#i don't know what to tag the cracked skin. i assume that is what it's meant to be

[inclusivepicrews]

skin tones, jaw shapes, cracked skin (like a porcelain doll?), lightning scar (i think?), elf ears, fish ears, horns, head wings, antlers, multiple eyes, natural hair + protective styles (locs and twists, or possibly stylised braids?), facial hair, face veils, hijab (? it is a very loose thick-looking hood that may be intended to be a fantasy-style cape, but going by the inclusion of veils i assume it's a hijab), glasses, facial scars, face tattoos/paint

[xxstylefntsyxx]

Daisuke darling, you're my bestfriend

Daisuke X Reader; bestfriends to lovers

Themes: sex and etc... not proofread

Bestfriend!Daisuke

Man oh fucking man... Swansea ain't never happy when you two come around. Young Intern? Bad... TWO Young interns!? Oh, give him a break! When you're not being occupied by Anya and her mock exams for your nursing position; you and daisuke were running around playing tag and making stupid jokes. It hurt swansea's head when he heard that suspicious giggling outside the doors, "Jesus fucking-"

"Hey, swansenator!" Daisuke giggled through a tight smile. You stood beside him, licking your lips with a smile creeping across your face. Swansea would groan internally before relieving himself from his work to turn around and deal with you two.

"What!?" He growled. He folded his arms across his chest with a loud huff. Daisuke was choking, trying to keep it in, "You wanna know what's better than twenty-four?"

Swansea wanted to slam his head into the upper shaft of the tulper. You too, standing in his face with those dumb eyes staring back at him. Face puffed out and tears streaming down your cheeks.

"What daisuke, what could possibly bring better than twenty-fuckin' four!?" He'd entertain, just waiting for his dumbass to Crack.

"Pfft-! Twenty-fuckin' five!" He burst into tears, choking and coughing on his laughter. You as well, doubling over and crying laughter.

Now you were being chased down by an angry Swansea. Jimmy would be leaving his room, and you two zoomed past. You would throw a angry, "Move Bitch!"

And daisuke would be cackling as you run. "I'll kill em' you better run you little assholes! I'll show you what's better than twenty-fuckin' five! It's called never being able to see twenty-mothafuckin' six!"

And best believe when it's time to find your best friend, you know who to bother and just how to do it. Even if Swansea had his annoyance with daisuke, you were a demon.

In you came, "Swanseaaa! Where's daisuke? Told him we could have lunch together, so if you'll kindly relinquish your pen pal, that would be most heavenly!"

You'd come up poking his face as he grumbled and tried shrugging you off. "I DON'T KNOW AND DON'T EXPECT ME TOO!" He yelled.

you were adiment on finding your best friend so, if gramps couldn't accept it then oh well. "Cmon gramps! You gotta know, he tells you everything with his loud ass." You rolled your eyes, pushing off and sitting in daisukes seat.

"Then his loud ass shoulda' told you! Dontcha' think!?" He'd answer.

You leaned back in it, earning a loud and annoying creek. Swansea cringed, hoping he wouldn't notice his annoyance.

A smirk danced across your face as you hummed and leaned back forward with a louder creek, even slower than the last. On and on until Swansea slammed his hands on the desk, "Kitchen... he is in the god damn kitchen! Now get out!"

"Thank you, pop-pop!" You winked, getting up and walking away. Leaving Swansea frustrated and tired, "Damn kids..."

Bestfriend!Daisuke

If curly had a dime for every time he caught you and daisuke sneaking the sweetener out the cabinets, he wouldn't have to work for Pony Express. Every time he'd hear you two speaking quietly about how you'll get it to his room and how to avoid curly. You just didn't notice the poor guy standing there looking st you two from the breezeway like a disappointed dad.

"Shut the fuck up! He'll hear us!" You'd whisper at daisuke, who was currently wincing at the loud ass noise he made with the cabinet. He gently hushed you with a finger and said, "Dude fuck! I'm sorry! Don't yell at me!" He'd whimper about it later that you could've said it without yelling. But you'll disagree and tell him his dumbass can do it by himself if he gonna be noisy.

Nonetheless- poor curly stood there for a good second until you two were trying to exit the kitchen.

"I assume you two are going to-?" He questioned with a furrowed eyebrow. You two almost jumped out of your skin. You can't run from the captain, unwritten rule between you and daisuke. And don't run from nurse Anya either. That's not cool.

"We were- gonna, uh..." daisuke looked at you for a response. You shrugged back and said, "Yeah, we were um..." you didn't know either. To be fairly honest, y'all were gonna just eat then and then bounce off the walls listening to music.

