your fingers over his teeth and along his tongue. Push your fingers back until he gags on them, hold them there for good measure. Watch as his drool runs down his face and off your wrist before teasing him for making such a mess.

“Should I get one of the Alpha’s in here? Hmm? Let you choke on their cocks while I ride you silly? Or maybe I should bring in Changbinnie? He stretches your jaw out so nice, doesn’t he?” You feel Hyunjin’s dick kick inside you, but he shakes his head anyway.

“No, you don’t want that?” He grabs your wrist to pull your fingers free and you oblige.

“No, want,” he sucks in a shaky breath when you wipe his spit on his cheek, “just want you.”

If he wasn’t high off brain chemicals, you’d accuse him of flirting with you. You know that he’s not running game, just being honest and sweet, but something in your chest flutters and seizes, causing you to stop your movements.

“Hyunjin,” you didn’t think you’d cry this time. Absolutely certain that you could avoid it if you were taking the lead. He lets out a whine like he’s been hurt and reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“Dove?” He sounds panicked, and you kiss him to shut him up. You know he’s been thrown for a loop by your tears, worried he’s hurt you or underperforming in some way, not with it enough to know that you’re crying because you’re in love with him.

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you, Jinnie?” You sniff slightly and pat his shoulder. “I’m getting tired, why don’t you finish the job, hmm?” He goes to turn you over and you pinch his arm. “Like this. I like the way you look under me.” You smile salaciously at him and he ducks his head a little, suddenly shy. You stay where you are, nose-to-nose with him so you can kiss him when you please and lift your knees a little so he has room to play, and he takes it.

He’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but that doesn’t stop him from shifting around until he’s found an angle that has you moaning almost as loud as he is. It makes him smirk, all self satisfied and cocky, before you yank his hair a little and he loses it.

“‘S good.” He’s cute like this, moaning and whining about how hot and wet you are around him.

“Yeah? Just a little more and you’ll make me come too.” He groans. “You want that? Want me to come on your cock?” He nods fervently and his thrusts get faster. You lean down so your lips are pressed against his ear and you can feel his sweat slicked chest gliding against yours.

“Or, maybe you want me to come on your knot. C’mon, honey boy. Let me have it. Your Omega wants it so bad.”

He growls this time, yanking you down by the hips while he fucks up into you, forcing his knot inside your heat. He’s a Beta, so admittedly his knot isn’t as big as an Alpha’s is, but you moan and come on it just like you said you would.

“More.” He reaches his hand between the two of you and places it where you’re sensitive and swollen.

“Hyunnie, what?”

“One more. One more, c’mon.” His spare hand comes up to rest inbetween to shoulder blades, forcing your chest down against him. Between that and his knot you’re stuck

“You motherfucker-”

“Please,” his voice is deep and low and right in your ear. He lets out a groan when the way he’s touching you has him clenching on his knot.

“Hwang Hyunjin-” Your threat is too breathy to have any bite.

“You said you’d do it, you have to.” It doesn’t seem to dawn on him that you came when he did, or if it did he doesn’t care because he keeps up the stimulation until you fall apart on top of him again, walls fluttering along his cock, teeth biting just shy of his scent gland.

When you come back to yourself, he’s pressing kisses on your shoulder.

“You’re a shithead.” You tell him this softly, while running your fingers along the side of his face. He grumbles in response.

“You bit me.”

“Deserved.”

You stop scolding him to kiss him again. It’s not your fault his mouth is so kissable.

“You feel better, honey boy?”

“I feel tired.”

“Good.” He rolls the two of you over until you’re on your side, eyes closing. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth.” He squints at you.

“Why?”

“I wanna see it.”

“You’re a freak.” He drops his jaw anyway.

-

(Halfway through your in depth exploration of his molars your phone buzzes. It’s Minho, with pictures of Felix fucked out and crying.

“Who?” Your fingers are still in Hyunjin’s mouth so it comes out muffled. You show him your phone as you take them out.

“Lixie got his just desserts.”

“You can be my dessert.”

“Corny.” You let him roll you onto your back anyway.)

[huhniebowl]

hi!!!! could you possibly do something where the reader and dom are on a podcast together?? i think that would be super fun☺️☺️

anon, this is probably the funniest request i've ever worked on oh my god.😭 i had so much fun writing this! thank you for sending it in!

this is heavily inspired by the drake podcast with bobbi. i also read a few of dom's interviews, so a good bit of the dialogue is based on some things he's actually said.

this is dialogue heavy just so you all know! hope you love it!

¥

You move the mic stand that your crew set up, so it’s level with your face, and adjust yourself under the blankets of your guest star's bed. 

“Okay, tell me when,” Dominic says. He’s holding the clapperboard, and watching your crew for his signal. 

“Marking.” He says into the mic, then snaps the take. He grins, while one of the crew members come to take the clapperboard. “Ah, bet you didn’t think I knew about that huh?” 

It’s episode seven of your podcast, and you somehow managed to get Dominic Fike as your guest. You’ve been a fan of his for years, and have followed him through his ups and downs of fame, fortune, and misfortune.

You’re a little shocked at how well you’re keeping your composure by being able to have your favorite artist featured on your show, but you're thankful for it. 

“Hello everyone, welcome to episode seven of I’m Not in Your Bed, and today I’m here with.” 

You look over at Dominic, and he leans into his mic.

“Dominic Fike. How are you guys today.”

“Are you talking to me or the viewers?” 

“The viewers.” 

“This isn’t live though, so you won’t get to know their responses.” You turn on your side so you're facing Dom, and move your mic in front of you. 

“Well yeah, but, isn’t that like proper podcast etiquette or some shit.” He starts to trail off towards the end and he looks at the staff. You hear a few of them chuckle, and you almost do too, but you can’t break character. 

“Who taught you that?” 

“Well, I just sort of.” He pauses for a moment, “Fuck you.” There’s no bite to it, and the staff laughs out. 

"You think Drake is watching this?" He asks, fixing the glasses on his face.

"Maybe, he was my episode four."

"Were you in his bed too?"

"Yeah, I was."

"Fuckin’ cheater dude." That earns him a few laughs behind the camera.

“How does it feel having a stranger in your bed?” You ask. Dominic tilts his head in thought. 

“Well, it’s not too weird. I used to have random women in here all the time.” 

He then grabs hold of the mic and stares dead into the camera. “Not anymore though. Completely abstinent. Not fucking. Stop having sex. I’m talking to you. The one watching me say this while probably planning on having sex later.” You stare at him and press your lips together, letting the silence after his proclamation linger in the air. 

“And how’s that been going for you?” 

“You know, it’s been well. I’ve stopped a lot of crazy shit recently. Stopped smoking, stopped drugs. Stopped drinking more than 4 cups of coffee a day.” 

“How do you like your coffee.” 

“Black. I hate that creamer shit.” 

“You know it’s reported that some of the most known serial killers drank their coffee black and were Capricorns?” Dom’s eyebrows raise. 

“Oh fuck, really?” 

“No, I made it up. But you feel a little crazy now don’t you?” Dominic drops his head and starts laughing, the staff right along with him. 

“What’s your sign?” He asks once he gathers himself. 

“Cancer.” 

“Ah, that makes sense. You probably have a mommy kink or some shit huh?” You look at him in disbelief and suck your teeth when your staff betrays you with giggles. 

“I do not–” 

“Momm–.” 

“Dominic.” You warn, glaring at him. He bursts out laughing, and you can’t help the scoff you let out. 

“You know, they do say that Capricorns and Cancers are the mom and dad of the zodiac.” You try to reason.

“You’re the mom right?” He asks. You squint your eyes at him and dig around the space between you two. He’s simpering at you, trying to prove his mommy kink bit.

“I lied, I'm a Leo.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I know.” You pull out a little knitted beanie baby from the blankets. It wears the hat Dominic had on during Coachella. “A fan made this for you right?” 

“Yes, she did! Isn’t it sick?” 

“It is. How does it feel having some of the most creative fans there is out there?” 

Dominic looks between you, and the plush, then reaches his hand out for it. “You know, it's almost surreal. This fame shit kinda came out of nowhere for me, so there was a huge adjustment period I went through when it came to people supporting me and giving me things they put so much time into.” 

You nod, letting him continue.

“I think I’m still adjusting to it really, but nothing brings me more joy than like seeing this stuff you know? I love my fans, and I’d be nothing without them.” 

“It seems they love you back just as much, if not more.” Dom grins and nods, “Yeah, I’d say so. They’re so fucking creative.” 

“Have you read your fanfics?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Because I have one right here we can—” You stop mid-sentence and pull out your phone. 

“Are you serious?” He looks at the camera as if he was Jim from The Office when you ignore him, and begin typing with urgency.

“This is the most excited I’ve seen you since this started.” 

You ignore his comment and hand him your phone with a fic pulled up. 

“Read this.”

“Yo, do you read these yourself? You found this way too fast.”

“I found this one last night. Now read.” 

It’s a Tumblr story you saved for this very moment, and you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

“Smut? What’s smut?” He looks at you for an answer, but you just gesture your hands toward the phone for him to keep reading. 

It’s silent for a few, and you signal your cameraman to zoom in on Dominic’s face. 

You watch as his face morphs into confusion, then surprise, then what you assume is mild interest, before he’s pulling the phone back and his eyes are blown wide. 

“Holy fucking shit y’all write porn about me?” The crew erupts into laughter, and you tuck your lips in to avoid laughing too. 

“Smut.” You say. 

Dominic glances from you, back to the phone. 

“Why am I kinda turned on by this.” 

“Because I wrote it.” 

Dominic whips his head towards you, and his mouth drops.

“Wait really?” You don’t respond, reaching down to the floor and pulling up a box of Reese’s Puffs cereal. 

“Reese’s?” You ask, dropping a handful into your mouth and holding the box out to him. 

“Where did you—” Dominic keeps the same shocked expression and turns back towards the camera. The cameraman starts to laugh again and zooms in on his face. 

“When did you—” He stops, watching you chew with mild interest to his confusion. So he presses his lips together, clicks your phone off, and folds his hands together over his lap. 

“Yeah, let me get some.” You wordlessly lean over and Dominic tilts his head back so you can shake some cereal from the box into his mouth. 

“Good?” You ask while chewing. 

“Yeah.” He nods. Silence ensues while you both continue to chew while staring at each other. Then at the same time, you turn to the camera with monotone expressions. It’s unplanned, and the crew let out chuckles once again. 

“So how was touring?” You swallow, and reach down towards the floor again, pulling up two bowls with spoons in them. Dom’s learned not to question you anymore at this point, and just accepts a bowl. 

“It was fucking fun dude. I wasn’t expecting everyone to know the words of my album for the first few dates since I toured a solid week after the release.” 

“Resse’s, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, or Lucky Charms?” 

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.” 

You pull up that box, and pour some into his bowl, then yours. “It must have felt incredible to hear them yelling it back to you. Did it?” 

“Oh man, I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get used to. A lot of my songs are me just fucking around and making stuff that people can dance to you know?” You nod, and bring up a jug of milk, filling up your bowl, then Dom’s.

“So when I’m performing, it kinda feels like me and my fans are just kicking shit up. I’m dancing, they're dancing, it feels good. It’s fun. Whatever’s bothering them can just be forgotten for a bit.” He takes a spoonful of cereal to his lips and hums around his spoon. 

“I was at one of your shows, the LA one. And what I noticed was that your energy on stage is unbelievable.” You press your cereal down into the milk with your spoon, before continuing. 

“Like, you look so youthful, and just in your element up there. You bring such an intense and loving energy to every show and I strangely found myself missing you when it was all over and I’d never even formally met you until now.” 

It’s silent for a moment, Dominic soaking up your words while you begin eating. 

“Was that your way of confessing? Are we like gonna kiss now?” 

You roll your eyes and your crew giggles. 

“No, but seriously, thank you. That means the world, especially when like I said before I’m still adjusting to this shit.” 

“Well for what it’s worth, I think you’re navigating through all this perfectly. It’s why I became a fan in the first place. Your talent is unique to you and only you. And I mean it when I say talent like that only comes once in a lifetime.”

You point your spoon at him, “I’m sure I can speak for all of us when I say we’re beyond lucky to experience you and all your greatness in our lifetime.” You give him a big smile. 

Dominic stares at you, and you can’t read his expression but you also don’t look for too long. Opting to look into your cereal bowl, because you could feel the love-sick look that was about to show on your face.

“You’re too good at this sentimental shit dude, what the fuck.” His voice sounds a bit choked up, so you try to lighten the mood. 

“Don’t start crying on here or I’ll be forced to use it as my thumbnail for views.” The staff comes to your aid with laughter, and Dominic joins in. 

“You wouldn’t do that.” He goes to wipe his face with his shirt but is met with silence and your face back to its deadpan. He looks between you and the staff, then the camera. He speaks a little unsure, his voice going up a pitch.

“Right?”

You fully break character and full-on laugh. Unable to keep up your act with him. 

The podcast continues for a bit longer before you bring it to a close. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to say before I take a nap in your bed?” The cameraman zooms in on Dominic. 

“Um, thank you for having me. This was easily my favorite interview I’ve done. The cereal was great.” he laughs and holds up the bowl. “To my fans, I love you all so much, thank you for always showing out for me.” 

“Please continue to love my album, and stay tuned for what’s to come.” Someone behind the camera whistles, and everyone begins clapping.

The camera zooms out and shows you staring at Dom with the expression you feared the most. You’re looking at him with a dopey smile, cheek resting against the palm of your hand. 

One of the staff calls out your name, and you blink, jumping up and looking at the camera, then back at Dom who’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin. 

“Oh my god, were you falling in love with me just now?” 

“No, what.” You scoff, looking around like he’s crazy. 

“Holy shit, you were totally falling in love with me!” He laughs while moving up and pointing at you excitedly. The staff once again, betray you and join Dom. You mutter curses and pull back the blankets, stumbling off the bed and speed-walking away. The camera follows you, as you go behind the staff and all the equipment.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Dominic’s still laughing, hopping up and following after you.

“Let me take you out to dinner, I’m sorry!” He calls, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and slinging himself over you, while you cover your face and groan. 

The camera follows you both all the way out until you turned the corner. Laughs still loud and boisterous on the set. 

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

   "Hello, Si-"

  "Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

     You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

     He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

       "Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

    "Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

    He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

    "No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

    It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

     "Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

     He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

     His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

      The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

     He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

     The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

     The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

     "I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

    "Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

     He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

    "Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

    "Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

     His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

    A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

     With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

    You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

    As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

     "Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

    "Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

     "Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

      You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

     Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

    "I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

      You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

    Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

      You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

    Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to.  A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

     "Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

    "Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

     "I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

    "Where is your family?"

    "I'm sorry?"

   "Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

    "Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

      The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

    He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

     Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

     "I must admit... a bit."

    "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

    "Really?"

    "Mhm."

      You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

     One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

     The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

     "Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

    He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

     The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

     He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

     The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

     All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

      "Mingi—"

    So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

     He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

     You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person. 

     He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

     "W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

     "It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

     The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

      "G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

    And he absolutely revels in it.

    "Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

     "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

     Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

       He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

     "Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

       "Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

     "Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

    Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

     "Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

     "Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

     "Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven." 

    The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

    "Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

    "I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

    "If it is, we would be silly together."

     "You mean-"

    "Yes."

    You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

    Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

      A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

     "Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

      There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

     "Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

    "Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

     He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

    He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

    He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

     He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

     All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

      Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

     He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

     "Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

     "Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

     "Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

   "You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

     "No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

     Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

     "Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

      That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

     "He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

     He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

    "Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

      With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

    He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

      "Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

     He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

      He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

      "Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

   They share a look.

    It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

    You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

    The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner. 

     He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

     Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

      "Buck."

   "Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

     "Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

     "Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

   "That's what's gonna happen."

   "You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

    Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

      Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

    He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

     He puts a bullet in his brain.

     You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

    As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

     And then all is silent.

    With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder. 

     "What the hell was that, boy?"

     "That was me saving your ass."

༄

    Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

     Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

     You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down.  And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

     Because he was the gunner.

    Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

    WANTED.

    DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

 DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

    The door to the bar swings open.

   The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

    "Mingi..."

    "Are you okay, Doll?"

   You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

    "Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

     "What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

   Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

     "You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

     Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

     "Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

     Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

    "You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

     It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

     You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

    Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

     They don't know that Mingi was the one.

     He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

     "Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

     "I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

     "Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

     "Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

      Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

     He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

      He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

      You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

      He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

    He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

       He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

    "Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

     "Why not?"

   All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

    A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

    "Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

    He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

    Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

    "Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

    "Aye, man, I did what yo-"

    "Too close."

    "Just give me my mon-"

       His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

      "Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

     Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

    "I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

     Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

    Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

     He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

    He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

   The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

    It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

     He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

     And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

     Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry,  slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

     You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

       You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

      "I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

      "I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

     He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

    You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

    He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

    But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

     He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

     You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

     His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

    Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

    "You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

     God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

     He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

     Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

    He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

    "Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

    He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

     "Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

      Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

   Mingi is so deep.

   Mingi is so thick.

   Mingi fucks you so good.

   Mingi treats you so good.

   Mingi loves you.

   Mingi.

   Mingi.

      "Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

     He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

      "Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

    "F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

     "Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

     He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

    "You did... but I liked it."

    He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

    The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

    "But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

     He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

    "I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

      He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

     "Mrs. Song."

༄

[moonywritez6]

I'll Make It Better (Reupload)

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji 

Reader: fem reader 

Warning: harsh language, bruises, pet names, blood, suggestive nsfw (Zoro, Sanji)

Context: They spot a fresh bruise left on the reader and wish to kiss it all better~

Wc: 4,600

A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

______________________________________________________________

LUFFY 

You sat on the thousand sunny humming to yourself as you carefully polished one of Sanji's cooking knives. You had been working on the Baratie with Sanji when the straw hat pirates had appeared. At first, you were scared, hiding behind any of your coworkers whenever the new busboy, Luffy, kept trying to speak to you. You knew he was a pirate as you watched him get in trouble for not paying for all the food he had eaten. Eventually, you came around to the rubber boy when you had been hiding from him in the kitchen, none of your coworkers currently available to be your human shield. Luffy was looking for you all around before spotting you trappin' you in the corner as he asked you to join his crew for the third time.

You recall Sanji yelling at him each time, stating that you weren't a fighter, just a waitress taking a few cooking lessons from everyone. However, Luffy never cared about that. "You make those yummy desserts, right?" He had asked you, a giant smile on his face, practically drooling over just the thought of your yummy sweets. You shyly nodded your head, still uncomfortable around the pirate. "Then join my crew! I want to keep eating your yummy sweets!" he laughed while placing a hand on your head, causing a tiny blush on your cheeks. Of course, you only agreed once you watched the straw hat defend the restaurant you grew to call home, making sure to give everyone proper goodbyes as you and Sanji set off on your new journey.

Smiling at the memory, you carefully place the newly polished kitchen knife with the others. “Y/n!!!!!!!” You heard the familiar voice of your captain shout, followed by arms wrapping around your shoulders. You smiled, a small blush on your cheeks as you felt his body press against your back. 'He's warm.' as the thought crossed your mind, you noticed Luffy leaning over you with a giant smile as his straw hat blocked some of the sun from your eyes. "Hi, Luffy." You giggled softly at your energetic captain, whose arms wrapped around you. "Y/n, I want something sweet!" He demanded, giving you his signature smile as he looked at you with bright eyes. You hum, turning your gaze away from him as you look up, trying to think of what you could make him. "Would you like something warm or cold? How sweet?" You started asking multiple questions about what kind of sweet he sought.

Luffy just watched you, not processing your words as he smiled lovingly whenever that childish light filled your eyes whenever you talked about desserts. It made him fall in love with you two years ago when you both went crazy over the desserts at a bakery you visited while Sanji shopped for ingredients. Luffy didn't say anything as he carefully went and held your chin between his thumb and index finger, causing you to freeze a slight blush on your cheeks. Luffy turned you to face him with a giant smile and laughed. "I want something sweet right now!" He declared before leaning in to kiss your lips. You squealed a small giggle muffled into the kiss as you happily accepted it.

Luffy hummed, satisfied with the kiss as his arms, still wrapped around your shoulders, gave a slight squeeze. You slightly flinched as you felt some pain in your right shoulder. Luffy instantly noticed the flinch and pulled away, his eyes examining you curiously, a slight pout on his cheeks. "What's wrong? Did I do something?" You internally cursed as you shook your head, not liking the sad puppy look your boyfriend/captain gave you. "N-no! It's not you!" you stammered quickly, sitting on your knees as you shook your hands in front of your face. "I-it was just my shoulder, is all…" You trailed off, not wanting to make eye contact with your boyfriend. "Your shoulder?" He questioned before carefully sliding the fabric of your shirt away from the area you had mentioned.

Luffy's eyes widened as he saw the freshly formed bruise covering your usually untouched skin. "WHAT HAPPENED?!?!" He cried, worried as he looked at your shoulder, unsure what to do as he knew you're not a fighter and your pain tolerance isn't the best. "I'll go get Chopper!" as he's getting up to find the doctor, you grab his wrist, stopping him as you laugh, a giant smile on your face. "Haha! Luffy, it's just a bruise! It will be gone within a few days!" Your boyfriend pouts his eyes, not leaving the tainted flesh on your shoulder. You just smiled carefully, placing your hand over it, your fingers barely touching the tender skin. "It must have happened earlier when I was helping Sanji carry some of the heavy bags. I ended up bumping into the doorframe." You admitted with a content nod.

Luffy just stared at your shoulder, not saying a word before he went and sat on his butt, legs spread open as he held his arms out towards you. You hum, looking at him curiously, before crawling to the spot between his legs. Luffy watches you sit comfortably between his legs before wrapping his arms around your waist. "How much does it hurt?" He asked, resting his chin on your head as he lifted a hand to poke at the bruise softly. You cringe a bit, causing Luffy to mumble an apology. "It just hurts a little, is all. Honestly, Luffy, I'm fine! It's not the first time I've had a-!!!" You stop speaking as a deep blush covers your cheeks, eyes comprehensive.

Luffy sat there, his lips carefully pressed against the bruise, his hand cupping your shoulder. "L-Luffy?!" You squeak, surprised at his sudden loving gesture. Luffy pulls away from the kiss and smiles at you, his arms pulling your waist closer to him as he lets out a loud laugh. "Shishishi! Your kisses are always sweet, so if I keep kissing the bruise, the sweetness will make it go away, right?!" He looked at you with joy-filled eyes and a slight blush. You looked at him in awe before a gentle smile graced your face as you lightly kissed his cheek.

"Mhm! I love you, Luffy!"

______

ZORO

You quietly tiptoed your way onto the thousand sunny. The crew had docked at a small island for a few weeks, and today, you had gone out drinking with Nami, the two of you wanting to party once again like you used to when you both joined the crew early on. "Do you think they're all asleep?" You whispered, glancing back at the navigator, who was also trying her best to be quiet. "For your sake, I hope so." She muttered, her head gesturing towards the hand covering your eye. You just scoffed, rolling the visible eye. "Let's just get to the infirmary." She nods as both of you sneak through the dark halls of the ship. "How are you feeling?" Nami asks as you both reach the door to Choppers' work area.

Relief washed over you when the lights turned on, and the room was empty. "Sit in the chair; I'll get the first aid kit." You do as Nami says, tossing your coat on the back of the chair before sitting with a loud sigh. "I didn't know how tired I was." You muttered, causing Nami to laugh as she walked to you, kit in hand. You watched her place it on the table, slowly taking what you needed out. "Well, I could be wrong, but I think a big part of that could be what happened there." She gestured to her left eye, a sly smile on her face. You hum, leaning back in the chair, hand still covering the irritated area. "Whatever, let's just get this over with." Before either of you could do anything else, the door opened, causing you to jump as you both turned to see who entered the room.

You felt your heart stop as the little color you had left in your face drained out. There in the doorway stood your highly protective boyfriend, Roronoa Zoro. You clenched your jaw and refused to move even slightly from your spot. Zoro looked at the two of you; his brow raised as he stopped messing with the bandage on his hand. "You two are back? What are you doing here?" he grumbled, assuming you would still be out enjoying your night. You cleared your throat, avoiding the swordsman, not wanting him to notice anything wrong. Nami just laughed as she stood before you, waving a hand.

"We just got tired! Y/n and I wanted to ensure we treated any cuts from our heels!" You commended Nami for how fast she made excuses in tense situations. Earlier that day, you and Zoro had gotten into a fight because he didn't want you only going out drinking with Nami, saying how it isn't like it used to be, and now that you were all famous pirates, danger lurked all around. Of course, you both ended up yelling at each other. One yelled how he needed to go with you both, while the other yelled how he was being overprotective. It ended with both of you storming away, not speaking for the rest of the day. 'Fuck, why him.' you thought while closing your eye; a headache started.

Zoro looked at you both, his eye narrowing in suspicion as he let out a small grunt before wrapping his wound in fresh bandages. "I see…" He mumbled, grabbing what he needed. You just sat staring at the wall, praying he would hurry up and leave. To your dismay, Zoro sat on the edge of the small bed across from you girls. He looked up at you, eye narrowed, a blank expression on his face. "Don't let me stop you then." Nami flinched, sweat trickling down her neck as she glanced back at you, unsure what to do. You bit your lip mentally, cursing your luck as your leg started shaking up and down. Zoro continued to wrap his hand, his gaze not falling from his nervous crewmates. You let out a deep sigh as you gave Nami a small smile. "It's fine. You get some rest, okay? It was a long night." You admitted while shooing her off with your free hand. Nami hesitated, looking back from you to Zoro, who waited patiently, arms resting on his knees.

"Okay…shout if you need anything. You get one free service from me as thanks for tonight." You scoffed, hitting her arm as she gave you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone. "What happened?" Wow, straight to the point, huh? You thought while sparing him a slight glance. "It was nothing." You mumbled, turning to him fully. "Are you done wrapping your wound now?" practically hinting that you want him to hurry up and leave. Zoro scoffed at your attitude as he stood up straight, brows furrowed. "It's like that, huh?" the two of you glared at one another, both too full of pride to back down. You didn't want to admit to him that, in a way, he was right about having to tag along earlier.

Zoro lets out a deep sigh as he stands up, heading towards the door. You feel your heartache as you open your mouth to call his name but stop yourself looking down at the ground. 'It's for the best. After all, it will only be another fight.' As the thought crosses your mind, you hear the door lock, causing your head to turn back. Zoro stands in front of the door, his face expressionless as his eyes lock with yours. "Zoro?" You question your boyfriend, trying to understand what he was planning. The swordsman said nothing as he slowly made his way over to your seated figure. You look away, feeling your nerves starting to get the better hand. Zoro quickly catches your chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. "Y/n…look at me, baby." Your heart dropped at his words as tears instantly filled your eyes. His voice was so gentle and filled with worry, a sound only you would ever hear from your usually uncaring boyfriend. You sighed as you removed your hand while slowly lifting your head to him.

Once your eyes met Zoro's, you instantly felt his grip on your chin tighten, his body going stiff as his eyes filled with rage. "Is it that bad?" you tried to ease the tension, quickly taking over the infirmary with a small laugh. Unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't in a laughing mood. Oh no, Zoro was seething with rage as he stared down at your swollen and bruised eye. He noted where some dried blood stained the injury, indicating that you and Nami must have stopped the bleeding earlier after the incident. "You were bleeding." To his surprise, Zoro kept calm as he went and caressed that area of the wound, causing you to flinch, a hiss of pain leaving your lips.

"It wasn't that bad, honestly…it just covered one rag." One rag? One fucking rag of your blood?! Zoro looked up at the ceiling, his neck flexing from anger as he took a deep breath. "What happened?" He whispered, feeling his composure falter as he looked at the wound. "This jerk at the bar! He wasn't taking no for an answer and tried dragging Nami off! So, I kicked him in the knee, and…he didn't like it…" You trailed off, watching Zoro's expression go from calm to pure rage as he clenched his jaw teeth, looking like they would break. You quickly tug his wrist with a nervous smile as you try to laugh off the situation. "H-hey! If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy! This is nothing!"

Zoro grips both sides of your face, his eye boring into yours. "I'll kill him." He growled, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. You looked at your boyfriend briefly before tears began falling down your face. "Zoro! Zoro, it hurts!" Emotions finally took over as your sobs filled the room. Zoro's grip instantly loosened as he kissed all around your face, his lips hovering above your bruised eye. "Shhh. It's over now, baby. I'll kiss it all better." He mumbled while you whined slightly, signaling he could kiss the wound lightly. He chuckled as he sank to his knees to be at eye level with you. "Do you feel better?" He asked while wiping away your last few tears.

You nod, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry, Zoro…you were right." he frowned at your words, his hands softly squeezing your thighs. "Shut up," he muttered while pressing his lips to yours. You jumped back slightly due to the shock of the sudden kiss. Zoro smirked while gently biting your bottom lip, earning a slight whine as you opened your mouth, allowing Zoro to slip his tongue in. He hums in approval while still massaging your thighs with his rough hands. After a moment, Zoro pulls away a tiny string of saliva hanging from his lips. He examines your face, seeing the deep blush on your cheeks, your lips wet from the kiss as you take a few tiny breaths.

He licked his lips as he cupped your cheek in his hand, gently caressing the area below your bruised eye with his thumb. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, admiring every part of you with his good eye. "Tch. Yeah right. In case you forgot, I have this hideous mark on my face." You gestured towards your eye with a frown on your face. Zoro hummed while dipping his face into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up and down your thighs with occasional squeezes. "You're still beautiful…" Zoro trails off while leaving kisses up and down your neck until he finds that sweet spot, lightly biting down. "Z-zoro!" you yelp in surprise while trying to push him away. He doesn't budge as he starts to leave small hickeys and bite marks down your neck and across your collarbone. You let out a few soft moans while lightly ruffling his hair. "Zoro…" You whisper, earning a slight hum as he brings his face up to yours, giving a quick kiss as he squeezes your thighs, causing a familiar feeling between them.

"Sorry…if that bastard's mark makes you feel ugly, I wanted to leave my marks that you've said make you feel beautiful…" You blush at his words, feeling your chest flutter as he goes and leaves tender kisses all over your face again. "Do you want me to stop, baby? We can cuddle instead…" He whispered, resting his head against yours. You close your eye in thought as you process all of today's events and let out a small sigh. "As much as it pains me, I'll have to go for cuddles tonight." You sigh dramatically, earning a grunt from your lover, who rolls his eyes while standing up. "Dramatic woman." He joked as he went and started to mess with the items Nami had gotten out earlier for your eye. He kissed you before holding the things up towards your wound.

"Hold still for me Y/n baby."

________

SANJI 

"Do I have to?" You whine, sitting on your bed and watching Nami and Robin go through your swimsuits. Nami looked at you, rolling her eyes as she tossed another. "Oh, come on, Y/n! It's such a nice day out!" She yelled while Robin gave a small smile, holding a swimsuit up for you to judge. You looked at it momentarily before nodding your head in approval as she handed the fabric to you. "Fine! But only because Robin picked a cute one!" You scoffed, walking away from the two girls who high-fived each other. You quickly change into the swimsuit, taking a quick scan in the mirror before your eyes land on your thighs. You puff out your cheeks when you notice the bruises. 'Oh, come on! I keep waking up to these.' Your eye twitched in annoyance as you stormed out of the room to join the girls already in their swimsuits on deck.

You walk onto the deck, scanning the area before your eyes land on Nami and Robin, who send a wave your way. "Oh wow! You're wearing a swimsuit?!" You heard Usopp call in amazement, not used to seeing you in anything that shows too much skin. "Yep! So, soak it all in, boys~" You tease your crewmates, who just laugh at you. With one more scan, you nod your head, noticing that your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Otherwise, you would have a problem on your hands. You plop down next to the girls with a heavy sigh as you lean back, taking in the sun's rays. "Oh my, did something happen, Y/n?" Robin asked, noticing the minor bruises on your thighs. Nami hummed as she sipped her drink, eyes following Robin's gaze.

"Oh yeah! These appear sometimes!" You laugh, waving off their concern as you look back at the bruises. As you girls talk, Usopp walks into the kitchen to grab water due to the day's heat. Everything was nice and peaceful, the air filled with a nice calm-" SHE WHAT?!?!" A sudden voice boomed throughout the ship, causing everyone to jump. The three of you turn your heads as the door to the kitchen flies open with a loud bang. Before anyone could even blink, Sanji is in front of you on his knee; a hand extended out towards you as your boyfriend looks up at you with giant hearts for eyes, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "OH MY DARLING Y/N, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE OUT?!?!" He cooed hearts surrounding him like no end.

You sat there staring at your romantic pervert of a boyfriend in awe before smiling, a laugh leaving your lips. "Sanji! Haha! You don't have to make it such a big deal!" You laughed, causing your boyfriend to gush as he did a small dance around you. "Y/n~ my darling~" He sang, going and wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. You hummed, leaning back into your boyfriend's touch as the girls smiled, shaking their heads. "He hasn't looked at Y/n yet, has he?" Nami mumbled while Robin giggled, lifting her book over her mouth. Sanji hummed, having completely forgotten why he ran out in such a panic as he went and looked down at you.

You watched as Sanji's face went from pure bliss to shocked silly as his eyes fell onto your exposed cleavage. Sanji's eyes practically bulged out of his head as they darted around your form, taking in every piece of exposed skin you were showing. Sanji's smile widened as blood started gushing from his nose, causing everyone to sigh as Chopper panicked and quickly got to work. You just laughed, shaking your head while enjoying the sun.

After about half an hour, Sanji shot up from the deck, a white cloth stained red from his blood sticking out from his nose. The cook's head quickly darts around, trying to find your form. "She went to the kitchen to get a drink," Robin whispered, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. Sanji jumped up with a smile on his face as he went and placed a kiss on Robin's hand. "Thank you, my dear Robin~" Sanji sang, running towards the kitchen. Before opening the door, Sanji took a second to compose himself, getting ready to see your form again in that sexy swimsuit. A tiny bit of blood trickled from his nose just at the thought. With a few slaps to the face, Sanji took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

"Oh good, you're awake!" You cheered, sitting on one of the tables with a cup of water in your hand. Sanji stood in the doorway, frozen stiff as he took in your appearance. You were just too sexy sitting in his kitchen in such revealing fabric. Sanji took a deep breath before heading towards you with a giant smile as he extended his arms for a hug. "Y/n, my love~" He sang before wrapping his arms around you, pulling your exposed flesh closer to his body. Once your body's connected, you can feel Sanji aggressively shiver as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "You look so gorgeous, cupcake~ absolutely stunning~" He purred, his hands trailing over your body.

You laugh, a slight blush on your cheeks as you place the cup of water behind you before playing with your boyfriend's hair. "Sanji~ do you like me better like this or in my usual clothes?" You teased, already knowing what his answer was going to be. "No matter what you wear, mon chéri, I will love you until my heart stops beating~" He purred, kissing your neck. You giggle, moving slightly to make yourself more comfortable. However, this allowed Sanji to glimpse at your thighs, noticing the bruised skin. The atmosphere in the room instantly became tense, causing you to look down at the cook in confusion. "Sanji?" You watched as his body twitched.

"Who did it?" You tilt your head in confusion, barely hearing what your boyfriend whispered, not moving his head from your neck. "Come again?" You questioned innocence laced throughout your words. Sanji looked at you, eyes filled with anger as he clenched his jaw. Then, you noticed his firm grip on the table you sat on, causing you to grow concerned. "Who hurt you? Who dares to taint your precious skin, mon amour? I won't let them live another day!" He growled, rage-filled-eyed, locking with your shocked and innocent ones. You just stared at him briefly before smiling, your laugh soon echoing off the kitchen walls, catching the man by surprise. "Haha! Oh my, you made me scared for a second!" Your comment makes Sanji flinch, as he never wants to scare his precious girl. "I'm sorry, mon amour…" he looked down, feeling guilty for frightening you. You watched him for a moment before your body suddenly jumped. Sanji had placed his hand on your thigh, gently caressing the bruises with his rough thumb. You blushed at his sudden action, watching as his eyes became serious, focusing on nothing but the discolored skin.

You felt your body relax as you carefully cupped Sanji's cheek, causing him to hum as he instantly leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as a small smile blessed his face. "I'm okay, Sanji. I wake up with bruises sometimes; it's no big deal! I promise no one hurt me~" You laughed, giving him that bright smile he loved more than anything. Your words take a second for him to process before a giant smile crosses his face, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, I see! That used to happen to me when I was a kid!" He cheered, his tone utterly different from the one he had just moments ago. You smile gently, kissing his cheek, causing him to blush as he looks at you shyly. "Not fair." You giggle at him while he caresses your thigh, causing a bit of heat to rise within your body.

"S-sanji…you don't have to keep caressing my thigh." You whispered, feeling embarrassed as you tried to move back from him. However, he suddenly pins you to the table, causing you to let out a small gasp as you stare up at him in awe. He looks down at your eyes filled with lust and love as he gives a sly smirk. "mon amour…earlier when I asked you about the bruises, I felt your body tense in fear but also…" Sanji trails off as he leans next to your ear, gently nibbling on the skin, causing you to flinch as a small whimper leaves your lips. Sanji's warm breath hits the tender flesh, causing your heart to go wild as his other hand goes and pulls your lower half closer to Sanji.

“Pleasure am I correct mon amour?” His words caused you to shiver as Sanji chuckled, taking the unlit cigarette from his lips and trucking it behind his ear. "Did I make you excited Y/n~? Did you like me getting mad?" He teased you while slowly sliding down to your lower half. You blush heavily while quickly trying to get up. "S-sanji! Not here!" You hissed, checking the door to ensure no one walked in on the inappropriate scene from the other side. Sanji hummed, amused with your sudden shyness as he went and bit the inner part of your thigh, causing you to jump once more, this time a small moan escaping your lips. "You said these bruises appear when you're sleeping, right?" He mumbled, placing light kisses up and down your thigh, his eyes watching your every expression.

Sanji loved teasing his girlfriend; your expressions were just too cute and sexy for him to ignore. "How about I make sure to inspect your body every morning for any bruises that suddenly appear?" He purred, going and leaving a hickey on your soft flesh before rising back up and pulling you closer to him, your crotches pressed against one another as he smiled, cupping your cheeks, a deep blush coating his cheeks. "Sanji…" You whispered his name so sweet it caused him to shiver as he went and placed his thumb in your mouth while caressing your chin.

"Mon amour…. can I cover those filthy marks with my own loving ones?" 

[cozage]

Hello!! I love your writing and would love to see a follow up of the captured by marines ask where they go and rescue the reader :)))

A/N: This is the last of the Captured by Marines/Rescued by Pirates short fics! Luffy’s and Law’s were posted earlier today, check them out :)

Characters: female reader x Ace

Cw:  angst, torture, reader in peril

Total word count: 3k

Part 1

Rescued by Pirates - Ace

It wasn’t long before he saw the Navy ships, and he smirked to himself. How easy it had been to get to them. He wondered if the Marines even knew who they had, if they knew what kind of death sentence that had placed upon themselves by taking Whitebeard’s crew. By taking you. 

He heard cannon balls splash around him and knew he had been spotted, but he wasn’t concerned. His Striker was too fast and too small to be caught by a stray firearm.

Watching the Navy scramble around like that on the ships made him laugh. Actually laugh out loud. So loud that he knew his crewmates could hear it. That you could hear it. 

The navymen on the ships took aim and fired to no avail. He wondered if they knew it was a lost cause. Not that it mattered. They should’ve known he would come after them. They really should’ve prepared better. 

He lept off his Striker and jumped up to the deck, smirking at all the wide-eyed marines. Everyone just stood there unmoving for a second, shocked by his sudden appearance. 

“Hey there fellas, you wouldn’t happen to know where my crew mates are, wouldya?”

His question nudged them into action, and they all began firing. The bullets went right through him, and he stood there, letting them empty their rounds of ammo. Once they were done, he shrugged and ran past them down the stairs. 

His division had taken a few ships like this hostage, and he was familiar with the layout. He didn’t worry himself with the Marines staring at him. They’d all be at the bottom of the ocean soon enough, but he couldn’t sink a ship with his crew on it. 

“Ace!!” He heard a small group of about five men cry out, finding them locked behind a cell of sea prism stone. He cursed the substance, but smiled at the men regardless.

“Hey guys, howya been?” He looked around, but you weren’t there, and his heart sank a little bit. This would be a lot easier if he knew you were here fighting with him. “Any idea where the key is?”

“The vice admiral!” One of them shouted.

“Be back soon!” He tipped his hat and ran back up the ship to find the keys. 

He found the Vice Admiral holding the keys out over the edge of the ship. The man looked very nervous, and Ace knew he was a coward without even speaking to him. 

“Give me the keys, and I’ll spare your life. How’s that?”

“No way,” the man’s voice trembled as he spoke. “I don’t make deals with pirates. 

Ace didn’t argue. He just held out his fingers to create crosshairs aimed at the man.

“Listen here,” Ace said, his voice deadly serious. “I don’t have time to play around. Either you give me those keys and I let you and your men go, or I send everyone on this ship to a watery grave. Your choice.”

It turned out that Ace had picked the right ship, because the vice admiral was nice enough to give him the keys for every jail cell on every ship. Ace ran back down the stairs with the keys in his hand, and the feeling of success on his shoulders. 

He unlocked the cell and his crewmates rushed to hug him, but he waved them off. “Tie up all the marines and hold them hostage. Once we have everyone, we’ll put them on one ship and let them go.”

The pirates look at him like hes crazy, but he shrugs. “I got the keys without a fight. That was the trade off. I’m a man of my word.”

The second ship was as easy to take as the first, but you weren’t on that ship either, and Ace was starting to feel nervous. Three ships with Marines this weak shouldn’t have crushed the third division of the Whitebeard Pirates so badly. 

The third ship was quickly taken over as well, and you were still nowhere to be found. His crew mates must have sensed his panic, because finally someone spoke up. 

“They took her separately since she had devil fruit powers,” a crew mate said. “They said she was too dangerous to keep on these ships. She’d be..” the man trailed off, scared to finish. 

“What? What’d they say?” Ace said, trying to rush him. 

“They said she’d be good bait.”

“Bait…” Ace could feel his skin catch fire at the words, and his crewmates backed away from him. He wanted to destroy the small fleet of ships they had just captured, and he struggled to keep his cool in the moment.

“Get on the other ship. Now. Sail back to Whitebeard.” He handed Whitebeard’s Vivre card to a man and stood as they all scrambled away. 

He weighed heavily what to do next, and forced himself to clear his head before he decided what to do. Once the Navy ship with Whitebeard’s pirates were out of sight, he stripped two of the Navy officers of their clothes and put one outfit on, saving the other for later. He burned their main sail, and made sure all of the men were tied up tight on one ship. He took the small transponder snail with him, and then as he left, he set the second, abandoned ship ablaze without looking back. 

He moved fast, following your vivre card again. He hadn’t even thought to look at it while he was freeing the others on the ship, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He couldn’t have left his family there, in the hands of the marines and sentenced to Impel Down. Unlike with you, he would’ve had no way to find them again, and they’d be gone forever. He knew he had made the right choice, but it still hurt to know you had been moving further away from him rather than getting closer. 

He sailed through the day and into the night before he saw lights of other ships. He quickly extinguished his own boat light and watched the ship closely. He wanted to go in as wild as the fire he created, but he was certain the members of this crew would be significantly stronger than the last ones he encountered, and he needed to get you out alive. 

As his Striker crept up to the side of the ship, he was surprised by the lack of watchmen. He was expecting infiltration to be harder than this. And then his Striker tapped the side of the boat. 

“Did you hear that?” Ace heard a voice from above, and he silently cursed himself. 

“Hear what?” An older voice huffed.

“I dunno. Sounded like something hit the boat, I think.”

“I think you’re hearing things, Cadet.”

“We should probably check it out.” The voice moved closer, and Ace readied himself for a battle.

“I told you kid,” the older voice spoke. “The Captain said that the Whitebeard Pirates wouldn’t come until a public execution was set. They’re going to take this time to rally their forces, and they’ll attack when it’s a public event. It’s much less impressive to kidnap some girl from a Marine boat, but to fight the entire Navy while the world is watching? That's the spectacle the pirates will want.”

“How do you know?” the kid asked.

“I was around when Roger was executed-” Ace flinched at the name. “-and it was the same thing. Pirates everywhere, waiting for someone else to make the move. But nobody ever did, and he was executed because of it. That won’t happen again though. They’ll take a stand. They’ll make a show of it.”

“You were there for Roger’s execution?” Fascination filled the young man’s voice, and Ace rolled his eyes. “What was it like?”

“Ha! Let’s go grab a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.” The older man’s voice was paired with footsteps leading away from the railing, and Ace tied his Striker to the ladder and climbed up it.

He peeked his eyes over the railing and only saw two other men on deck, other officers who were probably on watch. They were facing away from him, and he silently jumped over the railing and landed on the deck. 

He smoothed out his Marine uniform and straightened his cap, trying his best to blend in. 

This ship was similar to the last three he had taken over, and he had to resist running downstairs to find you. Instead, he walked around, trying to figure out where the keys were. He found a board with a schedule for watch duty on deck and watch duty for the prisoner. 

As he was staring at the board, another man came up to him. He looked to be about his age. 

“You wouldn’t want to take my shift watching the bitch, would you?”

Ace’s anger flared up, but he smothered it quickly to keep up the appearance. 

“I don’t know, man. When do you have to watch her?” He said, eyeing the man next to him. 

The man was about as tall as Ace, but extremely skinny. It looked like he was too tall for his own body, like he hadn’t filled out his own skin yet. He had bright orange hair and a crooked smile, and just looking at him made Ace want to punch him in the face. Though Ace wasn’t sure if that was because of the man’s comment about you or his appearance. 

The man chuckled. “In thirty minutes, and I'd love to go back to bed. Had a bit too much to drink, if you know what I mean,” the man chuckled, and Ace joined along halfheartedly until the man continued. “Last thing I want to deal with in the middle of the night is that chick.”

Ace raised his eyebrow. Of course you were giving them hell. “She that bad, huh? Have you seen her?”

“Just when she got on the ship. She was kicking and screaming until they put a gag in her and knocked her around a few times.”

Ace gritted his teeth. “Sounds feisty.”

The man snorted. “You can go find out for yourself just how feisty she is in about thirty minutes if you want.”

“You’ve intrigued me,” Ace said, pretending to be casual. “I’ll take it if you switch for my shift tomorrow.”

“Deal.” The man held out his hand, and Ace took it. “I’m Rogan.”

Ace nodded. “Nice to meet you. Chance.”

“Well, you’re really doing me a solid, Chance. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, the orange-haired marine walked off to bed. 

Thirty minutes. Ace had thirty minutes to keep a low profile and find the key to your cell, and then you would be free. He grabbed some coffee from the cafeteria to rejuvenate him, and got a small snack as well. He had been fighting and sailing for over a day, and the exhaustion was starting to catch up with him. 

He must’ve dozed off at some point, because a loud speaker jolted him awake to alert a shift change. He cursed himself, now he wouldn’t have time to find the keys to your cell. 

He walked down the stairs to the jail cell, and found another man waiting for him. 

“Here,” he said, shoving a rod at Ace. The man’s eyes flicked nervously back to the cell behind him. “If she acts up any more just stick her with that.”

The man started up the staircase and then turned back to Ace. “Just some advice: Don’t taunt her. She’s…” he paused, and his eyes shifted back to the cell where Ace guessed you were. “Just don’t acknowledge her. The other guy should be here soon, and I know we’re supposed to only guard in doubles, but I can’t take it anymore.”

The guy disappeared from sight, and Ace heard your voice chirp up from behind him. 

“If you think you can subdue me, you’re wrong.” He could hear the animalistic growl in your voice, and he shuddered to think about what you had been through while you were parted. 

“Oh,” Ace laughed, turning to face you. “I think I can handle you just fine.”

He could see your eyes shift when you caught sight of his freckled face, hatred instantly turning into relief. 

Your eyes flicked to the doorway to make sure nobody was there, and then you looked back at him and smiled. “That Marine outfit suits you,” you said, your voice returning to the sweet sound he was used to. “I get why Garp wanted you to live this life.”

Ace laughed loudly, and then clamped a hand over his mouth as you both looked towards the doorway. 

“I don’t have the key to get you out,” he said disappointingly. 

“The next guy who comes will,” you said. “He should be back in about 10 minutes I think.”

Ace raised an eyebrow at you, and you smiled wickedly in return. 

“They think I’m weak because I’m a girl,” you scoffed, and you saw his lips tug upwards at the corners. 

“It’s a dangerous thing to do, underestimate a pirate.” He winked at you, which made you erupt into a fit of giggles. 

“Quiet down now, spitfire,” Ace chided back to you, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m going to sleep,” you said, leaning your head back against the wall. “Wake me up when it’s time to move.” 

Ace turned away from you, watching the door. He waited for someone to come, and finally the door opened a bit. 

“She’s finally asleep, huh?” a hushed whisper came from the door. 

Ace nodded, glancing back at you slumped against the wall. 

The man smiled sinisterly, and Ace’s entire body tense watching  his expression. 

“Good,” the marine hissed. “Hand me that electro-rod. I need to teach her a lesson.” He grabbed the keyring around his belt loop and unhooked it as he walked towards your prison cell. 