Curly sighed deeply and outstretched his hands to the both of you to relinquish your sweet snacks.

"Dammit..." He'd hang his head, giving up the delicious packets to his captain. Later that day, curly made a cake for 'special' reasons.

"Never again, unless it's for birthdays." Curly would lean over to you. You'd nod and curly nodded back.

Bestfriend!Daisuke

He was always so nice to you and Anya. You'd occasionally catch them talking and would watch from a distance. As they talked, he'd catch you out the corner of his eye and finish up his conversation with Anya. Before he left her, he'd give her a tiny pat on the head and walk to you.

"Did you just pat a grown woman on the head?" You asked. Daisuke blushed before raising his hands in defense over his face, "Hush! You don't get it! She just reminds me of someone I know... caring and all that. It just felt like the right thing to do!"

Bestfriend!Daisuke

(I think that he likes Tyler and finds him a music idol. Yeah, he watched all his old videos of when he was a vine-star)

Acts like a miniature tyler, the creator. "Look, all I'm saying is, music isn't bad. You're just not listening, right?" He'd complain to Jimmy who didn't understand his love for that type of 'Music.'

"That shit is trashy and offensive." He'd say with a disgusted face. Daisuke would turn around with a bland expression, and he'd scrunch his nose up, "I'm not gonna take this from someone who doesn't listen to music. Fuckin' Oldhat."

You were in tears. Swansea spit up coffee, and Anya turned on a swivel. Jimmy sat there looking embarrassed and confused. Daisuke turned his head back to his music and continue bobbing and listening as if he didn't say a word.

Bestfriend!Daisuke

There was a tiny power outage on the tulpar. You and Daisuke where daisuke locked in the storage room. "Shit! It's locked!?" You hyperventilate. Daisuke stood their, trying his card to open it. He bit his bottom lip and turned to you, "Y-yeah, are you scared?"

You stood their a bit shakey. Daisuke came to your side, worried about you. He rubbed your back, pulling you close for a hug.

"Hey, hey, it's alright! Curly will figure this out, and we'll be right as rain!" He said cheerfully. He held you for a good while as you slowly calmed down.

Fuck, now it was awkward. He was just holding you and not moving. Breathing slow and slightly swaying with the small movements of the ship.

He was your best friend, but right now, in this moment... you weren't sure.

Bestfriend!Daisuke

He smelled good. What was that flowery scent? Maybe it was you, but he felt really warm. You never really analyzed Daisuke, but you were close enough to now. He had a slight muscle texture, must be the boxes Swansea forces him to pick up. Shit made sense. He had so much youth, and Swansea was so old. His chest fell and rose with yours almost in sync.

You gasped when he pulled you closer by your waist, one hand in your hair rubbing your head. It was a tiny one. You were glad it wasn't caught by him.

"You good?" He asked you. You felt his words vibrate through his chest, making you smile unconsciously. "Yeah! All good! Just... a little longer, please?" You asked. He didn't move. he just swayed you back and forth.

Bestfriend!Daisuke

The sound of electricity surging through the tulper pulled you from your thoughts as the lights slowly flickered on. Daisuke pulled back, looking around at the lights before giving you a smile. "See? All fine! Told you! Right as rain!" He exclaimed, opening the door and leaving you with your thoughts.

Oh my god, he's hot... but he was your best friend...

Bestfriend!Daisuke (NSFW)

"Oh my fuckin~" He shivered. Daisuke was in shambles. He never held a girl that close! Not since he was in high school. Why did it feel so sensitive now? Your scent still lingered on his shirt. It wasn't weird if he-

Sniff

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, that was that shit right there. He took a deeper breath, the sweet scent mixing with his sent shock down his spine. One hand traveling to his aching groin. He couldn't believe he was gonna do this.. but you smelled so good, and you were so soft. How come he couldn't just have this?

He made his way to his bed to lay down. Rubbing and gripping his hard-on, he thought about the things he could've done to you if you two weren't best friends...

If you two were closer than that and the lights went out, he'd hold you if you asked. But from behind if you were facing that way. Sway with you, holding your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. Then he'd slowly start trailing kisses down your neck, smiling against your soft skin.

"Mngh~!" He whimpered, pulling his dick out to stroke slowly. His eyes unfocused, listening to the wet sounds he was creating off a sick thought.

Just your body against the wall, bent over and presenting yourself to him. His back arched instinctively, "Oh fuck~," stars danced across his vision. The thought of the sounds you'd make for him... he was tense.

"Daisuke~ Mm so scared, hold me~" You moaned. He'd love to grab your hair and just ram into you like a mad dog. You were so cute... scared of the dark? Cutie, how do you sleep without him?

He started gasping and stuttering for air. His body twitched before finishing on his stomach.

His head felt fuzzy. Eyes rolled back in ecstacy. It wasn't until he came down that he realized what he had just done.

He just came to the thought of you. All because he held you because you were scared of the dark!? He rubbed his hand on his shirt and cringed on the inside at the mess in his lap.

"Too much cum... wayy too much, Jesus fucking christ! I can't tell her, I can't she'll think I'm weird! And Swansea! Argh!" He groaned, hands on face and laying back down. "Ew! I thought I wiped it off!" He recoiled when his cum stained hand touched his face. Fuck, this as gonna be akward.... what the hell is he gonna do now?

Outside the room...

Curly was just walking past when he heard daisuke talking to himself. "-And Swansea! Argh!"

"What if he thinks I'm weird for liking my coworker!? Any how!? Fuckkk!" He yelled to himself.

Curly knew who he was talking about. Curly smiled, "Poor kiddos... There's about to be a lot of sneaking around from here on out huh?"

He continued his walk to the cockpit with a smile.

Prt 2?

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser two]

✩ series m.list | taglist form ✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s. ✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort ✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader ✩ word count: 1.4k | [full fic: tbd] ✩ rating: 18+. minors dni. ✩ warnings: a little more pining between husband!hee & wife!reader, a bit of outsider help. nothing explicit ✩ author's note: hello everyone! i just wanted to let you all know that i am trying my best to get this fic out before the end of the year (and if i don't, i do go on winter break from uni in early december! so we can expect a few fics in that time.) this being said, i will add a taglist link here as well as the series masterlist because i cannot for the life of me keep up with urls at the moment. the people tagged below have already been added to said taglist, but if you wanna jump on and don't see yourself tagged, please fill out the form linked above! thanks!

Heeseung knows that Dr. Bahng told him to leave work at work. However, Dr. Bahng said nothing about bringing home to work. He said nothing about thinking about you at work, or missing you, or daydreaming about you instead of analyzing the reports that a pair of rookies messed up. He also said nothing about reading articles by some sketchy romance columnist on how to keep your relationship alive, which is exactly what Heeseung was scrolling through right now. 

There are things in a relationship that must always be shared in order to avoid, or resolve conflict. How the other person is making you feel, how you are making them feel, and how to tackle both negative checklists properly. It is key to always remember that it must be you and your partner against the problem, not you and your partner against each other.

You make Heeseung feel…alive. You make him feel loved, cherished, and even at some bizarre times, worshiped. You make him appreciate waking up at the ass crack of dawn, your sleeping face relaxed as he peppers kisses across your warm skin – something he's thankful never manages to wake you up, but it adds to all the adoration he holds in his heart for you.

How does he make you feel? Dejected, neglected, rejected. Pushed aside for the true love of his life – work. You never bring it up unless he asks. You never brought it up until last July, when he was slumped in his office chair after drinking half a bottle of sherry whiskey, listening to music and thinking about yet another dead end that deterred him from finding Soyoung. You had approached him with a gentle gaze, a soft touch to his shoulder and asking about taking a shower together. You never questioned him, you never pressured him, you never tried to make him something you assumed he just wasn't – an attentive, doting husband.

And he remembers how he asked you, too. He remembers spinning around in his chair, asking you if he was everything you'd ever wanted. Asking you if he was living up to your expectations, as a husband, as a life partner, as a friend, even.

And he remembers the way you sighed carefully before perching on his desk. "You're everything I've ever wanted, and I'm sure you'll continue to grow and be even more deserving of the love I hold for you." You had smiled, your hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Nothing we can't work through, you know? If I was given a choice in another life, another world – I'd still choose you."

He will never forget it, and he can still feel the warmth of your lips against his as you led him to the bathroom. He can still feel the ache of your love on his skin from the way you held him under the running water, quietly basking in his presence as the mint of your shampoo filled his nose. Nothing is as special to him as you are. 

There are things that should routinely be shared in order to maintain a homeostasis of the calendar. Asking how their day was, if you have any ideas for dinner tonight, or if you'd like to do something this weekend to celebrate the mundane. It shouldn't be difficult to establish a routine with your partner, if you are in tune with them. A kiss goodbye in the morning, a warm embrace in the evenings. A shared meal, a shared bath, a shared bed. 

Heeseung can't remember the last time he fully checked in with you – you always have something to do. You always attempt new creative projects, and his fingers toy with the fabric of his slacks as he remembers that you hand stitched them. He thinks about how you waited for him all night yesterday, and the disappointment you must have felt when he arrived late. He thinks about how he just doesn't make time to tackle the problem that you two are constantly glossing over by being intimate – he knows you don't feel loved. 