So that’s what Ace had in his hands. An electrified rod. He had seen them used before, but he had never been hit by one. 

Ace frowned at the man. “I thought we weren’t supposed to-”

“Shut up, boy,” the man snapped. “She mocked my honor. I’ll be damned if I let a pirate laugh at me, and a female one at that.”

He unlocked the door, and held his hand out for the rod. “Give it here, and get over here if you want to see a show.”

“No,” Ace said, pressing the button to activate the rod. “I don’t think I will.”

The man looked at Ace with a baffled expression, and Ace jabbed at him with the rod quickly. It was such a swift and sudden movement, the man didn’t have time to react, and he fell backwards. 

Your eyes snap open and your throw your hand around the man, using the chain on your cuffs to act as a clothesline around the man’s neck.

Ace stands over the both of you with a dark look in his eye. “You made a mistake, and it’ll cost you now.”

He jammed the prod into the man again, and you covered his mouth to muffle his screams. 

“You underestimated her.” He prodded the man. “You underestimated me.” Another prod. “And you underestimated the Whitebeard Pirates.” This time, he smacked the man with the blunt rod, and you felt the marine go slack in your arms, unconscious. 

He grabbed the key ring and unlocked your shackles quickly, his eyes watching the door.

“Ace!” You cry out, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. “You’re so scary!” He can hear the smile on your lips, your voice full of pride. 

You both wrap the Marine in the shackles and relock the door to the cell. Ace looked back at you, watching the man with hatred. 

“What did you do to him?”

You smiled slightly. “He’s just sensitive about some things, that’s all.”

Ace gave an impressed whistle, but didn’t ask anymore questions. “You ready to do this?”

You look at him and raise an eyebrow. “You think this is gonna be hard?”

“Not with you by my side.” He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “The hard part is over.”

He was right. The few marines that you encountered were quick to take down. It made you nervous. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it never did. You all dropped onto his Striker without anyone being alerted of your absence. 

“The Marines I heard earlier said they weren’t expecting Whitebeard to make an appearance until an execution was set,” he explains, reading your thoughts. “Makes sense why this was so easy.”

“They only took me separately because I was a devil fruit user.”

“They had no idea who they captured,” he said, and he roared his Striker to life. “Stupid mistake on their part.”

You hum in agreement at that. “Still seemed too easy,” you said, frowning. 

His arms wrapped around you, and he kissed your cheek. “You’re so used to fighting powerful foes, you don’t know what to do when we catch a break.”

He started to take his Marine outfit off, but you stop him. “Keep it on,” you say with a wink. “It suits you.”

He smirks, looking down at himself and then at you. “I’ve got an extra one if you want it.”

You scrunch your face. “No thanks.”

“Fine, but I’m taking off the hat.” 

He took his Navy cap off and placed it on your head, and then he unbuttoned his shirt, but kept it on for you. For now.  Ace opened a side compartment of his Striker and found his hat, placing it back on his head, feeling a lot more comfortable. 

“Perfect!” You said, pulling him in again for another sweet, long kiss.

[alotofpockets]

Private not secret | Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: You and Lizzie are both part of the MCU and attend a panel together, what happens when an interviewer tries to press Lizzie to talk about the ring she's wearing when you're keeping your relationship private from the public? A/n: This interview gave me inspiration for the ring part.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1k

From the moment you first laid eyes on Elizabeth Olsen at the table read for Captain America: The Winter Soldier you knew she was going to be someone special in your life. As you expected the two of you grew close quickly and eventually started dating. It’s been ten years since that table read and she has become the most important person in your life. With both of your celebrity statuses, the conversation of privacy had come up pretty quickly. You had each voiced not wanting to have your relationship to be public, your relationship wasn’t a secret, you just preferred it to be private. 

As you were checking out the outfit you picked out for Marvel Con in the mirror, Lizzie walked up behind you. She snaked her hands around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder. She admired you in the mirror, “You look so beautiful, baby.” You smile at her compliment, she always knew how to boost your confidence. “Thank you, darling, you look amazing yourself.” Lizzie held one of her hands out in front of her, “I don’t want to take it off, how would you feel if I kept it on?” You lace your fingers with hers and kiss the ring on her finger. You admired the ring you had picked out for her many months ago, the ring you had chosen to ask her to marry you with last week. “Yeah, I’m good with you keeping it on. Are you ready to go?”

The convention was so much fun, you met back up with so many friends and coworkers. It was rare that you were all together besides filming, as there were so many of you. You also got to meet a lot of fans, take pictures, hear their stories, and admire the art they made. You were on a few panels, most were without Lizzie, while Lizzie had her own panels, like the WandaVison panel with Paul Bettany. To close off the convention there was one last big panel for CA:TWS, there was one big couch and an armchair, for the six of you. The interviewer welcomed everyone to the stage, “Welcome everybody to the last panel of the day, give it up for Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Elizabeth Olsen and Y/n Y/l/n!” The crowd cheered and the first four sat down on the couch, making it full. You and Lizzie look at the armchair which isn’t exactly big enough for two people and laugh, you tell Lizzie to take it and sit down on the armrest yourself. The interviewer offered up her chair, but you assured her that it was all good.

“Thank you all so much for joining us, the ten year anniversary of Captain America: The Winter Soldier is coming up, Chris, how does that feel?” Chris takes one of the mics, “It’s so crazy to think that ten years ago we started filming the first movie of the MCU. I’m so thankful for being able to play this character and how much we’ve got to expand this universe to the big screen and introduce all these new heroes. Yeah, it’s been great.” The interviewer says it’s time for a question from the audience, you turn to face the person standing at the mics and all say hello. “Hi, I’m Ryan, and I have a question for y/n, what is your favorite memory from filming the movie?” Lizzie hands you the mic she was holding, you smile at her and thank her. “Oh, that’s a good question! I have so many good memories from that movie.” Your eyes move over to Lizzie for a moment only to see that she was already looking at you, you smile and focus back on the crowd. “I think I’m gonna have to go with the fight scene where we’re running through an office. So, papers had to be flying off of desks and the amount of times they had to be picked up to be able to shoot the scene again was just so funny.” 

Another fan comes up to the stand, “Hello, my name is Ellie, and my question is for Elizabeth. You’ve spoken a bit about your anxiety and I was just wondering how you manage to keep that under control with big crowds like this.” You hand the mic back to Lizzie, “First off I want to emphasize how important it is for me to talk about subjects like these, so thank you very much for your question, Ellie. “Secondly, for me, having people around me that make me feel safe is very important.” Lizzie places a hand on your knee. “For instance, I know that if I were to start feeling overwhelmed, y/n would notice and help me stay grounded.” 

The interviewer continues after all the fan questions are answered. “So, Elizabeth, I noticed a pretty ring on your finger.” Lizzie looks down at her hand, “Yeah, it’s beautiful right. it’s a cocktail ring, my fancy ring.” The interviewer presses on, “Is it a cocktail ring though?” You want to step in and tell the interviewer she should stop pressuring Lizzie, but before you can speak up Scarlett does. “Before we have to go, I’d like to ask you all a question. I would love it if we could take a big group picture, would you be up for that?” The crowd cheers. You all kneel down at the edge of the stage so that everyone fits in the picture. “Thank you.” You whisper to Scarlett as you move back to your seats. 

Once the panel is over you head to your backstage room with Lizzie. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to the lady.” Lizzie grabs your hand in hers, “You’re all good. That would probably have been more suspicious than how Scar handled it. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our night. “You’re right.” You share a sweet kiss before heading over to your friends.

[missycolorful]

The scene with q!Forever and q!Philza at Global spawn in Pugatory is something that will always kinda sit in the back of my head. Because it truly, truly solidifies the strength in their dynamic, and neither of them will probably realize it lol. Hello, I'm here to be insane about q!philever, so buckle up

Like everyone else, q!Phil was dealing with a lot in Purgatory. He began to lose trust in close friends. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to save his children. While trying to uphold his morality and not kill except in self-defense, he was very much walking a fine, jittery line. All while trying to keep his team organized and motivated. Aside from kind of losing his mind like the others, there was no clear indication that Phil's composure was dangling by a loose thread.

But then he's allowed a moment of peace to exchange information with another team. It's just him and Forever. No kills planned, nothing. Just two people allowed to talk about the absurd situation they've been thrown into. A moment to really take everything in.

During the conversation, Forever doesn't hold judgement toward Phil or anyone else due to the event, even when he comments on Philza's kill on Rivers. Even when Phil tries to justify his actions, Forever doesn't hold it against him. It's hard to say exactly how important this is to what happens next, but I feel like it means something here.

It's when q!Forever says that once they leave Global Spawn, that they become "enemies" again, this is when q!Philza breaks. And I think this moment has been glossed over by many (I want more fan art, dammit >:T) cause it doesn't feel big on the surface. It's not like cc!Philza genuinely sounds heartbroken, his cries sound... a little exaggerated/dramatic, you know? What he cries about isn't anything groundbreaking, it's what many of them feel ("I don't want to be here." "I don't want to kill my friends."), even though Phil fans can sense a deeper meaning here. And after Forever briefly consoles Philza ("Everything is going to be good. This is what we need to go through."), Phil, like a flick of a switch, is right back to his composed, level-headed self. It was like that moment never even happened.

But it did, and it drives me crazy that he did it in front of Forever. cc!Phil made that conscious choice to have his character lose composure, his character that he and his fans knows is an emotionally constipated motherfucker. And the reason it drives me nuts is because how the fuck did we get here?

I can imagine this scenario with lots of characters, and it never plays out like this (i.e. with Tubbo, he'd likely just keep it all in. Et cetra.). I don't see him letting himself be this vulnerable around most others. Hell, before this, I never would've imagined he'd do this in front of Forever, either.

But the more I think about it, it kinda makes sense.

Phil and Forever's relationship is a funny one. Early on, Phil wouldn't trust Forever with a toothpick. He'd never be emotionally open with him. Forever even held a bit of animosity toward Philza after Phil'a final rejection. But that rocky start is honestly a huge part of why it is as strong as it is now. Cause, well, the strength of any relationship comes from accepting all parts of a person. Flaws and all.

Some characters hold Philza up on a pedestal (i.e. q!Missa). They don't really see his flaws. They don't think about his ugly sides. They just see a pillar of a man who is always willing to help, who can do anything and everything, who keeps composed and lighthearted and level-headed in any scenario. q!Forever was kinda like this, at one point.

But Forever realizes that isn't the case eventually. Because Phil's not great at dealing with emotional situations, and Forever learns that the hard way. Phil's not good at talking about feelings, he can be blunt and a bit harsh, because he's a pragmatic sort of guy. But it takes a softer, gentle approach to reject someone, and Phil wasn't ready for that. So, in retaliation to the hurt Phil caused him, Forever had a conflicted relationship with him. It didn't last long, but I digress. This brief shift in their relationship was for the better. By not placing him on this pedestal anymore, Forever began to see Philza in a different light. One that didn't cast Brunim in its shadow.

With Philza, Phil saw Forever at, arguably, his worst in the beginning. Obsessive, threatening, clutching onto a pipe dream with no regard for Phil's feelings. But over time, Phil got to see the much more real sides of Forever. When Tallulah lost her first life, when Forever made NINHO. He saw a passionate and intelligent side to this guy who was obsessed with him, and he respected that person. And with this recognition, he offered his trust to Forever, such as giving one of his presidential votes to Forever.

Both of their perspectives for the other changed throughout the first few months, and I believe they gained some level of appreciation between them because of that. They share this newfound respect and trust. And that is the core to their new relationship. Consistently, Forever and Phil have given each other open and mutual respect and trust. Never is either of these things taken for granted, abused, or manipulated in any way.

When Forever is hooked on the happy pills, he subconsciously seeks out Philza's help, which Phil offers with ease. Before Forever goes to the Nether, Phil expresses his worry and wants to help. But he doesn't push, because he respects Forever's agency, and trusts that Forever is doing what he thinks is best. (also during this scene, when Forever gave him access to the warpstone in that secret part of his base, only Forever and Richas had access to it beforehand, which feels like a big moment according to his fans, so! :D). So when Forever returns to the Nether, while he doesn't believe Fit and Pierre when they say they tried to save him, he absolutely, 100% believes in Philza.

Because he knows Philza by now, and Philza knows Forever. Maybe not on equal levels, but still. After merely a few months, they've slowly begun to understand each other a bit more. So I guess it's only natural that they'd be more open around each other.

I'd even argue that this isn't the first time Philza lets down his walls around Forever. It just didn't happen when Forever was awake.

I wouldn't say that Phil talking to Forever while he was in a coma is the same level of vulnerability as the scene in Purgatory. Because Phil wasn't totally direct with his feelings, he sort of deflected (the story, banging the pots and pans, calling him an idiot, etc). Hell, even when he is expresses how he feels, he's not entirely direct: "We just really care about you. We wanna see you come back. You're making us worry." Like, of course everyone cares, but to say this as we when it's just the two of you obviously feels like a moment of vulnerability but not wanting to admit to it. Cause, hey, under different circumstances, he absolutely would've committed to visiting Forever in the hospital every day. Still, his very open worry did give off a sense that his walls were crumbling.

So with all of this, if Philza can meet with someone alone in practical hell, and that someone, a person he openly trusts and cares about, can look him in the eye and say "I don't judge you" on the things he's has done, maybe that allowed the floodgates to open for a bit. Maybe once Forever said they'd be enemies outside those doors, the situation hit Phil like a truck, and he just couldn't keep it in anymore. And maybe knowing it was just the two of them, Phil knew he could be a person around Forever, not a leader or a mentor or a force to be reckoned with. And Phil really needs someone on equal footing with him like this. He needs someone he can feel safe around. So for him to find this in Forever, of all people, even if it's just for this moment, is extremely important to me.

The way their relationship has progressed, perhaps it would've been simply a matter of time for Philza to be open with Forever. I dunno when Phil will be quite so open around Forever again, but I do say when with a fair enough of certainty (or I could be wrong and I'm simply talking straight outta my ass but who knows). Because to have this moment with Forever was intentional, even if it feels like a blink and you miss moment. It may have been under a minute, it may not feel important to other viewers. BUT to me, it genuinely says so much about their relationship, how far they have come, and where they are now.

[altf4d3lete]

Episode One this is single-handedly bringing back my obsession even though it never left

- its 2022. Why is everyone freaked out bc a girl wears all black. Like people do that on a daily basis nowadays

- PUGSLEY POOR GUY :(

- “I want names” didn’t you JUST see them walking away from the locker

- Stop shoving him in a locker tied up is actually so mean wtf

- I see people use this piranha scene as justification that she’d be okay with murder, but really it’s justification that she wouldn’t be okay with people hurting her friends and those she cares about AT ALL. She’s trying to KILL these guys just for bullying their brother. Imagine what she’d do to Tyler for hurting Eugene and Enid.

- The intro is SO fucking cool

- Emma was so far down on the list of actors and now my girl is #3 behind Jenna and buscemi. She’s a main character now B)

- If I were Wednesday I’d be pissed too. I CANT with the parents. Like I love you but RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER 😭

- It’s five minutes in and I have so many notes

- Have to say again with the “terrible, they’d know I didn’t get the job done” that Wednesday is MORBID, not okay with murder unless she deems the person deserves it

- Ergh there is clearly so much discrimination against outcasts

- Weems and morticia r lowkey giving homoerotic rivalry…

- I FORGOT HOW FUNNY WEDNESDAY IS

- I genuinely can’t even like… I CANT WHY DID WEEMS PAIR HER WITH ENID 😭

- Guys Enid is SO cute holy fuck. She is UNPHASED bro, she’s just so excited to have a roommate she’s so cute I’m sobbing. She just wanted to accept Wednesday.

- YALL WHEN THEYRE WALKING DOWN THE STEPS WEDNESDAY LITERALLY GRAVITATES TOWARDS ENID. LITERALLY RUNS INTO HER

- Wednesday just lies about killing two kids to Enid and Enid just moved on like nothing happened.

- Also HELLO? THEIR BANTER? Enid takes NO shit 😭

- Hmm part of me wonders if those wolves howling were making fun of Enid.

- They’re literally leaning into each other wha

- “You better watch your back” and Wednesday is behind her that’s so funny

- How do you go from “cute but clueless” to “obsessed” enjax was lowkey forced whereas wenclair had chemistry from the beginning

- AW PUGSLEY HES SO CUTE

- Wednesday being a housewife will NEVER make sense

- I know people hate the relationship between Wednesday and morticia but it’s very realistic. You can easily tell they still love each other despite the harsh words.

- YEESH THE HYDE TORE HIM APART (I think this works with my theory that the more Tyler is aware of the Hyde, the more controlled his attacks get. Which also means that he knew what he was doing when he killed Kinbott, leaving her alive to taste her fear. And he knew what he was doing in the forest when he tried to kill Wednesday and nearly attacked his father)

- WENCLAIR FIGHT THEYRE SO FUNNY TOGETHER THEY ARGUE LIKE AN OLD COUPLE

- when did Wednesday check out enid’s blog. How and why.

- THE LITTLE SCOFF BEFORE “you mean emojis?”

- Enid huffing is crazy girly is ANGRY

- The way they just stare each other down is crazy wenclair is SO full of banter I forgot how hilarious they are

- ENID SIDE EYES WEDNESDAY SO MUCH

- Bianca lowkey eating everyone up…

- Bianca is so aggressive in her fighting style, whereas Wednesday is precise. It’s really cool

- THE GASPING IN THE BACKGROUND AFTER “let’s see if you bleed in black and white.”

- Xavier scoffs so much in this show and every time he does it lowkey makes me hate him more

- “No good deed goes unpunished” okay elphaba

- Girly was smiling when she was about to die.

- DUDE WHY WAS XAVIER LEANING OVER HER? WHO DOES THAT? JUST SIT DOWN NEXT TO HER.

- “Call it instinct” shut up actually

- Bro she had NO clue who Xavier was 😭

- It bothers me that ppl think she cared Xavier was in the coffin. She just wanted to see the godmother come back to life fr

- THING HAHA MY FAV

- I would be flabbergasted if my therapist read the equivalent of my journal before our sessions. She never should have been sent that.

- Ergh Tyler…

- The deep voice lowkey sounds really forced, idk what it is about Tyler’s voice but it bugs me. I think it’s the way his lines always kinda have the same delivery.

- Twenty bucks when he probably makes that in like half a day of work 😭

- The pilgrims look like such dorks bro who are they tryna scare 💀

- Why are they asking her if she’s “been with a normie” that’s so weird

- “THIS LITTLE THING TOOK DOWN THREE BOYS???” HELP

- Her playing with the necklace means everything to me

- Damn the hiker was the third victim

- The sheet music doesn’t match what she was playing but that doesn’t rly matter

- Love that enid went from disgusted to things bff

- Their roof scene is so meaningful to me. They work so well together. Enid doesn’t need anyone but Wednesday and Wednesday doesn’t need anyone but Enid. Enid teaches her how to relate to others and feel empathy and Wednesday teaches Enid to unapologetically be herself.

- Nero :(

- Them bonding is so cute 😭 this is rekindling my obsession

- Notice the immediate disrespect from Tyler but Enid gets close with thing so quickly

- Damn Enid is suspicious. Bro has some killer instincts

- “Hint taken” and Xavier proceeds to KEEP talking to her

- So Wednesday gives Tyler a time and place and you’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that those three pilgrims show up at that exact time at place? Literally there WAITING? No way. Tyler had to have told them, sorry about it.

- I lowkey feel bad for Weems. She’s a little controversial but she was just trying to do her best for nevermore

- Nah man that was an absolute ploy. There’s no way they just happened to know where to be. Tyler was trying to keep her from leaving. He already knew who she was by then and that they needed her.

- Rowan was so conflicted he didn’t deserve to die. He was just trying to protect people

- The way she scrambled over to him even after he tried to kill her :(

- YALL I LOVE THIS SHOW WTF 😭

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 7

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is the reader's nickname, angst as always, fighting between our two main characters + smut, and fluff.

a/n: Hello! Chapter 6 is here. First, I want to thank every one of you for reading and reblog and comment on my story, it makes my heart happy. This chapter is shorter than the last two, but is a chapter I had to rewrite 3 times because, but I didn't like it at all, but I hope you do a little bit at least? haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated and please share your thoughts with me, I love reading from you No proofreading so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. Happy reading. 💌

masterlist

It's been two weeks since your last visit to Joel's place. It's been two weeks since you showed up on his doorstep, angry and broken because you blamed him for wrecking your plans to move on and start a new life, and two weeks since he kissed you.

Two weeks, and Joel had started to become crazy because of your radio silence.

He had thought that after your emotional outburst, you would simply need time to think, hoping that you would return sooner and ask him to try, for real this time.

After three months of not having you that close, he had replayed every moment of with you, every touch, your eyes, and the taste of your lips. He had poured his heart out to you, declared his love, and yet your response was requesting time to consider his intentions.

He feared you were tired of him, and the accident's wounds didn't hurt as much as his heart. He was recovering faster, yet his emotions were pained.

He recalled the night he crushed your heart, thinking this is exactly how you felt when you said "I love you" and he failed to respond the same back. For him, the irony of pain was how badly you wanted to be comforted by the one who hurt you, but now it was you who wasn't there.

The longing for you got stronger as the days passed, and it became increasingly difficult for him to sit still and wait for you to reach for him. Joel acknowledged that your silence wasn't completely a rejection, but he was afraid that the distance you were creating might shatter what was left of your story.

He didn't want you to become a memory; instead, he wanted to create memories with you.

"I think she's being unfair to Joel," Tommy said over dinner, seeing Sarah, Lily, and Joel's gaze on him.

"Why do you mean by that?" Lily asked, defiantly

 "Joel told her he loved him, wasn't that what she wanted?" he inquired.

Joel threw his brother a cautionary stare as Lily scoffed.

"No, no, it wasn't. She didn't stay because of him."

The weight of the conversation was pressing down on Joel. He was aware that everyone around him were concerned about him, but at the same time he hated how everyone had a say about you and him, not knowing what really was involved.

"It's not like he forced her to stay," Tommy continued.

Joel's irritation was rising, and he felt the tension between his brother and Lily; after all, she was your best friend, and she would defend you from everyone.

Joel pushed his plate aside, feeling that he was in an endless cycle of emotional limbo as he lost his appetite. All he wanted was to have you back in his life, but that was a decision only you could make, and it was driving him insane.

"Can you both stop?" Joel interfered, his voice firm. "I don't need you two fighting over something that was my mistake."

Tommy and Lily fell silent, their expressions softening with concern. They exchanged a glance before Lily spoke, her tone gentler now. "Joel, Tommy is worried about you. We can see how much you're hurting."

Joel nodded, acknowledging their concern. "I know. Thanks for looking out for me, but this is something I have to figure out with Bee. If she needs time, I'll give her time, even if it kills me”

Tommy, understanding his brother's feelings, nodded in agreement. "You're right, Joel. We'll be here for you, no matter what."

Joel appreciated their support, but he couldn't help but wish that you would break the silence and give him some clarity about your feelings. The uncertainty was becoming almost unbearable.

Joel continued going back to the moments you'd had, your most recent overwhelming argument, and your decision to take some time apart. He wished he could break the stillness and tell you how much he loved you. He wasn't just driven by the desire to fix his mistake; he also wanted to repair a relationship that had been harmed due to his commitment.

He felt more anxious with each passing day, his longing for your presence almost unnerving. The gap between you required to be filled with understanding, trust, and reconciliation.

He'd been on edge for days, spending his days recovering from the accident, alone when Sarah departed for school, with only a painful silence echoing in the back of his mind, waiting for any sign from you.

When the doorbell rang one hour later, he felt a rush of hope running through his body, thinking that maybe you had finally come to him to talk things through. He rushed to the door and opened it, only to find you standing there with a serious expression and small envelope in your hand.

"Joel," you said before he had a chance to say something "I've come to give you this."

He was taken aback, expecting an emotional talk rather than a monotonous tone leaking through your voice, indicating an absence of enthusiasm.

You didn't even look like yourself; you were painted in grey shades.

"What's that?" he asked.

You handed him the envelope containing the money he had paid Connell for your shop behind your back "I don't need anything from you, Joel. Not your pity, not the idea that you own me because you bought my shop. I can take care of myself."

Joel's face contorted with an array of emotions as he was taken aback by your words. "Bee, it's not about that. I—"

But you cut him off, your frustration evident in your voice. "Joel, you can't just buy something I love, throw your money at my back, or kiss me and expect everything to be fine." You won't be able to buy your way back into my life."

He struggled to hold back his anger in the midst of your stubbornness any longer. "I'm not attempting to bribe my way in, Bee. I thought I was showing how much I cared, how much I was willing to do to in order to make things right."

Your eyes were filled with rage. "What?" you ask. "You thought that once I found out you were the one buying my shop, I was going to run back to you?" "That I was going to be over heals for you?" you hit him in the chest.

Joel's rage and pain welled up within him. He tried to narrow the gap between you and make amends, but every step he took appeared to push you farther away. In an outburst of rage, he cried out, "What do you want from me, Bee?" "How long will it take for us to get things right?"

You shook your head, the annoyance clear in your voice. "You can't expect grand gestures to fix everything." It takes time, effort, and faith to repair what has been damaged."

"All right," he said, taking a step closer to you and leaning in closer. "If you despise me that much, leave!" "Leave as you said you were going to"

You stared at him agape, your own anger rising at him. His words stung.

Joel's remarks had hurt deep, and you couldn't deny that you had been holding resentment and rage. But his closeness, his intensity, made you feel weak "Maybe you want to go back to what we used to be, all the fighting, all the cursing," he whispered in your ear, "Maybe you loved that."

The harsh tone of his words caught you off guard. Your feelings for one other were a tangled knot of love, anger, impatience, and hurt.

You were drawn in by his dark gaze, and you cupped his face firmly feeling the warmth of the skin beneath your fingertips. The rage remained, but beneath it was an obvious spell that kept you together.

"Shut up," you commanded, your stare locked on his, his lips inches from yours, his breath against your mouth.

"Make me," he challenged you, staring you in the eyes.

Joel's dare hung in the air, challenging you to break the distance dividing you, to let go of your rage and fury, and eventually give in to the magnetic pull that had always been between you.

You crashed both of your lips with not a single word, going into an intense kiss. It was laced with desire and frustration against each other, the climax of all the tension that had been building over the weeks you were together once and three months apart. Your lips moved eagerly together, each of you pouring all of your feelings into the kiss.

And now that his arm was healed, he clutched your hips and push you against the door, without intentions of stopping devouring your mouth in this hungry kiss. Your arms found their way to his neck to tangle into his locks, and Joel groaned into your mouth.

"You fucking idiot," you muttered between kisses, but he bit your bottom lip to silence you as his hands moved from your hips to your bum and to your waist, drawing you closer to him. His lips started kissing your neck until they found your mouth once more, you whimpered against his mouth.

His hands found the gem in your top and yanked it off. He'd spent the last three months longing to see you like this again, and now he was on cloud nine.

"Bedroom," he whispered softly, not breaking the kiss.

Once you stepped in his room, you were lying on your back with him on top, taking your lips back to his again.

You placed your arms around his neck and opened your legs so he could go closer to you, moaning at the sensation of him against where you wanted him most.

"This doesn't mean anything," you whispered as he ground his hips against yours, sending electricity running through your body.

"Shut up," he said, and you chuckled, grabbing his pants.

"Make me," you said, with a smirk on your face just like he did minutes ago.

He groaned into the skin of your neck, yanking his jeans and underwear off. Your gentle grasp on him caused him to whimper.

He drew you closer to him by your hips as you continued to devour one other, his hands going under the denim skirt you were wearing.

You knew this was bad, that allowing him to do these types of things with you was a show of weakness, but you couldn't stop the joy and the dazzling fireworks traveling up to your lower stomach were stronger than your thoughts. You were utterly out of breath, and you wanted him so bad it ached that you felt your lungs would catch fire. 

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

He paused kissing you and spreading kisses on your chest for a moment to gaze at your parted lips and your chest rising and falling as a result of him, and he couldn't lie, he felt proud of his lasting control over you.

"Are you going to keep looking or are you going to f-"

You couldn't finish before he snatched your lips back, dragging you around his waist and grinding himself against you, making you moan against his lips. With such want, you could feel the aching growing up between your tights.

"You don't seem so mad at me right now, do you?" he huskily whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Before you could fire your retort, his fingers teasingly pulled your underwear down, careful to avoid where you wanted him the most. He seemed to be having a good time and enjoying every second of you squirming under him. Your head fell back to the bed, a gentle but irritated murmur from your lips. When he saw your reaction, he smiled, and you felt the delicate touch of his fingers stroking across your core.

"Oh," you whimpered, out of breath.

His soft lips caressed every single area of your skin on your chest, just over your red bra, with an agonizing slowness that made you insane and roll your eyes of pure pleasure. The one he unhooked with one hand so swiftly you gasped, a sound drowned out by the sensation of his lips over your nipples while he continued to pound on you at your core.

He greets you with a laugh, his cheeks exposing his dimples, and his eyes shining at the sight of you.

"Stop teasing, you idiot," you grumbled.

He sucked on a nipple, causing your back to arch as he gripped your hips to the bed before meeting your eyes, absorbing every inch of your face lost in the joy of the moment, stroking your checks with his thumb.

As he grabbed for a condom from his bedside table, you grip the gem of his t-shirt to remove it, leaving no barrier between the two of you.

He moved between your tights, spreading them apart once more, and welcomed himself into you. You hadn't had him since that night when you confessed to him, and he felt even bigger than you remembered, and you both gasped when he began thrusting inside. He pushed his forehead against your neck, kissing you softly over the skin.

"You're amazing like this," he said into your ear, "God I could just-"

He could complete it since he focused solely on making you pleased picking up his pace and thrusting quicker. He was completely inside you, feeling like he was breaking down your defenses as he pushed it on and on. You were out of breath, and all the air in your lungs didn't feel quite enough. You bucked your hips, allowing him to move even more quickly. And that's exactly what he did, giving you everything you asked for.

As your nails left red lines on his naked back and he thrust his hips harder into you, you could feel the heat spreading all over your body, like diesel meeting fire, causing an imminent explosion.

You struggled to breathe, but it didn't matter since the surge of ectasis he gave you was enough to make you feel alive. His finger traced the patterns over you, leaving hot flames all over your skin, and you clutched him, trying to appreciate this closeness before it was ripped away.

And he continued to rock into you. The sounds you both produced were completely hot, forcing your blood to rush into your checks as you continued to toss your head back to give him permission to mark the skin of your neck.

"Fuck you," you said in ecstasy,

"you’re doing it, love" he retorted.

You grasped for his hair to hold him tight against your lips, kissing the warm skin under his ear as if you wanted him to hear you, panting for air, feeling your climax come so close that you trembled against his body. Not long after, your world spun around you, and you tightened your grip on his waist, feeling the release as you cursed in his ear, forcing him to release after you. His push grew sloppy, sending small sparks up your tights, till he came to a halt and you saw a delicious sight.

He kissed your temple for a few seconds longer, enjoying the sweat drips on your skin. Finally, you looked into his eyes. His brow eyes' delicate brightness sent thrills down your spine, leaving you with a lump in your throat.

 Joel chuckled as he caressed your warm face, his touch on your skin radiating affection. All of the tension and resentment that led you to have sex before disappeared into the void.

"You don't have to go anywhere," he leaned in, his lips brushing against your brow. You're exactly where you should be."

You closed your eyes, appreciating his proximity and the soothing sound of his voice. “How can I trust you?”

Joel's lips lingered on your forehead as he replied, his words filled with sincerity, "Because when I hold you like this, it's where I find peace and meaning, Bee. I was a fool not to see it then. It took almost losing you to realize I'm in love with you."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, everything seemed to align. The honesty in his confession left you breathless. The anger, the passion, and the pain you both had shared had led you to this moment, where the love you had for each other was undeniable.

Your heart ached at his words "Joel, it's not that simple. There's so much we need to work through, so much we need to rebuild."

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "I know, Bee”

Joel rested his forehead against yours, enveloping the both of you in comfortable silence.

“Can you give me my clothes, please?” You asked breaking the atmosphere

With a heavy heart, Joel nodded and reluctantly pulled away from you.

He moved to take your clothes from the ground of his bedroom and handed them to you. The air between you felt charged. The lust, and passion you felt for each other leaded you to crossed the line once again, this time, being the anger, the main feeling holding you together.

“You don’t have to go now, you know that?” he pleaded,

You avoid looking into his eyes, you knew you were weak for the man and you could fall for his words.

“I know, but I need to” you answered, as you quickly dressed, convincing yourself, you didn’t want to give yourself so easily to him again.

"Can you give me my clothes, please?" You spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. 

Joel nodded, involuntarily breaking away from you, with a heavy heart.

He took your clothes from the floor of his bedroom and handed them to you. The space between you now felt tense again. The lust and passion you had for each other drove you to cross the boundary once more, but this time with fury as the main feeling holding you together.

"You don't have to go now, you know that?" He begged,

You avoid looking into his eyes because you know that you were vulnerable for him and you might be persuaded by his words.

"I know, but I have to," you��replied as you hurriedly dressed, assuring yourself that you didn't want to give yourself so easily to him.

Joel sat there silently watching you, his eyes full with love and need for you. He knew what had just happened was fueled by rage and desire, and that didn't mean you were okay with him. It would be difficult to repair your connection.

You turned to face Joel as you finished dressing. "I need some time, Joel." Time to reflect, heal, and figure out where we stand."

“It was good by the way” you addressed smiling at him, referring to what you’d had “But it doesn’t mean I want to be with you right now."

With those words, you made your way to his bedroom door.

“And what was that back at the hospital when I got into the accident?” he asked before you left, “Would you rather for me to be dead or what?”

You came to a halt as his words impacted you like a punch in the gut. You turned back to face Joel, your rage returning.

"That's not fair, Joel," you replied, your voice shaking with emotion. "You know I would rather die than lose you like that".

"Then why are you so scared?" he questioned, reaching for you once more.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to fight the oncoming storm of emotions. "Because I'm not just afraid of losing you." I'm afraid I'll lose myself again. "I'm afraid of getting hurt." You let out a sigh. "You led me on back then, how can I trust you again?"

Joel took a step closer, his voice desperate. "I promise not to hurt you again, Bee." I've learned from my errors. Give us a chance to make things right."

You shook your head, unable to find the appropriate words. "Joel, I need more than promises. I need time for healing and rebuild trust. That is a process that cannot be rushed."

Joel sagged his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "I'm at a loss for words, Bee. I love you and will do everything for you."

You took a step back, putting distance between you two. "Joel, love is more than just saying the words. It's all about showing it through actions."

You turned and walked away from Joel, leaving him with a broken heart and a need that mirrored your own.

You had taken refuge in your own peace a week later, evaluating your alternatives in all facets of your life. What were you going to do with your work, yourself, and even Connell, since despite his assurances that he would never hate you, you own him more than you realize.

And on the opposite side, there was Joel. He had expressed his love for you, but you had learned that words are insufficient in this instance. You knew it would take time to reestablish confidence. But as time passed, you couldn't help but miss him even more than you did the first time. He had a tremendous power over you. The times you spent together, the laughter, the shared moments, and how he taught you to fall in love again.

You remembered that night at the gallery when he showed you the drawing he had made of you. When he first caressed the skin of your body, leaving his mark on you.

Deep down, you knew that love was a tricky and imperfect emotion that didn't always follow a straight line. Despite your concerns, you wished to give Joel another chance.

A knock on the door broke through your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, cautiously approaching the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to see Lauren standing on your porch. She looked concerned, her gaze avoiding direct contact with yours.

"Lauren, what are you doing here?" "How do you know where I live?" you wondered. Your tone was a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Lauren took a big breath and looked you in the eyes. "I need to speak with you. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a second before stepping aside and allowing her to enter. She entered your living room and sat, her posture eager and apprehensive.

You joined her on the couch after closing the door behind her. "What's this about, Lauren?"

Lauren looked at you, her eyes searching for understanding. “I know our first encounter wasn’t friendly, and I want to apologize. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted”

Lauren's honesty in her eyes was not lost on you. You were afraid she was coming to tell you she was now with Joel, which could break your heart.

Lauren continued "And I'm really ashamed of this but I think you should forgive Joel"

You took a big breath, unsure what to say. Lauren's apologies caught you off guard, and you were at a loss for words. "I appreciate your apology, Lauren," you said after a little pause. It means a lot to me." "But Joel isn't a topic I want to discuss with you," you said timidly.

"It is," she replied. "I know you weren't together. He told me."

Your pupils dilated, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"And yes, at first I wanted to be with him," she admitted. "I wanted my family back, but it's too late now." And I have to thank Sarah for accepting me back into her life after what I did, but Joel? will never love me again."

"Why are you so sure?" you questioned, your tone tense.

"Because he has been in love since the beginning."

"The eyes, he had been looking at you with such adoration, neither I had those eyes looking at me like that."

You were out of breath, and a knot formed in your throat.

"No, that's not-"

"You love him too," she said, "and let me tell you something, the years I lost with Sarah?" I'm not going to get them back. So, if you and Joel truly love each other, don't waste more time."

Lauren's sudden comments stunned you while also leaving you conflicted. Her apology for her prior behavior was a step toward peacemaking, but her admissions regarding Joel and his sentiments caught you off guard.

You paused before responding, your mind racing, "I'm not sure I want to get hurt again."

She nodded in agreement, and he dug inside her purse for something, that turned out to be a journal.

She nodded in understanding, and then he reached for something inside her bag for something, it was a journal.

“I stole this from Joel. I think you should take a look” she laughed, giving the journal to you.

“I just don't want to see you both miss out on something beautiful because of fear or doubts. Life's too short for regrets."

You looked at her with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "I need time, Lauren, to figure things out and heal. I'll consider what you've said, though. Thank you for your apology and for your concern."

Lauren smiled warmly at you “Good luck” she said.

You couldn't help but stare at the book in your hands as you saw Lauren leave your house.

The journal she had given you caught your curiosity, and you couldn't stop yourself from opening it to find out what was inside.

You started flipping the pages, knowing it was Joel's journal. The entries spanned several years ago, from the years you arrived here, and reading them made you feel touched by the depth of his feelings and the journey he had been on. The pages were crammed with his ideas, hopes, and dreams, many of which were centered on you.

Joel had written about the day you two first met and the times he had spent with you, but it was the drawings of you that grabbed your attention.

"The pretty florist next to my gallery looking at her flowers"

"The florist in her environment, framed by a floral tapestry."

"The pretty florist, a captivating muse for my brush and canvas."

All of the entries were from the last four years.

However, the most recent one, from a year ago,

"the florist who stole my heart"

And you realized Joel had been loving you long before you had feelings for him.

a/n: Okay, so you know things may get better between them...

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981

[serasvictoria]

Title: Pretty Persuasion

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: You are the proud owner of Hawkins Records and have been for some years now, but dwindling sales mean that you might be forced to close the store that you love so much. Help comes in the form of Eddie Munson, former friend and frontman of a very successful band, but since the two of you hadn't parted in the best way 12 years ago there is no telling what will happen when you reunite again.

Word Count: 19.398

Content warning: 18+ mdni. Porn with lots of feelings. I am not joking, there are a lot of feels in this. Two idiots in love. Swearing. Oral (m and f receiving). Unprotected sex (p in v). Alcohol use, but nothing outrageous. Short haired Eddie (hey, if the guys from Metallica got a haircut in the 90s, Eddie can get one too). Please let me know if I missed something!

Notes: This story takes place in 1996 and Eddie and Reader are both 30 years old. Reader character graduated in 1984, the year that Eddie was supposed to have graduated as well, and left Hawkins shortly afterwards.

I made a playlist for this that I played whilst writing and it can be found right here for people that are interested. It's mainly alternative music from the 90s from bands that I love.

Beta read by the lovely Pearl. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @adrille88 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @quantumlocked310 @kaybee87 @istorkyou

“Hawkins Records, how can I help you?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip. This was crazy. This was probably the craziest idea that he ever had in his entire life.

“Hello?” He swallowed and before he could answer, the feminine voice on the other end started talking again. “Chase, is that you again? I can hear you breathing down the phone, you fucking perv. I swear to god if you call again I will fucking end you. We’re talking about me taking a pair of garden scissors to your house and cutting off your balls.”

“Wow,” Eddie said with a laugh. “Jesus. Harsh.”

“Oh.“ The surprise in her tone is clearly audible, even in just that one word. “I’m sorry, but we’ve been having some issues.”

“I can tell.” He laughed again and ran his hand through his hair nervously. “Look, I’ll make it quick, because I don’t want that guy to miss out on your furious, and might I add, sexy voice…”

“Fuck you,” the voice on the other end countered with a chuckle of her own. “But what can I do for you then? Want me to hold a copy of the Alice in Chains Unplugged CD for you?”

“Nah, thanks, I already have one,” he replied.

“Lucky you.” Eddie decided not to mention that he was given a copy by Jerry Cantrell himself. He didn’t like to brag. “So? What do you need?”

“Well, it’s not about what I need, but about what you need.” He could hear her groan on the other end so he kept talking before she gave him a lashing with her tongue (which he wouldn’t have minded much to be honest and he hadn’t even seen the girl). “I heard that the store isn’t doing too great…”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded decidedly smaller then, with a lot less confidence and bravado as before. “We got til the end of the year,” she sighed. “Unless I win the fucking lottery or something.”

“Guess this is your lucky day then, because I can make all your troubles go away,” he snapped his fingers next to the mouthpiece. “Just like that.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I want to make you an offer you can’t refuse...”

That was two weeks ago.

And now Eddie Munson was on his way to Hawkins Records.

Eddie Fucking Munson. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson as almost everyone at school used to call him. Eddie, the singer and lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin, the band that you’d seen play many a time at The Hideout before they’d made it big.

It was insane that you could even say that you once knew the frontman of a band that played at sold out venues all over the world. It had taken them years to get there, but they had made it.

While you had been away at college, Gareth, their drummer, graduated and shortly thereafter all four of them had left Hawkins to record a demo in Indianapolis.

Their self-titled demo was available in the store, still did reasonably well actually, and it got reprinted almost every single year. The first pressings were worth quite a bit of money and you actually had two of them upstairs, something that you had been saving for a “rainy day”. You had been slowly trying to get yourself used to the fact that that day might come a lot sooner than you thought, but then Eddie had called to make his offer, to buy the store and thus taking care of all your financial difficulties.

If he had been serious about it at all that was.

Because there was every chance that he might change his mind when he found out that you were the current owner. There was a history between the two of you that you’d rather not think of, but for all you knew, Eddie could turn on his heel and walk straight out again as soon as he saw your face.

The bell above the door rings and you instantly call out, “He’s not here yet.”

It didn't take a genius to figure out who had come round to check if Eddie had arrived. Again. It was only the ninth time that he had come round since the store had opened almost four hours ago.

Hurried footsteps approached the counter and when he reached it, his fingers started drumming on the old wood nervously. “He said that he’d be here over an hour ago,” Dustin says as he keeps his eyes firmly pointed at the door.

“Maybe he’s stuck in traffic somewhere,” you reply as you turn the page of the current edition of Rolling Stone magazine, something that you were barely reading at all. It had Jenny McCarthy on the cover with a hotdog that she was spraying loads of mustard on in a suggestive manner. “Or you know, it could all be some elaborate joke.”

“He’d never do that.” Dustin looks slightly shocked that you even suggested that at all. His curly hair, which was usually hidden underneath a cap, was slicked back. There was so much wet-look gel in it that it shone like crazy. “Eddie loves this place.”

“I know,” you reply with an annoyed tone in your voice. Looking back down at the page, the words ‘An artist wears his work in place of wounds’ in a Patti Smith article caught your attention. “I used to come here with him, you know.”

Whenever Eddie had money to spare, he’d be in here and looking for new releases. When he was listening to something that he liked, which was often, he’d pull the worn headphones off his head and shove them in your face, while excitedly telling you, “You’ve got to hear this.”

You had been with him when he bought Judas Priests’ Defenders of the Faith for example, which had been proclaimed as the best thing ever by Eddie at the time. The then owner, Rob, had later gifted a poster with the cover art on it to Eddie which he had stuck to his bedroom wall that same afternoon. You also distinctly remembered Eddie making fun of your, sometimes poor, taste in music, like when you had bought R.E.M.’s Murmur, a band that you still loved and whose second album you were playing right now.

Every good memory of your teenage years was tied up to this store.

And to Eddie Munson.

“It’s why you took over, right?”

“What?” Your mouth falls open, completely in shock over his question. “I didn’t buy this store because of Eddie! W-why would I- fuck. That would be so incredibly stupid!” Dustin raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing you. “I didn’t! I love this place and I didn’t want to see it turned into another run of the mill store. And look where that got me.”

“It’s okay,” Dustin replies as his fingernail picks at a loose piece of veneer on the old counter. “Eddie will save the day.”

“Yeah right. I still say that all this is some elaborate pr-“

Before you can finish your sentence, the door suddenly swings open, making the bell ring again. You didn’t look up from your magazine this time either, especially not when you heard that voice.

“Jesus. This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

You gave yourself a quick once over and deemed yourself passable enough. Since you had been half convinced that Eddie was never going to show, you hadn't even attempted to dress up. It was hot as fuck too, the height of summer, and the old AC barely offered enough in terms of cooling the place down, so you had opted for a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top with the name of the record store printed on it.

At least the clothes were clean. Thank god for that.

Despite not wanting to, fearful of a look of disappointment on his face when he saw that you were now working here, you did eventually look in his direction. It was all too easy to picture that same boy that you had hung out with daily all those years ago. The youthful exuberance didn't appear to have left him at all, but he wasn't the same guy that you had once known.

His hair was a lot shorter for starters.

Back then, he had vowed never to cut it, even though he had had a buzzcut in middle school. The long hair was part of his persona, an extension of it if you will, and he had made jokes about how all his strength was in his hair, very much like Samson. It was cut short now, but still long enough to show off his curls, with one curled over his forehead in what was either a deliberate or accidental move.

His clothing hadn’t changed much. His outfit was still predominantly black, with jeans that were so tight that it looked like they had been spray painted on. His shirt, with a faded Metallica print, was sleeveless and showed off all the new tattoos that he had gotten over the years. You briefly wondered whether there was a piece of his skin that hadn’t been inked yet.

Different, but still the same.

“You’re late!” Dustin calls out.

“Traffic was a bitch,” Eddie replies with a chuckle. “Is that you, Henderson?”

"Who else?" Dustin approaches him and is immediately swept up in a big hug. Dustin had told you that he and Eddie had kept in touch before. From the moment that he had found out that both of you knew Eddie, he hadn't shut up about him. In fact, Dustin had been the one that had told Eddie that the store hadn't been doing well. "Hey, man."

"Hey." They release each other and Eddie pats Dustin's back one more time for good measure. "Haven't seen you in a while, big man." It had looked like Eddie had wanted to say more, but you could see his nose crinkle in disgust even from this distance. "The fuck. R.E.M.? I fucking hate those guys."

You scoff loudly from behind the counter and that was when he finally noticed you. "Fuck you, Munson. Pretty Persuasion is the best song ever."

"Is not, loser," he counters like he used to do more than ten years ago as well. "Jesus,” he grins. “Talk about a blast from the past."

"Something like that," you mumble as you finally close your magazine and move it to the side.

You could hear Michael Stipe singing ‘He’s got a pretty persuasion’ through the speakers. It felt very appropriate to you.

Despite Eddie always being very vocal in his dislike of everything R.E.M., you did wonder if he even heard the lyrics and whether he finally realized that whenever you heard that song, you always thought of him. Sadly, he showed no sign of awareness as his eyes swept over the place that he used to know like the back of his hand and your shoulders immediately slumped in defeat.

Too good to be true, eh? Just like old times, you thought to yourself and tried to settle into an air of indifference, the only line of defense that you had left.

Eddie started walking around the store like he used to do back then as well, with Dustin hot on his heels instead of you on this particular occasion. He kept looking up at the walls and the various release posters that you had plastered all over it.

Some of which were old, like the one for Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation which hung next to one for Rage Against The Machine’s Evil Empire which had been up there for about three months now.

You saw Eddie reach out and touch the Kurt Cobain poster, in a sign of respect. Some local kids had turned into some kind of shrine after Kurt had died two years ago, scribbling messages on it about how much he had meant to them. You didn’t have it in you to take it down.

Eddie and Dustin were talking in hushed tones, laughing occasionally, as they slowly made their way to the counter. Seeing Eddie up close for the first time in ages was making you nervous already.

Stop it, you think to yourself. You're being ridiculous. It's just Eddie. No big deal. Maybe he forgot all about what happened and then you can get on with your life.

"Didn't know you worked here," Eddie said when he was a couple of feet away from you.

"I own the place.” You almost sound too casual, which was a miracle seeing how you were a total mess on the inside.

"Really? Since when?"

"Since Rob died, so that's… what?” You start counting on your fingers quickly. “Eight years ago now?"