He didn't ask you about your day yesterday, or the day before, or last week. He didn't ask you if you were sewing anything new, learning any new pieces on the piano collecting dust in the living room. He hasn't asked about your mother, but at least he knows you don't like to talk about her. 

Heeseung hasn't asked you a single thing about yourself, or your life, and he doesn't know how long it's been. Even last night, your eyes were focused entirely on him – the way his lips twitched when you said you liked the wine he chose, the way he pulled your leg over his in the booth you were sharing. You asked him about work, and he just shook his head as he pointed out the new menu items. 

You love him so selflessly.

Something that works for my partner and I is parallel play. We aren't necessarily doing something together, but we are present in the same room and doing our own thing. Knowing that he is there, and that if I need him, I can reach for him, adds a comfort to our relationship. Aside from this, we also come together every two weeks and address any issues we may be experiencing – both in our relationship and our individual lives. We resolve the issues about us together, and advise the other on our personal issues. Balance!

You do this a lot. If Heeseung is home, you'll wander to wherever he is and sit down where you can, and quietly go about your business. Sometimes it's a new cross-stitch, sometimes it's just putting a headphone in and listening to music. Sometimes you're giving yourself a pedicure, sometimes you're just sitting there staring at his corkboard of paraphernalia while matching your breathing to his. It was subtle, something you thought he'd never notice.

He sighs, exiting out of the tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. Tugging it on, he uses one hand to log out of his computer when he hears three knocks on the door. A lightness of the rapping knuckles similar to yours…and your smiling face appears as you crack open the door. "Surprise?" He hates that he can't bite back his smile, a few of his fellow officers wide-eyed at his expression. He nods silently, and you extend your hand for him when you hear his coworkers whispering about you. With a dejected look, you tuck your hand back into the pocket of your jeans, "Guess we don't want them gossiping, right?" "Right." He mumbles, his own hand twitching around the doorknob as he pulls it shut behind him. He wants to reach for you, embrace the warmth you bring, show you off to the people he often calls his friends. Sunghoon catches his eye, a quizzical look on his face before shaking his head. 

Heeseung reaches for you, but you've already made your way towards the door. Your smile has lessened as you open the door, holding it for him. "How was work?" You ask as he joins you in the cool air, and he wastes no time wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in close, his nose buried in your hair. You hesitate to wrap your arms around him, instead leaning back to try and meet his eyes. "Hee?" "Don't ask me about work." He mutters, before pressing his lips to yours softly. You let out a noise of surprise, but you can't melt into his touch before he pulls away. "I hate talking about work, let's talk about you. Over lunch." He takes your hand in his, gently pulling you to his side as he makes his way to the car. He doesn't see yours in the parking lot, so he only assumes you got a rideshare before you clear your throat. "Are you okay?" The words are slightly jumbled as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, helping you step in. "Hm? Why do you ask?"

"Well…you're actually out of the office. And you want to go to lunch…and you don't want to talk about work?" Your voice is meek, and it makes his chest ache as he reaches to buckle your seatbelt in for you. "I just want to spend time with you. Shall we?" His smile is a little forced, until he sees the soft gloss of embarrassment over your eyes. "Okay."

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

TAGLIST [those in red could not be tagged] @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @bbyjw @marimariiiiiiii @thenastone

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Here Before Morning

Prompt Day 1: Snowfall | Word Count: 578 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Established Relationship, Fluff, The Magic of First Snow

Eddie can smell the snow. It's not here yet, but it'll be here before morning, he's absolutely positive. In fact, he's pretty sure the smell of snow is his first memory. He assumes he had to have been no more than four or five, but he remembers his mom taking him outside, all bundled up in the yard, waiting. Together. The two of them just standing there, looking at the sky, soaking up that cold smell that was brand new to his little self, but has since remained seared into his brain.

It's a good memory, and if he can sense it coming, he'll always come out to welcome it in.

He pulls his coat tighter across his back, shoving his hands deep into the pockets. It's cold. Really cold, and he tilts his head back and inhales deeply, closing his eyes.

"Brrr. What are you doing out here?" Steve asks, after cracking open the back sliding door. Eddie opens his eyes and looks over at him to see Steve shivering as the winter air hits his bare skin.

"I smelled snow," Eddie explains.

And Steve nods, hair sticking up all over the place, then he's tugging the sliding glass door back closed.

And Eddie closes his eyes again, waiting.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve turns up. Dressed, a mug of coffee cupped between his hands. 