It was shortly after you graduated from college and you were still in that “What next?” stage of your life. You had merely been visiting Hawkins at the time, on a social call to visit some relatives, when you found out that Rob had died. Buying the record store had been a rather impulsive decision that you had never regretted, not until quite recently anyway.

"So you're the girl that I talked to on the phone?" He was standing on the other side of the counter now, his hands placed flat on the wooden surface, his rings immediately catching your eye. You nod in reply to his question. "You could have told me that that was you."

"Didn't think about it," you reply. You look at Dustin over Eddie's shoulder first, a big grin spread all over his face for some reason, before looking Eddie in the eye. "Why? Are you disappointed?"

"Fuck, did I say that?" He flashes you a wide grin, his dimples appearing like sunshine that was peeking through the clouds. "I know how much you love this place."

"Yeah. It seemed like the right thing to do, you know?” You thought that you were still pulling off this whole casual indifferent act, but from the way that Dustin was looking at you, who was trying very hard not to burst out laughing, you figured that you probably looked like a damn lunatic. “And I inherited some money when my grandmother died so I had the funds to do it."

“I’m sorry about that.” Eddie’s eyes soften considerably and he reaches out to give your hand a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago.” When you pull your hand away a bit too quickly, Eddie frowns briefly, unsure why you don’t seem to want him to touch you. Your hands are clammy and shaking so you hide them underneath the counter instead, out of his reach. “So. Here you are.”

“Here I am,” he grins, having recovered from your rejection. “And you’re in trouble. Never thought I’d be bailing you out.”

“It was usually the other way around,” you laugh.

Whenever Eddie was in trouble, and he got into trouble a lot (Hopper practically had Eddie’s number on speed dial), you’d usually provide him with an alibi, swearing up and down that you’d been with him all night and that he had never left your sight.

“So it’s high time that I repay the favor.”

“Guess so.” You look away from him, his stare too intense. “You’ll have to tell me how this is going to work though, I’m a bit fuzzy on the details.”

“Sure.” He pushes himself away from the counter, somehow sensing that you didn’t know how to act around him. “Glad that it’s you by the way.”

“Me?” It was true that you had always loved this place, it was the closest thing to a second home that you knew, but actually going as far as buying it in an effort to save it? It had been a hasty purchase driven entirely by love. You hadn't even given yourself time to think about it. It hadn't been until you were actually standing in the store all those years ago, as the owner this time, that you had taken the time to think about what the hell you had done. "I can't help but think that I shouldn't have, you know?"

"Don't say that. This old place is kinda instrumental in getting us back together now, right?" A shiver runs down your spine when Eddie says that and you know that he didn't mean it like that, but you can't stop your mind from wandering in that particular direction. "Besides, I'm here now, ain't I? Your savior."

"Fuck, Eddie," you laughed. "Still with the theatrics."

"Some things never change, babe."

"I guess not."

After a short amount of time spent catching up, you closed the store early and went out for lunch with Eddie and Dustin at a local diner. Everyone stared at Eddie from the moment that he walked in.

Several of the older patrons still looked at him like he was a devil worshiper whereas some of the people that had attended high school with him had looks on their faces that hinted at jealousy and something else, too. Belinda, a former cheerleader, even came up to him with one of the biggest plastic smiles that she could produce and told him how glad she was to see him.

As soon as she left, after realizing that Eddie wasn’t going to give her any attention, the three of you sniggered and talked about how Belinda had never even looked twice at Eddie when he was still in school.

Now that he had made it big, Eddie was suddenly a lot more interesting.

“Fuck, that was so weird,” he says when you head back to the store. It was just the two of you now, because Dustin had already made plans with Suzie. “I think that she was putting the moves on me, too.”

“You think?” You nudge his side with your fist. “She looked ready to drop down to her knees and suck you off in front of everyone.”

“Ew.” Eddie shoves your shoulder and you laugh in reply. “I don’t even want to think- that’s fucking gross, man.”

“Doesn’t that kind of thing happen to you all the time?”

“Sometimes,” he says with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean that I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Starfuckers,” you counter as you hold open the door that leads to your apartment above the store. “All looking to become the next Mrs Munson.”

Eddie chuckles at that and you want to laugh along with him, but you could feel a sense of dread begin to form in the pit of your stomach.

You didn’t know why you thought this, but maybe he turned down Belinda Foster, former head cheerleader and current very unhappy housewife, because he had a girl waiting for him back home. It was a very distinct possibility at least.

“I wouldn’t have made fucking Belinda my wife even if I had stayed here,” he sneers when you reached the top of the stairs. “She’s the one that gave me that damn 'Freak' nickname.”

“No way,” you reply and you watch Eddie nod to confirm it. “She started that shit?”

“She did! She was a massive bitch.” Eddie tried to open the door at the top of the steps, but it wouldn’t budge. “Locked.”

“Oh shit. Wait.”

You took the remaining steps until you were standing next to him. The hallway was narrow and you were suddenly very much aware of how close Eddie was. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him as you fiddled with the lock.

“There,” you say and when you looked back up at him, you were looking straight into his warm brown eyes. “Open.”

“Hmm?” Eddie didn’t appear to have heard you, his eyes were on your lips the entire time. “What?”

“Open,” you cleared your throat and pushed the door open suddenly. “The door. It’s open.”

“Oh," he shook his head then, the spell broken. "Okay.”

With a gesture from your arm, very much copying the same kind of gestures he'd make all the time at girls back in high school, Eddie stepped into your place. You leaned against the cool wall for a moment to gather yourself before you followed him inside.

You had already been nervous, but your nerve levels had reached epic proportions now that Eddie was standing in your shitty living room with the old carpet flooring and looking at what was on your walls and what was on the shelves.

He had come to a standstill in front of a collection of picture frames and eventually plucked one from the shelf and held it up to you. “What the hell happened to these kids, huh?”

You didn’t have to look at it more closely to know exactly which picture it was.

Eddie was smiling in it, his signature grin on his lips, and you were sticking your tongue out at whoever had been taking the picture. The two of you must have been around sixteen. Both dressed entirely in black, you wearing a Joy Division shirt and him in an Iron Maiden shirt.

You were at some gig, you couldn’t remember who had been playing anymore, but you did remember how Eddie had wrapped his arms around you that night, his chin resting on your shoulder, to sing along with some cover that the band had played.

“God only knows,” you counter. “Bet they never saw any of this coming.”

That was only half true. Back then, Eddie had the same aspirations that he had since made a reality, to make it big with the band. Your dreams were a little bit more basic, but Eddie was involved in every single one of them.

God, you were such a sap.

“Cute.” Eddie had a different picture in his hand now and since you couldn’t see which one it was, you decided to join him. When you were close enough, he held it up for you to see. “I took this one, right?”

It was an old Polaroid. It was taken during another one of Hawkins’ hot summers. You were wearing a crop top and laying in the grass, a pair of Eddie’s sunglasses obscuring your eyes, your cheeks flushed from the heat with a big smile on your face.

It was probably one of the few pictures where you had a genuine smile, teeth on display and all, which was all down to the guy on the other end of the camera.

“Yeah,” you reach out to take it from him and smile at the memories that come flooding back in. “You gave it to me.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

The look in his eyes is softer than you expected it to be and there was something unreadable in there, too. You fumbled with the picture frame and would have dropped it if it hadn’t been for Eddie.

His large hands enclose yours and help you hold the frame more steadily. He opens his mouth, about to speak, when you suddenly tear your hands from his grip and put the frame back down where it belonged.

“Thanks,” you mumble quickly. “Butterfingers.”

You backed away from him slowly, saying something about needing to find the papers of the store. Eddie watches you open a drawer and pull out a couple of folders that were filled with paperwork before taking it to the dining table, which looked more like a dumping ground for various things, and going through them. You’re hunched over the table, every muscle in your body pulled taut as a bowstring from the nerves.

You never used to be this nervous around him, but then again, things had changed. It hadn’t exactly ended well, something that he still regrets and he hopes that he’ll be able to explain it at one point during his stay.

"Who's Chase by the way?"

Eddie had been curious about the guy ever since he had first spoken to you on the phone. He doesn’t miss how your shoulders stiffen at the mere mention of the name and how you release the breath that you’d been holding moments later.

"My ex husband," you reply in a deadpan voice.

"You were married?!”

"As I seem to recall, you’d gotten married, too. My marriage didn't get a mention in the gossip rags though.” It had been fairly big news at the time. Metal guitarist marries a squeaky clean actress. That wasn’t the actual headline of course, just what it had turned into in your head. They had been a very unlikely couple after all. “Mine lasted longer as well."

"Fuck you.” He laughs at his own stupidity. “It was a mistake, alright? I barely knew her. Hope that you knew your guy though."

You look over your shoulder at him. "You know him, too."

"The name doesn't ring a bell."

"Chase Wright?” you ask, but Eddie’s expression doesn’t change. “He was a center on the basketball team?"

"What?” He definitely recognizes the name now. “You married that douche?!"

"Eh," you shrug. "He was cute."

"You hated his guts," he counters with a sneer, still remembering how Chase used to treat others in school.

"People are allowed to change their minds, Eddie." You can’t keep the anger out of your voice, but the anger is mainly aimed at yourself, not at him. “People change.”

"Okay, fair enough." He held his hands up, signaling defeat. "I take it that he's not around anymore."

"Nope. Kicked him out when I caught him fucking a girl that used to work here.” You slam one folder down on the table to get some of the anger out of your system. “In our bed."

"Ouch."

"Ah well. He can go fuck himself,” you say dismissively. You didn’t want to waste any more time thinking about Chase. “Good riddance.”

“You never needed a guy anyway.”

“Huh?” You frown when Eddie says that and while you’re fairly certain that he meant it as a compliment, you’re still left confused by the remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were always pretty independent and took shit from no one.” Eddie looks and sounds impressed as he recalls the person that you once used to be. Keywords being 'used to be'. “You were cool.”

“Things were different back then,” you say as you move onto the next folder with papers. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself cool now.”

“I would,” Eddie laughs.

“Shut up.” You laugh along with him and shake your head. “You’re way cooler. You made it, dude. Living the dream and all that bullshit.”

“Not entirely,” he says under his breath as his eyes scan the pictures again, especially the one of you sprawled out on the lawn of his uncle’s old trailer. “Got obligations now. Records to sell, gigs to play… it’s not all fun and games.”

“Yeah well, at least you don’t have to keep this place afloat.”

“I will if you find those papers.”

“Touché.”

“Why’d you really buy this place?” Eddie sees you freeze and can hear the piece of paper that you’re holding shake in your hand. “It couldn't have been doing much better before you took over.”

“Not really,” you say quietly. “I just couldn’t-” He hears you make a little triumphant noise then and sees you reach for the next piece of paper and hold it up. “Found it.”

It takes you a few seconds before you’re standing next to him again, handing him the deed that you’d just found. “This is what you need, right?”

Eddie looks at it and then back up at you again. Whatever you had been about to tell him, it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to get the answers that he sought right now.

“Yeah,” he eventually replies. “This is what I need.”

Maybe later.

Eddie called the guy that handled finances for him (he actually had a guy for that) and set things in motion on his end.

It should take a couple of days, but at the end of it Eddie would be the new owner of Hawkins Records and the future of the store would be secure.

Crazy when you thought about it.

It hadn’t been talked about in so many words yet, but you assumed that he would be fine with you staying on to run things and that you’d report to him every once in a while? You had no idea what Eddie wanted, but you knew for certain that he wouldn’t stay and run the store himself.

You celebrated your future joint venture with pizza, cheap beer and music. Owning a record store meant that you had plenty of albums to choose from and you swore that Eddie was like a kid in a candy store. You were more than okay with him picking the music and he had dug several gems out of your collection already.

While Motörhead’s Iron Fist is on the record player, an album that Eddie played so much that he ended up ruining the record when he was a teenager, talk turns to his love life when Sex & Outrage plays.

It was a song about groupies, which is something that Eddie thankfully does not discuss. You didn’t want to know how many girls came up to their tour bus in the hopes of getting lucky with one of the band members and you weren’t going to ask him about it either.

“You have no idea,” he says while you grab two new bottles of beer from the fridge. “It’s insane. I could barely get anyone to look twice at me in high school and now I can’t go anywhere without having girls write their phone numbers on whatever they can find and slipping them to me.” He takes a bottle of beer from your hand and pops the cap with his lighter. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say with a shrug. He trades his opened bottle for your closed one. “Must be tough, huh? All those models that want to fuck you all the time?”

“For the record, there’s only been one model and she was fucking exhausting.”

“I bet.” When he takes a sip from his beer, you see his nose crinkle, something that you mistake for disgust. “Sorry that it’s not the more expensive stuff, but we don’t really get imports here.”

“Honey, I like Miller. I’m not exactly a fan of that overpriced crap anyway.”

“Huh.” You took a swig of your own bottle and sat down on the lazy chair next to the couch that Eddie was sitting on. “So you’d rather spend your money on keeping a failing record store in business than treating yourself to the finer things in life?”

You reach forward to grab a packet of cigarettes and a lighter off the coffee table so you didn’t see how Eddie’s eyes focused on the collar of your tank top. You had not realized that you had flashed him a more than generous amount of cleavage.

“Like coke and hookers?”

“Call girls,” you correct him right before you lit your cigarette. “Hookers sounds too cheap.”

“And I don’t do cheap?”

“Seeing how you made it enough to buy your way out of Hawkins, why would you?” If you'd been in the same position, you'd be living it up, you knew that much at least.

“I’m still the same guy that I was back then.”

“Only with more money this time round." Corroded Coffin had come back from a very successful world tour only two months ago and there was plenty of talk of them working on a new album so it's not like they were doing badly. "And drowning in pussy, too, I reckon.”

“Pfffff. You keep bringing that up." He put his hands on the back of his head, leaned back and looked at you with raised eyebrows, like he was taking a bit too much satisfaction out of the fact that you seemed to be very much preoccupied with the state of his sex life. "Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of anyone that gets laid regularly," you elaborate. "Not like there are a lot of options round here for an alternative chick that runs a record store.”

The only guy in town who would have potentially been up for a hookup had been Steve Harrington, but a former cheerleader had managed to change Steve's womanizing ways. There was even talk of him buying her a ring to make it official, but who knew if that was actually true.

“There’s someone for everyone," Eddie declares and you're somewhat surprised that he even buys into that shit.

“I got burned one too many times," you counter. "I ain’t looking anymore.”

There’s a silence between you two after that statement. It came out sounding too harsh, too bitter, your words a little bit too scathing.

It was a barefaced lie, too, and you knew it, but the only guy that you ever truly wanted wasn’t exactly available to you. It didn’t matter that he was here right now, because he’d only leave eventually.

They all did.

“We made out once,” Eddie says quietly as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Long time ago.”

“Jesus!” you exclaim. “I can’t believe that you remember that.” Pretending that you barely remembered was the best course of action here. You weren’t going to admit to the fact that you still thought about that night regularly and how you regretted that everything had eventually slipped away from you. “I was high as a fucking kite.”

“And drunk.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you were taking advantage of me?”

“You think I needed to?" Seeing how the two of you went way back, it wasn't that hard for Eddie to see straight through your lies. "Fuck, you were throwing yourself at me before you’d even drank one beer.”

“I was not,” you say indignantly. “Besides, I seem to recall that you kept trying to look down my shirt that evening.”

“Was not!“

“You’re such a bad liar, Munson. Always have been.” You lean forward and try to kick his shin, but he pulls away just in time. “My tits were the first thing that you went for when we started making out.”

“Can you blame me?” He gestures at your rack. “Your tits were fucking amazing.”

“Still are,” you say under your breath, thinking that he hadn’t heard you and completely missing how his eyes drift down as soon as you had said it. “You were groping them as if you had no idea what to do with them.”

“Yeah, well, it was my first time feeling someone up, alright?" He flexes his fingers then, as if he was trying to remember exactly how they felt in his hands and you're briefly mesmerized by the seemingly simple gesture. "And I’d been obsessed with your rack for ages.”

“Really?”

“Fuck yeah, couldn’t get them out of my head.”

That one hookup had never really gone anywhere, though.

You had been teenagers, horny teenagers.

There had been tension between you for ages, that’s what you had thought anyway, and Eddie had been ogling you so blatantly that night, too. His eyes were drifting down whenever he thought that you hadn’t been looking and shooting up to your face whenever he thought that you noticed.

In the end, you had made the first move after a couple of beers and one shared joint. The kiss had been impulsive and while it had taken Eddie’s brain a couple of seconds to catch up to what was happening, he had matched your fervor when he kissed you back and pulled you into his lap.

It was just one night of kissing, groping and grinding on each other. A few hours full of breathless giggles, foreheads pressed together, shared breaths, you gasping into his mouth when he pulled you harder against him, his pupils dilated so far that you could barely see the brown of his irises anymore.

How it hadn’t ended with you in his bed was anybody’s guess, but it hadn’t. You vaguely remember the promises of wanting to do it right, wining and dining you properly, instead of fucking you in the back of his van.

Sadly, it had never gotten the chance to evolve into something more.

When the two of you had seen each other again on Monday, it was like nothing had happened at all.

Eddie had blushed furiously at first, but he had recollected himself fairly quickly, slammed his hand in between your shoulder blades and asked you if you had finished your homework, something that he had never taken much interest in before.

“You acted like it had never happened.”

“I was nervous, alright?” he admits. “I spent most of that Sunday jerking off whilst thinking of you on top of me so I kinda freaked out when I saw you again.”

“I tried to kiss you again the next weekend and you turned your head away.”

It was something that you had never forgotten. Despite the fact that he had acted off with you all week, you had still tried to repeat it the following weekend.

Eddie had not let you however. He turned his head away when you leaned in, your lips connecting with his cheek instead, and then he had excused himself.

It was the lowest that you had ever felt in your entire life. After sitting in stunned silence for a short while, you had headed back home and cried yourself to sleep that same night, because you’d been crushing on Eddie hard for ages and then he just… rejected you.

The Saturday night before you had been soaring high above the clouds and the Saturday night after, you crash landed back to Earth.

“I’m sorry, alright, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

“I’ll say! We barely talked for the rest of the year!” you exclaim, still hurting over something that had happened a lifetime ago. “And then I graduated, went to college and we never spoke again. By the time I came back, you were long gone.”

“And I still regret that every single fucking day!”

That little outburst silences you for a bit. You got the sense that Eddie was as bothered by his own conduct as much as you had been back then. The way that he had responded to it, something that you had perceived as embarrassment that he had even let it happen at all, had ended a friendship of several years after all.

“Dude, why didn’t you ever just tell me?”

This entire conversation was draining you. When he had called you out of the blue two weeks ago to make his offer, you had wondered what he would do when he would find out that you were the one that ran the store now. You had never once counted on the fact that the two of you would have this long overdue conversation.

Part of you hoped that he had forgotten about it entirely, but it appeared to weigh as heavy on his mind as it did on yours.

“Instead you just tried to carry on as usual at first while I had to overhear stories of you hooking up with drunk chicks that came to watch you guys play at The Hideout. I fucking hated you by the end of the school year.”

Things had been tense between you after he had rejected you. Eddie had made an attempt to remain friends by pretending that he hadn’t utterly humiliated you, completely ignoring the fact that he might have needed to apologize. All the while you kept withdrawing from him.

Offers to come hang out or whatever else Eddie thought up were all met with excuses from your end, even using the famous “I need to wash my hair that night” line.

Eventually, he got the picture and left you alone completely.

“I know,” he sighs.

“You broke my heart, Eddie.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” You groan loudly and wipe a hand down your face in frustration. “Fuck, you never should have brought that night up to begin with. Would have been better if it had just remained in the past where it belongs.”

Getting up from the couch, you walked over to the small kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the counter. You opened it and took a drink straight from the bottle, not bothering to put it in a glass. The liquid burned as it went down your throat, momentarily taking your mind off things.

“That was my first kiss, you know.” You couldn’t resist, even if the hurt was clearly audible in your voice, you still wanted him to be aware of what he had done to you. “And you basically fucking ruined it.”

“I never meant to-“

“Well, you did. I felt like shit, Eddie. You were my best friend and then I lost you because of something stupid like that.” You took another gulp from the bottle, one so large that you gasped for breath afterwards. “I think that you should leave. Go ask Dustin if you can crash in his spare bedroom or something and then we can forget that this ever happened.”

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes! Just go back to whatever fucking mansion you live in right now. Sell your records, fuck your groupies… whatever.”

“You really think the worst of me, don’t you?”

“At least you got out of this shithole of a town,” you bit back. “I’m stuck here with all the fucking memories.”

“What memories?” His voice sounded a lot closer now and when you turned your head, you noticed that he was standing a few feet away from you. He closed the distance and leaned against the counter next to you. “Hey. What memories?” he repeated again.

“This place,” you said as you gestured around you, but really meaning the store down below. “And this dumb fucking town with its dumb fucking people that I can’t shake no matter where the hell I go. I got into Columbia for god’s sake! And look at me now! Running a record store in a town that I hate.”

“So it’s nothing but bad memories then?”

“No,” you replied quietly. “Not all bad.”

“So which ones are the good ones?” He slid in a little closer until his arm made contact with yours. “Wanna tell me?”

“No.”

Because he knew. The bastard fucking knew. He knew that all the good memories involved him. He just wanted to hear you say it out loud for once, for you to stop chickening out for once in your life and to tell him how you really felt.

"Why not?"

"Because."

Too embarrassing to admit to for starters, because how are you even supposed to voice something that you've only ever said in your head? Where would you even start?

"That's not an answer."

"It's all you're getting." You try to move away from him, the need to put distance between the two of you was overwhelming because you couldn't trust yourself around him. "It's late."

"Is it? It’s not even eleven yet." He called you out on your bullshit immediately. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulls you back against him. "What are you so scared of, huh?"

"Eddie."

"Come on, just answer the question."

"Don't make me," you say softly. He turned you around until your ass was pressed up against the kitchen drawers. Then he placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, effectively caging you in. His big brown eyes were practically burning a hole through you. "Please don’t make me answer.”

“I’m just curious, is all.”

“Why?”

“Come on.” His smile is warm and inviting, the same one that you remembered, and it was starting to sway you. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. I guess,” you shrug halfheartedly.

“You think that I’ll make fun of you or something?”

“I wish you would.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because maybe then I could forget you,” you blurt out. He looks at you curiously, head tilted to the side as he takes you in. His expressive eyes, which usually gave you so much, are unreadable now. Or maybe you just ignored everything that was swirling around in there, still convinced that nothing would come out of this. “If I ever packed up and left, it would be like closing the door completely. And I don’t want to. I can’t.”

“So it’s my fault that you never left?”

“Yes. Because despite everything, I kept hoping that you’d come back one day and seriously, why would you? Everybody hated you.” Almost everyone in town thought that he was some cult leader when all that the Hellfire Club did was offer a safe space for all the rejects. That combined with the fact that Eddie was always so unapologetically himself was a recipe for disaster in a town like Hawkins. “Why would you want to come back to a town that treated you like shit most of the time?”

“Honey, if I had known that you were here, I would have.”

“You mean it?” He nodded in reply. “Don’t lie to me, Eddie.” It sounded too hard to believe, like something made up just because he wanted to get laid, because that was where this was going, wasn’t it? You could feel the electricity crackle in the air between you from the moment that he set foot inside your apartment. “You really mean it?”

“Yes,” he replies and he looked honest enough, his big brown eyes seemed to hold nothing but the truth in them. He still couldn’t lie for shit. Not to you. “I never stopped carrying a torch for you. Kept hoping that you’d come to a gig one night so we could catch up, pick up where we left off, but you never did.”

“I was scared.” Your voice breaks at the last word and you can feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. “I couldn’t-“

“Shhh,” he put his index finger on your lips to silence you. “You’re here now.”

“That’s ‘cause I live here,” you chuckle weakly. “Can’t leave.”

“Lucky me.”

Eddie’s lips ensured that you wouldn’t be able to reply this time. The kiss was desperate and hungry. Your teeth clashed as you came together, but neither of you cared about the clumsiness of it.

This was something that both of you had been looking to repeat for many years now.

Twelve years to be precise.

And while both of you had matured during the years that you had been apart, you were also still very much the same in a way, as if you’d merely been playing at being grownups for all this time. As if time had somehow stopped ever since you parted, only to start again now that you were together again.

“Eddie,” you moan against his lips when he pushes you up against the counter so hard that he was in danger of hurting you. You'd definitely have some bruises to show for this in the morning, as proof that it really happened. “Is this- are we really doing this?”

“I’ve been thinking of nothing else for years, baby.” His hands cup your face desperately, tilting it further back so he can run his teeth down the column of your throat. As soon as they make contact with your skin, you start to make noises as if you are in heat. “Jesus. Keep doing that.”

“I will if you will,” you breathe back.

“Deal.”

His hands grab your waist and he lifts you up onto the counter. You instantly wrap your thighs around his hips and Eddie starts rutting into you a split second later. Every time his pelvis connects with yours, you could feel him growing harder. Whenever his cock presses into the apex of your thighs, you mewl and your eyes practically roll back into your skull every single time.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you dig your nails in his shoulderblades, no doubt leaving little crescent shaped imprints in his skin. “Want you so bad.” His hands slid under the hemline of your tank top, grabbing two handfuls of your tits within seconds. “I need you.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He pulls on the fabric that was covering your torso, almost tearing it in his eagerness to get it off. “Fuck, baby,” he growls when he got an eyeful of your chest. “You were right. They’re still fucking amazing.”

“You heard me?!”

“What do you think?” He buries his face between them and looks up at you. “Most perfect tits I’ve ever seen.” His tongue slides along the scalloped edge of the lace cups. “And you’re not bad either.”

“Shut up,” you lightly smack the back of his head. “You can always leave if you want to.”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie pulls the cups of your bra down, finally uncovering your tits. “I’ve been dreaming about this for years. I’m not gonna leave now.”

He finally stops talking, finally, and puts his mouth to good use. His lips latch on to one of your nipples and you throw your head back so far that the back of your head slams into the cabinets above the counter.

You swear loudly and Eddie pauses for a second, to look up at you and see if you were alright.

“Fine!” you all but shout. “I’m okay. Keep going.”

“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you want.”

Eddie dives straight back in, lavishing your tits in so much attention that you start grinding your hips against his, practically begging for sweet release.

“Goddammit,” he husks against the shell of your ear after his tongue had licked a stripe all the way up to your neck. “Your tits are perfect, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of ‘em.“

“Oh yeah?“

“Yeah.” He moves down again, licking at the pebbled skin around your painfully hard nub. “I want to paint them with my cum.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Not yet, baby.”

Eddie pulls you against him, off the counter. As soon as your feet touch the ground, you kick your flip flops off and he turns you around so he can press his pelvis against the curve of your ass. You press back when you feel his bulge grinding into you.

“Don’t want to come too fast,” he whispers in your ear as his hands start undoing your jeans. “Want to take my time.” He yanks your jean shorts and underwear down roughly, pulls them over your feet and discards them next to him. “But you’ll get my cum eventually, don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t. Not worried at all-!” The last word turns into a high pitched yelp when his hand connects with your bare ass. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“Fuckin’ love it when you say my name like that, sweetheart.” He slides his hand between your legs and hums appreciatively when he finds out how wet you are. “You’re so wet.”

“Used to get like that all the time around you,” you admit, moaning loudly when his fingers brush against your clit. “You were a fucking idiot for never noticing it before. Was always worried you’d smell me or somethin’.”

“That bad?”

“Couldn’t go near you without soaking through my panties.” Eddie groans straight into your ear and it sends a flood of warmth straight down to your core. “All the fucking time, Eddie. I had it bad. Real bad.”

“Fuck, I-“ His fingers freeze suddenly and you whine while bucking your hips against his hand in an effort to get him to move again. “I wanna make it up to you.”

“H-How?”

“You’ll see.” He takes a step back and leans against the drawers next to you, leaning back far enough so he can see your face. “Think that you’ll like it.”

You watch him, wide eyed, as he lowers himself and sits on the floor, his back resting against the cabinets behind him. He grins widely, as was usual for him, takes your hand and pulls you to the side. You step over his legs until you’re standing astride him and he looks up at you, his grin bordering on feral now that your pussy is at eye level.

“This how you want me?” You run your hands through his short hair lovingly and he leans into your touch for a moment.

“This is exactly how I want you.” His eyes never once left your cunt and he blows hot air on it, the fucking tease, just to see you squirm. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

His hands grab the back of your thighs, right underneath your ass, and bring you in closer. He presses his lips to your mound, lingering there as he looks up at you. You nod once, giving him permission, not sure if he was even asking for it but giving it all the same.

Eddie hooks your right leg over his shoulder and spreads you open even further. You just know that your foot is going to hurt from the way that it’s wedged between the wooden doors and Eddie’s back, but you could care less.

You had been waiting for this moment for so long that you could deal with some slight discomfort afterwards.

When his tongue finally makes contact with your clit, you swear that you just died and went to heaven. The contact is minimal, a light swirl with the tip of his tongue, but it’s enough to make you shudder and make your lungs constrict.

You moan his name when his tongue dips in deeper, sliding between your folds, pressing against your entrance and it’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut so hard that you're seeing stars.

“Stay with me,” he breathes against your sopping folds, the warm air tickling you and making your hips jerk. “Stay with me, princess.”

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you choke out. “I’m not going to last.”

“You’ll have to,” he whispers against you, “Because I’m not gonna stop.”

His tongue works against you like he’s a virtuoso, as if he’d been practicing for this single moment his entire life, hitting you in all the right places with every swipe of his tongue. He played the guitar with the same dexterity, knowing full well that he was good with the instrument, one of the best in fact, and he plays you with the same level of confidence.

A pathetic whine bursts from your lips as he subjects you to this sweet torture, as if you were simply another one of his guitars, adding you to his already extensive repertoire.

You press your hands against the laminate counter hard, your torso bending forward and resting on your forearms, head hanging down as Eddie pulls the most inhuman sounds from your lungs.

The smug bastard smiles against you, enjoying seeing and feeling you come undone by his tongue alone, and then he moans, actually fucking moans, when he pushes his tongue as deep into your pussy as it could go.

It proves to be too much for you. Your entire body tensed up, all your muscles pulled taut, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your climax crests and peaks. It’s so intense it almost tears a hole right through you.

Only Eddie doesn’t stop.

Still caught in the aftershocks of your orgasm, breathing so hard that it feels like your lungs are on fire, your hips buck when you feel something probing your entrance.

You sob loudly, tears already pricking your eyes, as Eddie slides two digits into you - slowly, slowly - until they can go no further. He pulls them out completely and then slips them back in.

“P-please,” you cry out. “I c-can’t take any more.”

“You say that,” his voice sounds leisurely and relaxed, his breathing warm on your overworked cunt. “But your body keeps pulling me back in.” You groan in discomfort, but your body betrays you, your hips twitching and moving back and forth in time with his motions. “See? You want more.”

“Eddie-“

“You can do this,” his free hand connects your ass roughly and he laughs when you let out a loud yelp. “One more time. Indulge me.”

“Oh god.” Your voice wavers when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot and making a sudden jolt course through your body. “I really ca-“ Your voice goes up in pitch when his tongue touches your clit again. “D-don’t… s-st-stop…”

Those two words are enough to make him speed up. His fingers thrust up into you harder and faster and his lips practically attach themselves to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves and flicking at it with his tongue.

Your second climax is a scorcher and you come whilst screaming his name. Your body convulses, wanting to fold in on itself, and you claw at whatever you can simply to keep yourself standing upright when you feel your knee buckle underneath you.

Eddie unhooks your right leg from his shoulder and you can feel the muscles in it scream from soreness. You can feel a trickle of fluid flow down your thigh as his hands settle on your hips and he pulls you down onto his lap.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean into his chest and Eddie’s hands rub up and down your back gently as you come down from your high.

“You okay?” he finally asks when your breathing has normalized. He listens to you take in a shaky breath before you even say anything and he worries that he may have pushed you too far. “Talk to me.”

“It’s so unfair,” you mumble into his chest.

“Unfair?” Surprise is clearly audible in his voice, but you’re unwilling to move from your very comfortable current position. “What’s unfair?”

“I’m practically naked and you’re still fully dressed.” It makes him burst into laughter and even when he stops, his belly still shakes when he tries to contain himself. “Not funny,” you pout, even though you’re amused yourself.

Sitting back on his thighs, you pull on the collar of his shirt. Eddie hooks a finger underneath the strap of your bra, the only item of clothing that you’re still wearing even if it’s all askew, pulls it back until it snaps against your skin.

“You’re still wearing this.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause it covers up so much.” You roll your eyes, reach around the back to unhook your bra and take it off. “Doesn’t change anything about the fact that you’re not naked.”

“Hmm.” He leans forward a little, his lips ghosting over yours as he grabs the hemline of his shirt, pulls it over his head and tosses it as far as he can. “This better?”

“A little,” you pout, trying to sound disappointed, but who could ever be disappointed when looking at Eddie’s inked chest? It was an amazing sight after all. “You got a lot more since I last saw you.”

“I was eighteen when you last saw me.” Your finger traces the demon head on his chest that you recognize, which has faded a bit over time. “Remember that one?”

“I was with you when you got it, so yeah, I do.” You bring both hands up to his chest, tracing all the new designs that he’s gotten since then, more intricate and colorful. “Do you even have any skin left for more?”

“Well, I have a couple of places…” He trails off, his cheeks coloring and a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “But the most important one is still empty.”

“Oh?” Your eyes go over the parts of his skin that you can see, but there’s barely any space left. “Where?”

Eddie takes your right hand, brings it up to his chest and places it right over where his heart is. “Right there.”

You move your hand away and sure enough, there’s an empty spot that you missed. It’s just about big enough for a name.

“That’s an important one indeed,” you muse as your fingers move back and forth over it. “Any thoughts on what you want there?”

The question was rhetoric, because it was painstakingly obvious what he had reserved that empty spot for.

“A name,” he replies. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” you grin. “You never know.”

Even though he had been married and had probably been with loads of women, it was still empty. So maybe that meant-

You shook your head. No way. There’s just no way.

“What’s up?” His voice is so low that it makes you shiver involuntarily.

He obviously wants to know what you’re thinking, but this is something that you can’t voice out loud, not yet, so you need to find a way to distract him somehow.

The easiest way to do that was to…

“Fuck,” Eddie groans when you grind your hips against his. You do it slowly, getting the maximum amount of friction out of it, and your breathing hitches when you angle your hips just right. “Distracting me?”

He knows what you’re doing, of course he does, but the way that he’s smiling tells you that he doesn’t mind.

“Wanna suck your dick, Ed,” you tell him. “Need to wrap my lips around it.” He swears under his breath and you look at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip teasingly. “You gonna let me? You gonna put it in my mouth and fuck my face?”

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “You can't just- fuck. Can’t believe you just fucking said that.”

“Eddie,” you moan, really going in for the kill now. “I want to take all of it. Every. Inch.” You enunciate the last words clearly, emphasizing every syllable, your smile growing when you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I want you to make me choke on it. You wanna see the tears stream down my face, don't you? From barely being able to fit all of you into my mouth?”

He grabs the back of your neck, pulls you close and slams his lips down on yours. He kisses you so hard that you forget to breathe and when he pulls away, he’s breathing just as hard as you are.

“When did you get so fucking filthy?”

“You don’t know half of it,” you wink. “What about it then? You want to see me on my knees with your cock in my mouth?”

Twisting your head to the side, you can feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he says, “You’re such a dirty little slut.”

His words send a fresh flood of warmth down to your cunt and all that you can reply is, “Uh-huh.”

“On your knees.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You’re off his lap in a flash and on your knees, ready and waiting for him. Eddie gets to his feet and his hands settle on his belt, but you brush them away quickly.

“Allow me.”

There was an overwhelming need to work fast, to unbuckle his belt quickly, yank his trousers down to his knees and stick his cock in your mouth, but it was way more fun to tease him.

Just a little.

Taking his shoes off is what you start with. You quite possibly draw it out a little bit too much, grasping the metal slider of the zippers, pulling them down tooth by tooth, holding onto his black boots as he steps out of them and then putting them side by side next to you.

Starting at his ankles, your hands skim up his jeans slowly, on the outside of his legs until you reach the top. You could have repeated that a couple of times, but decided not to.

That was more down to your own impatience rather than the temptation of pushing the boundaries, because there was nothing but amusement in Eddie’s eyes over your ability to even drag it out this long.

You undo his belt, taking care not to make your fingers brush over his crotch, where he was quite obviously straining away against the fabric in a way that was already making your mouth water. You were so ridiculously careful when you opened his zip too, fingers barely touching, your hands shaking like you were unwrapping the best present that anyone had ever given you.

Which is what he kinda was in a way.

His hand touches the top of your head, so tender that it makes you want to fucking cry, like you’re that same dumb teenager again that just wanted him to notice you and wanted him to pick you so desperately that you were blind to the fact that you’d had him all along.

You can’t even look up, too afraid to see the look in his eyes right now, so you grab at the fabric just above his knees and drag it down his legs. And you can’t even look at his boxer briefs, only catching a flash of the black item of clothing from the corner of your eye, but not focusing on it.

Not yet.

There ought to be something that you should be saying, but your tongue feels thick and your mouth dry as you keep pulling his jeans down, exposing his legs inch by inch until you pull it down his feet and leave it lying there.

When you finally hazard a glance up, Eddie’s expression is gentle, whatever bravado he always put on display was sorely lacking now. His eyes are unbearably soft instead, simply looking at the girl that he once knew, sitting on her knees in front of him and who seemed morbidly afraid to make a move.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s just me.”

As if he had to remind you of that.

But it was also exactly what you needed to hear right now and you lean forward, pressing your lips on his thigh softly, lingering there for a moment, before your hands move up to pull his boxers down.

When his cock finally pops free, proudly standing at attention, hard as a fucking rock, you almost gasp. Almost. You manage to restrain yourself, but he can see it written all over your face. The surprise and yes, the hunger, is all there in your pupils and in the little smile that materializes on your lips.

“Holy shit, Ed,” you whisper, impressed. “I’m definitely going to choke on that.”

“I’m counting on it,” he moans when you wrap your fingers around the base. You move your hand up once, just to feel the velvety shaft against your palm. “You just gonna keep looking at it?”

“Maybe,” you counter with a grin. You lick a stripe up his cock and he hisses through his teeth the second that your tongue makes contact with him. “Will that do?” Eddie raises his eyebrows as he looks down at you, head tilted to the side as if to say ‘are you serious?’ without saying anything at all. You try not to laugh and ask, “No?”

There’s a bead of precum glistening on the tip and you squeeze the base as you lean in closer. Your tongue darts out from between your lips to lick it away. The amount of contact he got out of this was minimal, so his hips press forward, chasing your mouth as you pull back.

“So impatient,” you chide. “That’s your problem. No self control.”

“You started drooling the second you pulled my pants down,” he answers. Unsurprisingly, he has called you out on your bullshit yet again. “Don’t deny it.”

“I’m not,” you reply as your fist gives a lazy stroke upwards. “Pretty damn hard not to considering what you’ve got packed away in your pants.”

With your hand still on his shaft, you keep moving it up and down slowly while also angling his cock out of the way. Eddie notices and was getting ready to ask what you were doing, his mouth already open, when you suddenly move in closer to take one of his balls in your mouth instead.

A low guttural moan bursts from his lips as your tongue moves in circles around the sac and your hand tugs on his cock at the same speed. When he swears under his breath, you start humming contentedly and he reaches down to grasp the back of your head, his fingers spread out, his thumb rubbing circles right behind your ear.

You move on to his other testicle, wanting to give the same amount of attention to both. His digits keep flexing, his fingernails scratching your scalp lightly, a gentle reminder that he could shove you down onto his length whenever he pleases and was merely holding himself back. You pull your head away slowly, tugging gently on his sac with your lips until you release him suddenly.

“Fuck,” he husks out, his voice low and hoarse. “That was insane.”

“You liked that, baby?”

“Thought it was obvious.” He runs a hand through his short hair. The errant curly lock of hair gets brushed back but it pops straight back out again a split second later.

“It was,” you grin. “But I still want to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” His voice is too level, too composed, so you lick up the line between his balls just to feel his cock twitch in your grip and he chokes out the next words. “Ye-yes, I did.”

“Good.”

Your eyes focus on his cock again, especially on the ruddy head this time. You lick your lips and you can’t stop yourself from smiling this time when Eddie whines above you. Your lips make contact with the tip so softly that he barely must have felt it at all, so you do it again, making sure that he feels your kiss this time.

“Still okay?” Your eyes are impossibly wide as you look up at him and Eddie’s pupils are so large that there’s barely any brown of his irises left. “Hm?”

“Great,” he chokes out and his voice goes up in pitch when you kiss his dick again, just below the tip. “Keep doing that.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

How long you even manage to keep this up, you don’t know, but you don’t think that there’s a part of Eddie’s cock that you neglected. You’ve kissed your way up and down his shaft at least twice, sometimes using your tongue as well, and since Eddie never once asks or begs you to take him into your mouth already, you don’t.

It ends up being a natural transition.

You let your tongue circle his tip and Eddie can’t help himself as his hips press forward so you suck it into your mouth, just a couple of inches, nothing more before releasing him with a wet pop.

Eddie laughs breathlessly and swears under his breath. You can see that the fingers of one of his hands have curled around the counter. He’s gripping it so hard that his knuckles have turned white.

“Poor boy,” you say to get his attention, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Want me to put you out of your misery?”

Despite swearing once or twice throughout his ‘ordeal’, Eddie had been unusually silent. He blinks, focuses on you, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Please,” is all that he manages to reply.

You manage to flash him one wicked grin before licking your palm and wrapping your fingers around his shaft once more. Then, without warning, you take him into your mouth and start sucking eagerly.

That seems to make Eddie’s tongue work again.

“Oh fuck,” he groans. “Fuck. Your fucking mouth. Jesus.” His vocabulary is limited and you can’t help but smile around him. “Don’t-don’t you fucking laugh at me.”

If your mouth hadn’t been full, you would have given him a smart ass reply, and the thought to do just that crosses your mind, but you ultimately decide against it. You had tortured the poor guy enough as it was, drawing it out any longer might unleash the beast.

A tempting thought indeed, but maybe later. Tomorrow morning perhaps?

Retaliation soon follows however. Eddie pushes his hips forward, forcing his length further into your mouth, and when he hits the back of your throat, you gag around him.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” He sounds so desperate that you can feel a fresh flood of warmth pulsing from your cunt. “You promised, sweetheart,” he grunts out. “You fucking promised.”

And he was right. You did.

You explicitly told him that you wanted to choke on his dick, that you wanted him to make you cry and that he could fuck your face.

So far, you hadn’t exactly held up to your side of the bargain. But you would. You fucking would. You’d do anything for the guy and what was a little bit of momentary discomfort if it got him off? He could use you as a sex toy for all you cared, you would be anything that he needed.

When you released him, he let out a long groan of disappointment, convinced that you were teasing yet again and just when he thought that you were done doing that, too. It disappears just as quickly when he sees you spread your thighs a little bit wider, hands settled on your knees, in an attempt to get a bit more comfortable.

“You’re right,” you purr at him. “I did promise.”

Eddie swears that he must have ascended to a higher plain when you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, presenting yourself to him, waiting for him.

He’s seen it before of course, similar poses from faceless girls who’d come to him after gigs, crooning in his ear about how amazing he was. Their hands everywhere on the way back to the tour bus, hotel, alleyway, wherever, but they’d all end up on their knees, whining shit about how badly they wanted him and his cum.

It all hits a little bit different when it’s a girl that he’s wanted ever since he hit puberty. The girl that he watched get more beautiful with every passing day until he finally realized that, fuck, he was in love with you, making his peace with how it could never possibly be reciprocated, ignoring all the times that you’d bat your lashes at him, because no way, there was just no fucking way.

No. Never.

And then fucking panicking when it finally happened like a goddamn loser.

Thank fuck for this day.

“You’re serious?” He almost chokes on the words and it definitely doesn’t help when you nod, batting your lashes and looking at him as if he’s the only guy on the planet. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

It barely registers with him that his hand reaches down on instinct, knowing what to do now that his brain is close to short circuiting, moving on autopilot, settling on the back of your head. You whine the second that his fingers make contact, actually fucking whine, and he’s not sure if he can handle this for much longer.

“Keep sitting there, okay.” Despite the fact that you’d already made it clear that you would do just that, he still feels the need to tell you. “Tap my leg if it gets uncomfortable.” One of your hands releases your knee and grips his calf. “Good girl.”

He taps the tip of his cock against your tongue one, two, three times, before he slides inside. It’s purely exploratory at first, just to check if you’d stay in your position, to see if you won’t pull away at the first sign of discomfort when he hits the back of your throat.

Your eyes well up when he keeps his cock there, pressed as deeply inside that warm, wet cavern of your mouth as was possible for a few seconds and when he finally pulls out, you gasp.

“Good girl,” he repeats. “Good fucking girl.” He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he pushes back in. “Relax for me.”

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you relax your throat and he drives himself in deeper than before. When you blink, you can feel the tears start to leak out and slide down your cheeks.

Just as you promised.

“Fuck.” All his feelings of attempting to take it slow for your sake are replaced by this deep animalistic need to climax. He grabs your face, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he starts fucking your face in earnest. “Fuck. S-sorry, but- Fuck.”

The sounds that you make, your moans coming out all garbled from having your mouth full, only spur him on. Saliva pools in your mouth, covering his shaft and easing his passage. Every time that he thrusts in, it drips out of the corners of your mouth. Drool soaks your chin, running down the column of your throat which is currently being used for all it’s worth.

You feel his cock jump suddenly and then the first spurt of cum hits the back of your tongue. You swallow it all down obediently, his little words of praise mixed in with his moans working for you in ways that you never thought possible.

There’s almost a sense of disappointment when his hands release you and your mouth feels incredibly empty when he pulls his softening cock out. You rub your jaw, feeling as if you might have dislocated it just to fit all of him inside.

“I think that you sucked my soul out through my dick,” he pants as he sinks down onto the floor. “Shit.”

“My-“ You start talking, but your voice has been reduced to nothing more than a hoarse squeak. The second you hear it, you laugh breathlessly. “My throat is sore.”

“You don’t say,” Eddie replies and then you both laugh. You’re not able to keep it up for long, your throat still sore as it was, and he leans forward to put his finger on your lips. “Wait.”

Pushing his legs under himself, still wobbly, he turns to the counter and grabs the almost entirely forgotten bottle of whisky and hands it to you. You take a sip, coughing when you swallow, but feeling it soothes you a little as well.

“Better?” You nod and hand the bottle back to him. He takes a swig from it as well and sloshes the remaining liquid from side to side. There isn't a lot left so he holds up the bottle and asks, “Finish it with me?”

“Sure.” You settle down on the floor next to him, the vinyl underneath you a little stickier on your bare skin than you would like it to be. You nudge your shoulder into his and say, “You just asked me that because you can’t get up, huh?”

“Shut up.” He pushes back with a laugh. “Maybe if you didn’t give such killer head-“

“You wanted me to do worse?” You take the bottle from his hands and take another swig. “Because, you know, I could try to do badly next time and give you the sloppiest blowjob ever.”

“You’ll fucking kill me if you do that again.” Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you closer against him. When you start to laugh, he says, “I mean it.”

“Oh, come on. No other girl has given you a good blowjob before?” You hazard a glance in his direction, but his gaze is so intense that you look away after a few seconds. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Maybe it’s more down to the girl doing it,” he shrugs. “Yeah. That’s probably it.”

“Big softie,” you reply with a chuckle. “Mister Big Rockstar has a heart after all.”

“Haven’t had possession of it for years,” he counters. “You stole it from me when I was a teenager after all.”

The giggle that escapes your lips makes you clamp a hand over your mouth. It was a full-on teenager with a crush type of laugh, giggling unnecessarily loud over something that the object of her affections had just said and it embarrassed the ever loving crap out of you.

You clear your throat, which is feeling a lot better now, and when you look at him, Eddie’s lips are pressed into a thin line as he tries to not burst out laughing over having elicited such a response from you.

“You want it back?” You sound a little bit angrier than you had intended and that does make him snort. “Fuck’s sake,” you huff without any real conviction. “Why can’t I ever be normal around you?”

“Because I like you this way,” he counters with a chuckle. Eddie turns his head, kisses your temple and then whispers in your ear, “And keep it. It’s always been yours anyway.”

“Lord,” you groan. “That’s so- fuck.”

You want to say that it’s awful or sentimental, cliché even, but you can’t help the way that your heart soars upon hearing his words. It literally feels like your heart has exited your body and is flying up over your head in little circles.

Your stomach is suddenly filled with millions of tiny little butterflies and they’re doing loop-the-loops inside you, running amok through your insides and threatening to burst out like less scary versions of alien chestbursters.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eddie says with that infuriating grin. “I’m supposed to play it cool, right? Take it slow for a while first before ultimately dragging you on stage during a show and declaring my undying love for you as I reveal to a stunned crowd that you inspired dozens of songs?”

“No,” you snort. “That kind of shit is not for me.” But he would know that, hence why he even said it in the first place. “I don’t want grand, sweeping gestures. I just want you.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Just like you apparently.” You squeal when he pinches your side. “Hey. Stop that.”

“Nope,” he replies as he does it again. “I’m never gonna stop doing that.”

“Guess I just have to-“ You pull away and lean forward, scrambling away from him on your hands and knees. Eddie manages to give you one well aimed smack on your ass before you get to your feet. “Not nice,” you say to him as you rub a hand over where he hit you, on the apple of your ass cheek.

“Thought you liked me that way.” Eddie leans his head back against the cabinet, his eyes sweeping over the naked expanse of your body first. He catches the tilt of your head, your eyes questioning. “What’s up?”

“…Did I?” Your sentence is half formed, the rest of it in your mind ever since a particular something had been said earlier, and his confused look makes you realize that you hadn’t exactly been clear. “I mean, did I inspire some songs?”

“Now that would be telling,” is his ambiguous answer.

“You’re a damn tease,” you tell him. “Anyway, I’m going to bed. You joining me?”

“I might,” he counters infuriatingly.

“Suit yourself.” You sway your hips exaggeratedly as you walk away and call over your shoulder at him, “You decide what you want to do, sleep on the cold floor alone or fall asleep while holding my warm body.”

When you reach the bedroom, you sit down on the edge of the bed, thighs open and pointed at the door and counting on your fingers. You manage to count to eight when Eddie finally appears. He stands in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the frame and taking you in.

His tongue moistens his lips and then he steps forward to take his place next to you in the bed. Your eyes fall on his half hard cock and you catch his smirk right before he starts kissing your neck.

There’s something on your mind that you need to address first however.

"Hey, can I ask you something first?" Eddie pulls back, your change in tone catching him off guard. "D-don't worry. Nothing bad or anything. I was just wondering."

"Think I know," he replies with a sigh. "You want to know why I never let it go any further back in high school."

"Yeah," you reply. "I never got it and you never talked to me about it either. I always thought that it was…” It was remarkable how all your teenage insecurities from back then just came flooding back and you can’t even look at him when you finish your sentence, “Thought that you didn't like me as much as I hoped… or that I wasn’t good enough… for you."

"Ah, Jesus." You feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers brushing up and down, but he doesn’t make you look at him. "No, that wasn't it at all."

"Then what?” You really wanted to know, you deserved to know. “I spent years agonizing over this."

"You probably don't even remember," he starts to say as he reaches out to take your hand in his and lace his fingers through yours. "We got the grades for some test back that week and I’d failed, as usual, and you had aced it. I already knew that I wasn't going to graduate that year and I figured that I'd only hold you back."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"That's how I felt though. You had this big dream of going to Columbia and I had nothing since I knew that I’d be stuck in Hawkins for another year,” he sighs, sounding a little embarrassed. “I was worried that you wouldn't go and yeah, it was really fucking stupid of me, but I did it for you."

"You shouldn't have decided that all on your own.” If only he had talked to you about it, things could have at least ended amicably, not with your heart shattered to pieces all over the floor. “God, you're such a jackass."

“I know. I realize that now. That’s why I was so glad that you were here, that I found you again.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of it and letting his lips linger there as he continues. “It felt like I got a chance for a do-over, like I was getting a second chance to make things right.”

“I thought that you’d only be disappointed, that you’d just walk out on me again.” A very small part of you still thought that all of this was some elaborate joke. Even if you knew that Eddie would never do that, it was a hard feeling to shake. “I kinda… can’t stop myself from thinking that, even now,” you admit with a shuddering breath.

“I’d never do that,” he gives you a quick kiss. “Never,” he repeats while staring deep into your eyes, so you can see how honest he’s being. “You honestly have no idea how much that dumb decision weighed on me over the years, how much I regretted letting the girl that I loved more than anything slip through my fingers.”

You pull your hand away from him suddenly and for a second there he thinks that that’s it, you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why was he even that big of an asshole? How could he ever have treated you like that? He was such a fucking-

His train of thought stops completely when you straddle his thighs from out of nowhere and you tap his forearms, mouthing the word “up” at him.

Eddie doesn’t even question it, lifts his arms instantly and lets you maneuver them the way you wanted, palms held up to you and you press your much smaller palms against his, lace your fingers through his and squeeze.

“There,” you say with some finality in your voice. “Can’t slip away if I do this, huh?”

The smile that you flash at him almost makes him choke and well up with tears, but then the look in your eyes makes him want to laugh until he cries because he can see what you want to say written all over your face.

Mister Big Rockstar. Such a fucking pussy. Practically in tears because we’re holding hands.

But that’s only half of it.

Throughout his time in Hawkins, you’d always been there in some way, ever since you were little kids. One day, you’d simply sat down next to him and gave him half of your strawberry jelly sandwich when his parents had failed to give him lunch that morning (which they usually did).

That was how the friendship had started.

After his mother died and his dad went to jail, his uncle Wayne had taken him in and the two of you became a very permanent fixture in Eddie’s life. Until he had fucked it all up, which he had all done for you as he had kept telling himself.

Still tore his heart in two every time that he saw you in the hallways at school after you had shut him out completely. It constantly made him want to run after you and drag you into an empty classroom, so he could explain why he had done what he did, but if he told you that there was always a chance that things could get worse.

Not like now, when you’re both older and wiser, and there’s no chance of either one of you running off. You could talk about it now, as adults, or some version of it at least, because Eddie still doesn’t feel very ‘adult’ if he’s totally honest.

The unshed tears are for the connection that he had with you for years, one that he threw away thinking that it would be better, but he got you back now. He’s right here, in your house, your bedroom, and yes, he loves you, always has.

You kiss the corners of his eyes and murmur, “What are you thinking about?” against his skin. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing,” he says too quickly and the way that you’re looking at him tells him that you don’t believe him at all. “Okay,” he chuckles instead. “You. I was thinking about you.”

“I’m right here,” you answer with a smile. “So you don’t have to think about me. Not when I’m right in front of you.” You release his hands and loop your arms around his neck. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, your fingers playing with his short hair, pulling on the curls. “I miss the hair.”

“Oh yeah?” You nod. “I could grow it long again. For you.”

“That’ll take ages.” You grab a handful of his locks and yank his head back. “Besides, it’s long enough to pull.”

“Little minx.”

“It was too tempting, I couldn’t help it.” His hands circle around your waist and his impossibly big brown eyes glaze over again. “Stop doing that. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You. It’s always been you.” His honesty is making your cheeks burn. That was always the thing about Eddie, he could be brutally honest at times and he wasn’t trying to hide anything from you now. “I’m making you uncomfortable, ain’t I?”

“No, not really.” You press your cheek against his shoulder to avoid his intense gaze. “Just can’t deal with you looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Pulling away, you sat up straight and looked into those impossibly deep brown pools that were his eyes again. “Like that.” You knew that it didn’t explain anything, but you would damn well try. “Like I’m… I don’t know… special.” When the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, you covered it with your hand. “I know that it sounds stupid,” you laugh. “I can’t come up with the words to explain it.”

“You are special,” he mumbled against your hand. When you looked at him quizzically, despite having heard him perfectly, he repeated himself. “You’re very special.”

“Sap,” you giggled. “You’re pretty special yourself. You’re everything.”

It was a spur of the moment confession and not something that meant much of anything, but it still meant the world to Eddie. He kissed your palm and you let it drop away from his mouth, fully expecting him to lick it next.

That hadn’t been on his mind at all.

For most of his life he had been told that he would amount to nothing, just like his dad, and he had proven every naysayer wrong since then. Even when he was getting ready to skip out of town with his friends, with nothing but a crazy dream and some cash that they had saved up, there were still people that tried to talk him out of it.

The only one that believed in him was his uncle. And he was sure that you would have believed in him, too, would have told him to go and to never look back if you had still been around.

So you telling him that he was ‘everything’ had unexpectedly hit a soft spot.

Pressing forward, he kisses you then, hard. As if to somehow confirm that you’re really here, that this is really happening, that you’re not some kind of mirage that his mind had conjured up.

“Calm down.” You place your hand on his chest and gently push him back to put some space in between you two. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’d better not,” he replies. He runs a hand from your shoulder blade down to your ass and he squeezes the pliant flesh hard enough to leave a mark. “Feel that?”

“What kinda question is that?” you laugh. “Yeah, I felt that. Wanna do it again?” He repeats it, squeezing harder this time and digging his short fingernails into your skin until you let out a soft moan. “I swear to god, if you skip town tomorrow morning, I will never fucking forgive you.”

“If I’m leaving, I’m taking you with me.” You stare at him as if he just lied to you, as if this is just sex to him and he just told him what you want to hear. “I’m fucking serious, babe. I need you with me.”

He was offering you a ticket out, which was all that you ever wanted, but now that you have it, you don’t know what to say.

So you kiss him instead.

The kiss turns fiery, into a battle between lips with tongue and teeth thrown in, and you’re left gasping into his mouth as his teeth gently close around your bottom lip and pull. Eddie gasps himself when you reach down to wrap your fingers around his now fully erect cock.

“Need to fuck you,” he pants against your cheek. “Please let me fuck you.”

“Lay down,” you answer. “Scoot back on the bed and lay down for me.”

When you pull away, you do it with reluctance. It would have been far easier to simply sink down on him before, but you want him in a different way.

“Good boy,” you say when he does as he’s told, laying in the middle of your bed with his head pressed back against the pillows. You can tell that he likes being called a good boy so you store that away for later usage.

Moving up the bed, you straddle his waist and you press down against his stomach, making sure that he’s able to feel exactly how wet you still are. Reaching a hand back, you grasp his hardened shaft and give him a few tugs until Eddie bites his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you tell him as you move back a little, your wet cunt hovering over him. “That okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he hiccups. “I want you to.”

“Such a good boy.” You can see him shiver and it makes you snicker. “Don’t worry. Good boys get what they deserve.”

You position his cock in front of your entrance and sink down on him. Just a little at first. You pause when his tip has slid in and you moan exaggeratedly. You take some more, moving down until he’s about halfway in and when you look at Eddie, his expression has a slightly pained quality to it.

“You’re so big, Ed,” you keen out as you wink at him. He slaps your ass and the noise of the impact reverberates through the room.

“Brat.” His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him a little bit more. “Stop teasing.”

“But it’s such fun. Don’t you like it? Not even a little bit?” Before he can say that he does or doesn’t, you shift your weight and his cock slips fully inside you. The two of you moaned in unison. “Fuck.”

For a short while, you don’t move, simply marinating in him, adjusting to his size and how full he made you feel. His fingernails had broken through your skin from how tightly he was gripping you, but you barely even noticed. Not when Eddie was underneath you, his eyes half-lidded and looking up at you with such a lustful gaze that it should have killed you on the spot.

“I’m gonna move now,” you mewl as you rock your hips back and forth experimentally. “Holy shit, Eddie.”

“Good?” You bite your lower lip and rotate your hips as your eyelids flutter shut. “Fuck, you look so good like that.”

“N-not so bad yourself,” you manage to reply with your eyes still closed, the image of him burned into your irises. You happen to angle your clit just right against the trail of hair that ran down from his belly button and gasped out, “My god.”

“Just me,” Eddie chuckled smugly. “But thanks anyway.”

“Bet you get that a lot, huh?” Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to think of now, Eddie with other girls, all of whom probably worshiped him. You open your eyes and lean down over him, your face inches away. “But you should probably be worshiping me instead.”

The boldness of your words almost makes you laugh, but the way that his hands gripped you tighter, stopping you from moving against him altogether, the little moan that escaped his plush lips and the way that his pupils seemed to grow even larger for a millisecond there…

“Oh god.” You couldn’t help the wicked tone that seeped into your voice as you talked. “Are you into that?”

“Y-yes.” His reply is bordering on bashful. “Want you to use me.”

“I will,” you say as you sit upright once more. “I damn well will.”

If that was what he wanted, who were you to deny him this?

Lifting yourself up, you groan as he slides out and before his cock can slip out entirely, you slam your hips back down. His hands shift to your ass, pushing you up when you move, but apart from that Eddie doesn’t offer much assistance.

This is all you.

“This what you want, pretty boy?” you ask while you play with your tits. He didn’t even have to answer your question, because it was written all over his face. “Me using you just to get off?”

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” he manages to answer. “That’s why I’m here-“ His sentence is cut off with a harsh gasp when you slam your hips down on his particularly hard, temporarily making him forget to draw another breath when the walls of your cunt grip him particularly hard. “Oh god yeah. Fuck. I’m here… j-just for you.”

“Good.” You place your hands on his stomach, pressing down on his sweat slicked skin. The same glistening sheen stuck to your skin as well, partly from the stifling heat outside that got in through the open windows but mostly from how hard you were exerting yourself. “Such a-fuck!”

Both of you swore loudly as you found an angle that was particularly good for both of you. You worked hard to find it again, angling your hips and grinding down so hard that it should have been intolerable, but your legs quivered every time that you got it just right. 

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen flex as you keep up your rough pace, riding him roughly, and chasing the friction that would make your toes curl which was steadily building in your gut. Eddie keeps balancing you with his hands on your ass, rocking you a bit more forcefully.

Your right hand shifts and slides up, to the empty spot, right over his heart. You can’t stop yourself from digging your nails into his pectoral muscle and you feel it jump under your palm. You drag your nails over it, creating red marks, to give him something to fill up the space for a short while.

You want to leave your mark. Desperately.

If Eddie notices what you’re doing, he doesn’t say anything. All he does is lay underneath you, his hands tight on your ass, gripping so hard that the imprint of his hands were going to be on your flesh for days afterwards. Several stray strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead and you swore that you could see beads of sweat slide into his hairline every time that you moved. His blown out pupils are on your face at all times, as if he doesn’t want to miss a thing at all.

You wink at him and he chuckles. “You’re crazy.”

“No doubt about it,” you groan. “Oh fuck, Eddie, you’re in so deep.” You gyrate your hips against his once before leaning back, your hands planted on his thighs and moving your hips up and down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel so fucking good.”

Your jaw goes slack when Eddie pushes his hips up, pressing himself even deeper inside than before, practically impaling you. Your head falls back, your eyes on the ceiling, and you jump slightly when you feel his thumb pressing against your clit.

His eyes are on the point where your bodies meet, where your cunt is dripping with your slick so much that he can feel it oozing down and coat his balls. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the sickening squelch every time that your pussy slams down on his cock, is like music to his ears.

The change in pitch of your voice, turning your desperate mewls into words that got strung together and mashed into one long continuous string of “ohfuckyessoclose” until it was reduced to nothing but “pleasepleaseplease” over and over again.

The words get more strangled the harder he rubs against the swollen bundle of nerves, your walls bearing down and constricting him, until one loud cry bursts from your lungs, his name, and the coil in your belly finally snaps.

Your orgasm washes over you with all the force of a tidal wave and your arms almost buckle behind you when it hits, but you just about manage to keep yourself upright. Eddie’s hands grip your hips tightly, taking over and fucking you through your blinding climax, chasing his own release as he rams himself up into you.

“Where?” His voice manages to pierce through the deafening rush of blood in your ears. “Where do you-“

“Inside,” you choke out. He doesn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s asking. “Come in-inside m-me.”

The words are barely out of your mouth when you feel his cock twitch, pumping wave after wave of cum inside you. He wouldn’t even have been able to pull out if you had told him to.

Eddie manages a few more tiny thrusts up into you until he’s completely spent. The tension in his muscles eases and his hands move to your lower back in an attempt to pull you forward.

You collapse on top of him a bit harder than you intended, a small “oomph” pulled from his lungs which made you snort out a laugh. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and you briefly feel his lips connect with the top of your head.

You settle against him, your ear pressed to his chest, and you listen to his racing heartbeat, listening as it calms down and turns into a steady drum inside his ribcage. You can feel your eyes begin to close, seconds away from nodding off, when his hand clutches yours. Your fingers lace together, like they had done many times that night, and you hoped they would do many more times after tonight.

“I meant it, you know,” Eddie says softly, not sure if you’re already asleep or not since you hadn’t moved at all.

“Hm?”

“Everything that I said tonight.” Your mind floods with all kinds of words, there had been a lot of talking in between other things after all. “Every single word.”

“That’s nice,” you murmur, not really in the mood for talking as you drift off to sleep. You’d be kicking yourself for that dumb reply in the morning.

“I love you.” His lips touch the top of your head and they stay there. “Always have.”

“Mm,” you can’t stop yourself from yawning. “I love you too, Eddie.”

“Get some sleep,” he chuckles. “I wore you out.”

You’re too far gone to come up with a smartass reply and barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” to him before you finally doze off.

You didn’t sleep long. Your body had grown an inbuilt clock, ensuring that you woke up at around the same time every day, all because of the store.

Didn’t matter that it was Sunday today, you woke up early regardless.

Despite knowing full well what happened the night before, you’re still kind of surprised to find Eddie next to you when you wake. It takes some time for the realization to set in that it’s still ridiculously early, especially for him. Eddie had never been a morning person and you sincerely doubted that that had changed in your years apart.

When he stirs next to you, which was possibly because he could somehow sense that you were awake, you press your lips against his collarbone. His eyes slowly open, his vision momentarily bleary, and he needs to blink a few times to uncloud his eyesight and focus on you.

“Morning,” he croaks before yawning. “Fuck, it’s too early.”

“For you maybe,” you murmur while leaving a trail of kisses from his shoulder up to his neck. “You can go back to sleep.”

“When you’re kissing me like that?” He still sounds groggy, voice low as he rubs the palm of his hand over his closed eye. “Fat chance.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you grin. When you nip at his jaw, he lazily swats a hand against your arm. “Whaaaat?”

“Tease.” Tilting his head down, your lips finally meet, morning breath be damned. “Morning.”

“Morning, handsome.” His lips freeze and you can actually hear his breathing stall as well so you push yourself up and hover over him. “Did that just elicit a response?” you tease, poking a finger in his side. “Handsome.”

“I-I-“ His cheeks flush pink and a gleeful giggle erupts from your mouth. “I just like it, okay?”

“Aw,” you coo. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think that it’s cute.” Eddie covers his face with his hands and if anything, it just made him look even more adorable. “Alright, alright, I won’t make fun of you.” He spreads his fingers so he can fix one eye on you and then you throw in a quick, “For now.”

He rolls over on his stomach very dramatically with an unnecessarily loud groan and you’re torn between teasing him some more and throwing yourself on top of him.

You do neither, opting instead for getting out of bed completely. You’re only just grabbing a pair of panties out of one of the drawers next to the bed when you hear the bed creak.

“Come back to bed,” Eddie says behind you.

You’re ready to deny his request and you probably could have done it if you hadn’t turned around to face him. The sight of Eddie Munson, butt naked, would be a view that you knew that you would never tire of.

And you already knew that you would be unable to deny him anything.

Without arguing, you joined him again, dropping the underwear on the floor where it would lay completely forgotten for the next few hours.

“No witty replies or smart comebacks?” Eddie asks while you snuggle into his side. “Nothing?” You write the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’ on his stomach and remain silent. “I’ll just enjoy the silence then.”

The silence is pleasant, not uncomfortable like it can be sometimes, instead you lay there and listen to his heartbeat and his steady breathing. He draws patterns into your skin, wherever he can reach, swirls and waves and something that you think are supposed to be leaves and flowers, like he’s painting on you with an invisible brush.

“How quickly can you pack?” His voice is the first thing that cuts through the silence, just as he’s in the process of drawing star after star onto your skin. “Just the essentials so you’ll be good for a couple days.”

“Pack? Pack what?”

“You know, clothes, toothbrush, that kind of thing.”

“I can’t just leave,” you reply as you tilt your head up to look at him. “What about the store?” Even when you had been running nothing but losses for a while now, your first thoughts were of nothing but the store.

“We can get someone to open it up while you’re away?” he offers, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You know that you won’t be able to open the store every morning when you’re living with me, right?”

A half remembered comment from last night pops into your head suddenly, of Eddie saying that you would be coming with him if he left.

“You were serious?” you blurt out suddenly.

“Was I-“ When he shifts underneath you, you move back and sit up. Eddie does the same. “You thought I wasn’t serious?” He actually looks a bit hurt and that in turn makes your heart ache, too. “I’m not the kind of guy that says stuff like that just so I can get laid. You know me.”

“I do, I do.” You start backtracking immediately, not even sure what you want to say when you open your mouth. “It’s just that I’ve been disappointed before, so I don’t know, it sounded too fanciful,” you say apologetically.

“I would never, ever, play with your feelings like that.” He sounds so sincere that you immediately take his word for it. “That Eddie is long gone. I’m so fucking serious right now.”

You avert your eyes, ashamed, feeling awfully foolish right now. You feel his fingers on your jaw and your eyelids flutter shut when he rubs circles against your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you,” he repeats. “You think that I can go back after I got a taste of you? No fucking way. You’re coming home with me and you’re staying right there while I spoil the shit out of you. Fuck, I might even buy a ring to make it official the second I- we get back.”

“Eddie.” You gasp out his name, his sudden declaration enough to make your heart skip several beats. “That sounds good to me, but maybe not make promises that you can’t keep?”

“You doubt me?” He moves so that he’s sitting on his knees on the bed, arms gestured out to you dramatically. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was stark naked, you might even call the pose somewhat chivalrous, but it just looks a bit silly right now. “You doubt the devotion of Eddie the Bard?”

“Oh god!” You smack a hand against his chest and laugh loudly. “You’re such a dork.”

“Milady, I am deadly serious.” And he looked it, too. “Honest.” He reverts back to his normal self, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest, his expression all serious. “You’re mine. I’ve known that since I was thirteen and covered in acne. I was a pussy about it before, but I’ve grown up since.”

“Barely,” you giggle. He tilts his head to the side and tries to give you his best disappointed look. “I couldn’t resist. Sorry, not sorry.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and continues, “As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me…” He presses your joined hands to your sternum and says, “Mine.” Then moves them to his chest. “Yours.”

He has the audacity to look slightly uncertain then, as if the prospect might somehow offend you, as if he was offering you something that could potentially be unwelcome and make you throw it back in his face.

“You know,” he mumbled before looking away. “If you want to, that is.”

As if you would say no.

“I want,” you reply softly, so softly that it’s barely a whisper, that he might not have heard at all, so you say it again. “I want.” And he definitely heard you that time. “Of course I do.”

His face lights back up immediately, as if millions of fireworks just went up into the sky, and he looks like he’s seconds away from screaming “REALLY?” and jumping up and down on your bed, but instead he surges forward and kisses you so hard that the two of you fall back on the mattress.

It feels like he kisses you for ages and your bodies start to move together languidly, with him growing hard against you. When he pulls away to draw in a deep breath, he gives you a dopey smile and your eyes are inexplicably drawn to that single curly lock of hair that’s draped over his forehead.

“Is that deliberate?” you ask as you flick at it with your fingers. “Do you pull that out every single day until it looks just right?”

“That’s what you want to talk about now?!”

“It’s been driving me insane since yesterday!” Eddie starts to laugh and you can feel your cheeks begin to heat up. “I’m sorry alright!”

“I’m not telling,” he chuckles. “So you’ll just have to deal with not knowing.” He sways his head from side to side and your eyes keep following the bouncing curl around as he does it. “Look at me.” You tear your eyes away from his hair with some reluctance and stare into his eyes which are as brown and warm as a mug of hot chocolate. “Mine?”

“What do you-“

“Mine?” He repeats himself a bit more sternly this time.

“Yours,” you answer. “I-I’ve always b-been yours.” You can feel your heart skipping a beat from his scrutinizing gaze. “Y-you said that I’ve had your heart for a long time, but the same thing goes for you.” You reach for one of his hands and place it over your heart like he had done yesterday. “It’s always been yours.”

Eddie looks at you as if you had just told him all the secrets of the universe, something a lot more important than a simple confession of love at least, but then his gaze turns hot and you close your eyes a split second before your lips meet again.

This time you could practically taste it, the promises, the devotion, the love. It was in every single movement of his lips against yours. You were an idiot for doubting his intentions for even one single second. How could you ever doubt him? You blame it on last night’s alcohol. It must have briefly clouded your judgment, muddying your mind and dragging up all your teenage uncertainties.

Those thoughts fade with every kiss. The way that Eddie kisses you makes it easy to forget all about your worries and doubts, tears it all down to its bare bones until it’s nothing but a boy and girl who have been denying themselves this for way too long.

There was no rush this morning, you could take it as slow as you wanted, and Eddie seems to want that as well, his movements slow as molasses in January.

His lips move away from yours, kissing and nipping down your jaw, moving against the shell of your ear where he softly murmurs, “That curl… I pull that one out on purpose every single day.”

“I knew it!”

[multifandomwriter56]

As It Was

A/N: Hello! I know I've been MIA for a long time. Life has been crazy and going back to college while having a full time job has taken a lot of my time. But I'm hoping to get back to writing on this blog. I've missed it and I have missed everyone so much. I make no promises but I'm going to try.

Summary: Arthur and Y/n have always been super close; but when the boys get back from the war, things have change.

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions Arthur's attempt at suicide

Word Count: 2,698

*gif is not mine*

The rumor about the men who came back from the war are not the same men that left; It’s true. No one came back the same after the war. Not a single soul.

But it wasn’t just the soldiers who changed. Those who were stuck at home, waiting for their loved ones to return. They changed too.

Y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she changed. She just remembers one day realizing she’s not the little girl who loved to draw rainbows, horses, and flowers anymore. Or the little girl who taught Finn how to aim at a moving rat, even though their Aunt Polly despised them touching guns. Not even the little girl who would take walks with her favorite brother, Arthur.

Y/n would never say she has a favorite brother aloud, but she knows her family sees how close the oldest brother and youngest sister are. There may be eighteen years difference between them, but they would sometimes act like twins.

Y/n enjoys John’s company and loves his jokes. Finn, she will always protect and care for. Ada, well they clash on fashion and boys, but they would kill for one another. And Tommy, well, the two siblings have never been able to get along. Tommy had big dreams that didn’t include his baby sister. Greta wanted to change the world and wanted Tommy to help her. Y/n wanted Tommy to help take care of the family instead of spending all his time at the docks waiting for the young woman to show up.

Even at a young age, Y/n knew it would always be Tommy who would provide for the family; be their leader. She loves Arthur, but he’s more of a follower than a leader. Tommy has always had ideas and Y/n knew those ideas would help them rise in Small Heath.

So with the boys off fighting in the war, Y/n made sure to follow her brother’s orders on how to run the shop.

Polly was the only one Y/n would let stray from Tommy’s list.

“You’re ten years old, Y/n. You are not the boss and know nothing about bets.” Her aunt admonishes.

“I know enough, Polly. I have Tommy’s list and Arthur’s notes.”

“So now you’re an expert at running betting shops?”

“I wasn’t saying that.” The ten year mumbles.

“Then you’ll do your best to remember who is in charge of the business.”

Y/n knows when to stop when it comes to her aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/n will admit, she learnt a lot from her aunt; not just business, but women’s business.

But now that the war is over, Y/n’s noticed how more involved Tommy is; how he keeps adding to the business.

Arthur is less present when it comes to his baby sister. They don’t go on walks anymore.

The fourteen year old moved into Arthur’s home when they came back. She wanted away from her very controlling brother and closer to the brother she knows best.

Except now, it seems that she understands Tommy more than she does Arthur.

The war may have changed all of her brothers, but something broke in Arthur. His nightmares keep her up at night and the one time she tried to wake him up, he almost choked her to death.

After that, she would either lay in her bed, listening to his screams or she would get John if the screams lasted longer than ten minutes.

“You shouldn’t be at Arthur’s alone.” Tommy tells his sister as he lit a cigarette.

“I’m not alone. Arthur is there.”

“You know what I mean, Y/n. Arthur is struggling and you being around isn’t helping.”

Y/n scoffs. “Actually, I think I help Arthur more than you can ever imagine trying to help him. You just hate that I’m not under your roof and you can’t boss me around.”

Tommy points his lit cigarette at her, his eyebrows raised in warning. “You will do as you're told or I will turn you over my knee.”

Y/n once again scoffs. Tommy has never disciplined her, he wasn’t ever around to take her in hand. That dirty task was left to their aunt. “Not only am I fourteen years old, but you have never raised a hand to me. Why start now?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n.”

Yeah, he’s bluffing, Y/n thinks. She stands to her feet. “Yes sir, Sergeant Major. If that’s all, Sergeant, I would like to finish my studies. Wouldn’t want to show up to school without my work now would we?”

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to keep arguing with his sister. He, instead, waves his hand in a dismissive gesture without even glancing up.

The day Y/n dreaded came. Arthur had tried to commit suicide by hanging himself after he fell for their father’s con. She had found him at their home, raging and destroying the room. She skillfully dodged his swings and shouted at him.

“Arthur! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” She ducks when he throws an ashtray at her head. “It’s Y/n, brother!”

“Y/n?”

The broken voice has Y/n on the verge of tears. “Yes.” She nods her head. “It’s Y/n. I’m here.” She makes her way to her brother as his knees buckle and he lands on the floor. She holds him close, his chin digging into her shoulder as he sobs.

Y/n doesn’t know how long they stay in this position but she loses feeling in her left shoulder and feet.

When Arthur finally is able to compose himself, he stands to his feet, rubbing a shaking hand through his hair.

“Arthur, what happened to your neck?”

The older man covers the deep bruise around his neck. “Nothing.”

Y/n starts to shake her head, the pieces falling together. “No, no. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave me here.” She stops talking but her head is still moving side to side; not wanting to accept that her brother, her hero, tried to kill himself.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” She sharply cuts him off. “Don’t apologize. I just need a moment to process.” She sits in a chair that he hadn’t flipped yet. “I need to figure out what to do. I need- no you need some of Polly’s ointment, and a drink… yeah, yeah.” She stands to her feet, ignoring the concerned look coming from her brother. “Sit down, Arthur. I’ll pour you some whiskey and get some ointment to help with the bruising.

“Y/n, I don’t- fuck.” Arthur curses when she completely ignores him and heads for the kitchen.

Only a few minutes pass until Y/n comes back. She hands the glass of whiskey to him and starts applying the ointment.

Y/n stayed with her brother until he decided to go to bed. She heads up to her room. In the morning, she’ll tell Polly. Fuck knows what Tommy will say if he hears about this. She never knows if he will help Arthur or make it worse.

In the morning. Y/n told her aunt and she should have known her aunt would tell their fearless leader. So she wasn’t surprised to see him walk in as she hands Arthur a cup of tea.

The look Tommy sends her is clear.

She smiles softly at her eldest brother. “I will be up in my room if you need me.” She tells him, her invitation not extending to the other brother.

She heads upstairs but does not go into her room. She sits on the top step, listening as Tommy belittles their brother. She rolls her eyes. She should’ve known Tommy would never express real feelings.

“Just use a fucking gun, man.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Y/n shouts as she storms down the stairs. “That’s all you have? Next time, use a gun?”

“Leave it be, Y/n.”

Y/n glares at Arthur. “No, Arthur, I can’t just leave it be.” She turns her glare back at the brother she is upset with. “I know it’s hard for you to express feelings now, but I would rather you not say anything at all than talk to our brother that way. He deserves better.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.”

“Fuck off, Thomas!” She shouts as she steps in his space. “You only care about having Arthur around so he can beat and kill people who piss you off. That’s all that matters to the all powerful Tommy Shelby.”

The slap echoes throughout the whole house, each sibling frozen in their place.

Y/n holds a hand over her now stinging cheek, staring at the man who has never raised a hand to her. Her and Tommy may not get along but she never thought he would physically harm her. Never.

She turns to Arthur, wondering how he will react. To her surprise he’s staring at her in disappointment.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Tommy like that, Y/n. You were out of line.”

“I was out of line?” She snaps. “What am I supposed to do, Arthur, eh? Am I supposed to stand at attention and wait for the sergeant to bark orders? Huh?”

“Enough.” He doesn’t shout, but his voice still booms, causing his baby sister to flinch, preparing for another blow.

The guilt had already come, but seeing her flinch made Tommy feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n, I-” He reaches out to comfort her but stops when she steps back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me. I hate you.” She looks at Arthur. “I hate you both.”

“Let her go, Arthur.” Tommy orders when the eldest Shelby stands to follow Y/n who ran out of the house.

***

For a month, Y/n stays with John and his kids; but as much as she loves her nieces and nephews, she refuses to stay there another night.

Lizzie Stark, who’s been helping her brother with the kids, tells her to go back home, to work it out with Arthur.

“And Tommy?” The fourteen year old asks the older woman.

Lizzie smirks. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Y/n smiles at that. She hopes her brother doesn’t wait too long to give Lizzie the ring he’s been hiding.

Knowing exactly where her brother will be, Y/n heads to the Garrison. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the locked door.

“We’re closed.” Is the muffled response from the barmaid.

“It’s Y/n Shelby.” She knows that’s all she has to say for the doors to open. Grace has been kind to her since she’s started working at the pub, and Y/n appreciates that, but she doesn’t trust the barmaid. She’s not sure why, but she has a hard time believing this Irish woman just decided to move to Birmingham without a real reason.

When the door opens, she smiles politely at Grace before squeezing past her. She heads straight to the back room, knowing her eldest brother will be attempting to balance the books.

She comes to halt mere centimeters from the entrance, her heart racing. What if he really is on Tommy’s side? What if he thinks she really did deserve to be slapped? What if she’s completely lost the only person to ever love her for her?

“Gracie, is that you? You ready to help me with these numbers yet?”

Y/n laughs quietly through the breath she was holding. Who is she kidding? Arthur is one of the kindest, loving people she knows. How could he hate her… right?

“It’s me, Arthur.” She barely gets that short sentence out above a whisper.

“Y/n?”

She steps fully into the room, her arms behind her back. “Hi.”

Arthur just stares at his baby sister, the anger, the pain of not seeing her for days, and the guilt… the guilt that has literally eaten him alive, rises to the surface. His loyalty to his brother clouded his love for his sister and he will hate himself for the rest of his life.

Being a Shelby makes it hard for them to express their emotions through words. No matter the emotion, the words usually fail to spit out, but actions, they’ve never been a problem for a Shelby.

So instead of saying the words, “I’m sorry” Arthur jumps to his feet and pulls the young girl into his arms, holding as tight as he can.

And since Y/n is not only a Shelby but also able to read her brother like a book, Y/n returns the hug and her anger disappears.

“You’re coming back home, ain’t ya?”

Y/n smiles, glad she was right. “My bag is already back in my room.”

Arthur squeezes her one more time, dropping a wet kiss on top of her head before releasing her. “Good.”

Y/n goes to ask him about how he’s been but a familiar voice stops her.

“Arthur, Tommy told me to get you. Family meeting in ten.” Finn turns to his sister, hope in his eyes. “Are you back?”

Y/n had kept in touch with Finn, having him fill her in on everything that was happening while she was gone. Finn didn’t know much, but she was able to fill in the gaps on most of what he told her.

“Yes, I’m back.”

Finn smiles. “Good. Arthur’s been too emotional and Tommy’s about to shoot him if he hears him complain one more time about you not being at the family meetings.”

Y/n laughs at Finn’s blunt statement; laughing harder when Arthur spouts profanities as he takes off after the youngest Shelby. She follows the duo, figuring it’s time for her to show her faceto the rest of the family.

Her smile stays in place as they make their way to Watery Lane, listening to her brother banter back and forth about what to tell and what to keep to yourself. So far, Finn’s winning the argument.

She can feel her smile start to get smaller the closer they get to her old home; and the smile completely disappears when Arthur opens the door for her. She comes to a halt at the threshold of the betting shop, her eyes immediately on the Peaky Blinders leader.

She’s thankful he hasn’t noticed her yet, but that little comfort quickly disappears when her aunt tells him to shut up as she makes her way to her niece.

Y/n easily accepts the hug from her aunt, the woman who practically raised her, but winces when she gets a clip to her ear.

“A month is too damn long, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers as Polly releases her; a small smile appears when her aunt gently caresses her cheek.

Knowing she needs to face the elephant in the room, or more commonly known as Thomas Shelby, Y/n peels her eyes off her aunt and stares straight into her brother’s eyes, hoping he can’t see the fear in them.

Compared to the other family members, Tommy is a mute when it comes to emotions. The only time words and emotions are mixed together is when he’s angry. He doesn’t say “I love you”, “I need you”, or anything that is remotely tied to emotions.

That said, the man is a master at showing his emotions through actions. One look can tell you so much about the gang leader. You just have to know how to read them; and Y/n is a master at this skill. She’s almost as good as their aunt.

So when she sees the barely noticeable nod of approval, and watches as Tommy pulls out a chair; she knows she has been welcomed back by their fearless leader.

And after she sits, he gently kisses her cheek, the same cheek he hurt a month ago, and she knows he’s asking for forgiveness.

She grasps his hand before he can pull away, giving it one good squeeze, so he knows he’s been forgiven.

They will never have a relationship like her and Arthur, or like him and Ada; but they can coexist together in their family; and that’s enough for them both.

Peaky Blinders: @psychkunox @theshelbyclan @lilymurphy03 @findinghisredrighthand

Forevers: @desiredposion @theseakrakence @simonsbluee

[suneslvr]

Hello how are you? I hope you are good. I would like to make a request for Dazai, Chuuya along with any other characters you want to add with a Fem!Reader Weird? or paranoid? who is intelligent and creates emergency plans for almost everything (he actually makes elaborate plans for silly things like "what if... a dog stood up on two legs and talked to me?", "what if a ghost appears" and stuff like this) Feel free not to accept this request!

skeptic....

warnings ; nothing lol (not proofread)

obsidian; (dazai x f!reader), (chuuya x f!reader), (fyodor x f!reader)

notes: i'm doing fine! sorry this took so long, tysm for the request!

% - DAZAI_______________

Dazai is so love in with you, it's kind of scary. he's enamored with the way you move, the way you talk, and even the way you seem to question absolutely everything. He likes to joke about how you'll make a great detective but sometimes it actually worries him. He could make a joke and would be able to see the paranoia spark up in your eyes, most of the time though, he plays along with you, when you see a dog staring at you for too long and subsequently decide it's a skin walker, he'll deliberately feed into your delusions unless there hurting your health in any way. Most people think your clinically insane, but even Dazai can't question the fact that your incredibly smart. Most of the time your skeptism is backed by evidence that if anyone thought longer about would come to the same conclusion as you. Sometimes he has to use this against you if one of your theories take up too much of your time and is affecting your health. He'll pull up evidence of why your wrong and the actual answer to your question. He'll just have to hope with how smart you are, you'll listen.

%-CHUUYA______________

Chuuya, though doesn't look like it, is very smart. and he's very happy your intelligent as well. But the way you seem to think everyone who stands next to you for longer than ten seconds is stalking you doesn't put you in the brightest light. And of course, in front of other people he pretends to believe you, he would never embarrass you like that, if you said that you think the moon is secretly a camera because of all of its holes in front of somebody, he's backing you up with every crazy theory ever. Though when your alone, you have gotten into many arguments about your latest unusual speculation. None that have hurt your relationship but good lord, there have been so many arguments about whether the sun is going to explode next tuesday. Sometimes though, your skeptism spreads to chuuya, either while he's on a mission or just doing something in everyday life. He can be on a mission and see one of the members looking at his phone and think that he's secretly an alien planning to take over the world from the inside. Of course, he brushes off these thoughts very quickly, but they still show up. Like when he's making toast in the morning, and the toasters gets a little too red and now he's thinking it's about to catch on fire. Again, that's just how toasters work.

%-FYODOR________________

Fyodor thinks everything you do is cute even the way you make crazy theories about weird aliens is the most adorable thing ever. He likes to pretend like he believes you just so you can keep going on about your insane theories. He'll make sarcastic comments about your theory and ask even more ridiculous questions. Though if your latest theory starts affecting your health, he'll be quick to shut it down, not even giving you evidence on why you were wrong. He wouldn't even bring up the topic after that. But he would be the type to tease you, saying that if you weren't so crazy then you could really help him with this work. Of course, he doesn't think you're crazy, some of him thinks that this is just a running joke, and all of your theories are just you messing with him. If you were in front of people, he would unfortunately embarrass you. If you made a weird theory, he would, in front of everyone, debunk it with evidence and subsequently make you sound insane. He knows all of your theories are false but sometimes when he's alone, if he sees anything slightly abnormal, he'll think about all of the theories you would have made if you were there.

requests are encouraged <333

[cutielights]

Hey, hey! I would like to request a Rosey Maple Moth! mother figure reader with the rottmnt boys!! And the scenario is that they were caught sneaking out of the lair for their own reason? (Separately) Por favor and thank you!! :3 (DAILY REMINDER! drink water, sleep well, etc!) (yes.. I know I wrote this at 12:21 sh..)

Okokok! Sounds very cute let’s do it <3 *quickly Google’s what a Rosey Maple Moth is* ITS SO CUTE

@whyam1h3reohrightf0rsillyturtl3s

I am gonna leave it vague btw, just because not everyone has a rosey maple moth oc, but I am gonna mention wings and being nocturnal I hope that’s okay!

Tw: none

Rise Boys + Mother Figure! Reader

Off topic, I make the banners on top of multiple character head-cannons and this one is my personal favourite I’ve made

Leo

Oh he thought he was SLICK

Sneaking back in all ninja like

Headed to the kitchen for some goddamn coffee after whatever shenanigans he was off doing

At three in the morning

He saw your wings around the corner and knew it was over

“Leonardo Hamato where have you been?” >:[

“I’m getting uhhh chamomile tea, you know, for, sleep.”

“I can smell the beans from here.”

“No you can’t. You’re going crazy. Age does that to people.”

Sending him to his room, not like he’s going to sleep anyway the insomniac

Raph

He accidentally knocked over a lamp when sneaking back in

Thought he had gotten away with it

Until you flicked the light on

Disappointed ™️

“A. What are you doing? B. That was my favourite lamp.”

“I- uh- was sleep walking?”

*cue you talking a sip of coffee whilst maintaining eye contact until he cracks*

It came sooner than expected

“Okay fine I was out I’m sorry, but you’re up too!”

“I’m nocturnal I have a biological excuse young man.”

Donnie

God knows what he was doing

I don’t even want to ask

He calculated that you may be waiting for him so he made a FOOLPROOF plan on how to avoid you

You had anticipated this, and waited in the lab instead, you got to spin around on the chair for a dramatic entrance

“Hello Donatello. Nocturnal now are we?”

*cue shrieking*

He wasn’t expecting that

“I was just, uh, getting some supplies for my drill, that is still in beta. And that you cannot see yet.”

Disapproving look ™️

Making him go to sleep

Mikey

Sneaking out

He was seen

Sneaking back in

He was seen

Mikey thought he was sooo sneaky >:[

*Flicking on the light the moment he enters the room.*

“Michelangelo Hamato, what are you doing?”

*Quick play dumb!*

“Who’s Michelangelo?”

*Not that dumb!*

[reinedeslys-central]

kotlc things that I keep thinking about that are never really addressed by canon

there is a complete replica of sophie's bedroom and perhaps countless other rooms just. somewhere in a building in mysterium that the councillors just know about.

alden and other telepaths were instructed to monitor the citizens' minds for signs of dissent around the time the prentice thing was going down

they regularly torture prisoners and dissenters into literal insanity that they can't come back from

they also have a super weird prison only accessible by quicksand (????) to house said prisoners

there is an ENTIRE DUNGEON OF WEIRD LAB EXPERIMENTS DOWN BY THE VACKER HOUSE?

okay. how - how big is havenfield?

the entire thing with - is their name twix? the person dex was working with for something. why do we not get to see that more. why is dex the criminally underrated goated character and WE DON'T GET FLESHED OUT CHARACTER ARCS FOR EVERYONE

linh flooded. atlantis. linh song FLOODED ATLANTIS hello what do people think about that?????????? do they see her on the street and whisper? what's up with "The Girl Of Many Floods"? Where else did she flood?

What is up with the song family (tong? their name changed after their grandmother or smth got famous with their music right?) that both their children not only have two very powerful elemental abilities, but are also crazy skilled with said Talents.

why are music, art, and culture not a bigger thing? like yeah, plot, obviously, but that's just worldbuilding!!! I wanna see!!!! art hanging on the walls! Defying gravity! more sculptures! more music playing in the shopping centres!! If they have imparters why don't they have long distance radio? are there mandatory dance lessons? what's the etiquette like besides what we already know?

more animal husbandry at schools. speaking of schools: we KNOW foxfire and exilium aren't the only schools. are smaller schools more specialised? are their community colleges or academies dedicated to specific career paths? universities?

okay but the polyglot ability is SO COOL???? tell me about the archaic variants of the enlightened language. there's no way that's just the elves' one language and the other species picked it up due to their 'superiority' or wtv. the goblins have cities of gold and metal and the trolls age backwards, you're not convincing me of anything.

secret societies in the other species. that has to exist right?

.....is squall dex's mom or not? I genuinely can't remember.

anyway remember when she froze gethen's fingernails off, yeah that happened (I think)

so instead of rehabilitating teenagers who have dangerous abilities and not much control over their powers, we just do....whatever the council did with gethen, ruy, and linh ig

hey, um...are we just not going to talk about dex casually HACKING INTO A GOV DATABASE WITH SOME RANDOM BITS OF ROCK AND TWINE? he can just do that. okay. okay. that's - yeah, okay.

did he match a frequency or something? how does the signal network even work in kotlc when everyone is technically all over the world in unplottable locations and they get around by LIGHT LEAPING???

ON THAT NOTE. light leaping. yeah haha funny let's just teach our kids to casually break down their very particles and hold onto their consciousness to travel at the speed of light using quantum mechanics and crystals that are specifically cut to project light in such a way that'll take you only to a specific location nvm im not thinking more about it.

flickering? is apparently a skill you can learn even if you're not a vanisher? remember in book two when fitz got prissy at sophie for knowing how to do it apparently b4 we figured out that she's a teleporter

keefe is a fun loveable goofball and I've always been on the sokeefe train but now the more I think about it he's really um.... yeah, uh, sophie? darling, please just don't date any of these people. obv you can make your own decisions but at least not now, okay. take care of yourself hon

the fitz hate is kinda weird ngl. wdym you don't want your problematic traitor brother to move back in to living literally with your family after supposedly losing his memories and that's a bad thing? wdym your close friend/crush is hiding things from you when yall are supposed to be cognates and she's kinda gaslighting you since, forever? wdym your father's been shadily telling you to stalk this girl in the human world since you were a kid? yeah definitely he does pull some weird stints throughout the series. but the bigger things i see ppl hating on him for are. hmmmmm

the council themselves choose to lock away the government secrets and wipe them from their memories. hey, um - recordkeeping is great, obvious, but - wiping those secrets from your minds isn't gonna help you lead while accounting for those parts of history, is it? nevermind how dangerous it is when there are huge species-wide secrets that NO ONE remembers. society-threatening incident waiting to happen.

the concept of vociferators. that's just kinda funny lol even if it is weird

are their schoold for diff abilities?

what's the genetics of talent inheritance? why are 'stronger' abilities rarer? In my opinion, p much every talent is goated, I don't see why more characters aren't more creative about it.

banning talents is just a bad move. like. are you serious? how is that going to make it better? that's how you get brant. brant was a pyrokinetic, without getting into the primary issue of the whole talentless/talented discrimination discourse, the secondary issue is he wouldve been able to marry jolie as two talented elves. would he have cracked if his ability was just a bit better handled by society?

grady is a mesmer. how - that's a really powerful ability???? how do you even train to use that? what do you even use it for?

same with whatever that lady councillor is that tried to seduce alden during his own wedding. fun times, yall.

rainbow fire??? cool????

so we have the sanctuary, do we also have a gigantic library of alexandria-esque thing? a botanical garden?

according to jolie's wiki she died at twenty as a level 8 at foxfire. so... hang on a minute. okay, sure, numerically that could make sense since sophie, at 12, became a level one - but are you telling me she went through the whole matchmaking process and was planning to get married that young????

hey, here's an idea - in a relatively stable society where economy is great, trust funds exist, people work to have something to do with their lives, birth rate is generally low (now through prejudice as well as societal comfort and ease/cost of living), why are they marrying so young? WHY ARE THE KIDS STARTING THE MATCHMAKING PROCESS IN THEIR TEENS???? the elven society has p much every mark of a stage 5 developed country? help? middle-high school human geography??

if they apparently live so long, show me the funny messy family trees with couples having children generations apart.

so, trust funds of lusters??? lustres?? (which we barely ever see. why is there little-to-no use of money?) which equate to roughly one trillion USD (in value? are you. are you - um. are you....serious?) exist. but I guess inflation and relative currency value from mass money printing doesn't count in this world, as well as the fact that there's only one currency for all the elves.

I wanna see a divorced elven couple now. how does divorce law work??????

if there's such a low BR and low population and people are yet still encouraged to have less kids to 'not dilute the genes' (that's my next point btw), I'm guessing matchmaking is encouraged younger to make sure population stays stable/growing? obv you need it to ensure genetic diversity and no incest, but if it's heavily encouraged for elves to have children like this, are queer elves mandated to have children with a surrogate/other couple even if they have a same-sex marriage?

i'll probably edit this or reblog it to include more stuff (character limit lol) as i remember the books bc it's been a hot minute since i read them.