Eddie turns and smiles at him, "You didn't have to come out. It's too cold."

Steve looks so tired. He's got his glasses on, and his biggest, warmest sweater. Eddie thinks he looks cozy like this, beautiful in a way that feels effortless, and real. But then again, to Eddie, Steve always does.

Eddie will never be sure how he got this lucky in life. It always seemed like he was destined to be fucked by life at every turn. And then Steve arrived, covered in blood and bat bites, determined to save him.

He did. In more ways than one.

But mainly just by loving him. Eddie's luck, the shitty, hard life he felt helplessly destined for, had finally turned tides.

And it had everything to do with Steve Harrington, white knight in a bloodied battle vest, Eddie is absolutely certain. 

"You got a timeline on this snow?" Steve asks, stifling a yawn, as he hands over his mug, sharing it with Eddie. They definitely don't take their coffee the same, but Steve's left this cup black, Eddie's preference, not his own.

Eddie looks at the sky, as if he's making predictions:

"Seventeen minutes, thirty-two seconds," Eddie answers.

"Really?" Steve asks, looking like he doesn't believe Eddie. Which he damn well shouldn't. Eddie's just talking out of his ass, as always.

"No, I'm not that good," Eddie laughs. 

And Steve looks his way, eyes all soft in a way that always gets Eddie, "I don't know, you seem that good to me. You've got that magic."

Eddie grins back at him, leaning over and pressing his lips to Steve's.

"It's early," Steve mumbles against his mouth, and Eddie starts to ask what's early.

But then he feels it.

The first brush of wetness, and then more and more damp kisses of snow land and melt on his skin.

Steve pulls back, and Eddie looks up, watching as the snowflakes fill the night sky, illuminated by the streetlamps.

"See?" Steve says, "Magic."

And Eddie laughs, spinning around, opening his mouth, trying to catch some of the falling snowflakes on his tongue.

Magic, indeed.

Notes: Definitely inspired by Lorelai Gilmore and her sixth sense for the first snow of the year.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ❄️

[gurokiitty]

Hiii! I read your Jimmy fanfic and I absolutely love it so so so much.

I was really curious as to if you could do a babysitter! jimmy x reader, where reader is Curly’s younger sibling and, despite them being of age, Curly is adamant on them being babysat (just in case because he’s a caring brother ☺️) and Jimmy comes to babysit the reader. They order pizza, put on a Christmas movie and get cosy under a blanket. Jimmy starts to get handsy under the blanket and it ends with the Reader sucking Jimmy off on the living room couch.

Thought a sort of Christmassy fanfic would be good this time of year :3

Lots of love, 🌺 ~🫶🫶

a/n : i'm giggling n kicking my feet, anon <33 i love this idea! thank you for your request :3 AND HAPPY HOLIDAYSSS

DON'T TELL

{ babysitter! jimmy x f! reader ]

word count : 1594

warnings/tags : DUBCON, legal age-gap, pre-tulpar, reader is curly's adopted sister, implied incest, groping, rough n messy throatfucking.

You didn't know what you expected, but it wasn’t him. When you opened the door, he was there—leaning lazily against the frame, all wiry angles and slouching indifference.

Jimmy, you’d assumed, though the man standing on your porch was a far cry from the image you’d pieced together in your mind. The stories your brother told painted him as someone reliable—maybe even admirable, in Curly’s own begrudging way.

But the real Jimmy looked like he’d been scraped off the bottom of a gas station parking lot. His leather jacket was cracked and scuffed, so fatigued it shone in patches. His hair was slicked back, greasy enough to catch the dim porch light like an oil spill. His jaw was shadowed with dark stubble, and his eyes—so dark they almost swallowed the whites—flicked over you with a quick, cutting assessment.

“Curly’s sister?” he asked finally, the cigarette smouldering between his fingers leaving a faint trail of smoke that curled in the frosty air.

You nodded, though something uneasy had stirred in your chest. “Yeah,” you managed, your voice thinner than you wanted. “That’s me.”

You stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could think better of it. “Come in.”

“Little old for a babysitter, don’t you think?” he drawled, stepping over the threshold as the faint scent of sweat and smoke trailed after him.

He was right—you weren’t a kid, and yet here you were, playing host to someone Curly had insisted on sending to keep an eye on you. It felt absurd, letting this wolfish man into your home just because your brother trusted him. And yet, you did, because trust in your brother was second nature.

Now, the two of you sit on the couch, the glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the room. The Christmas movie you’d picked plays in the background, all twinkling lights and syrupy holiday cheer, but your focus has drifted elsewhere.

It had started innocently enough—Jimmy stretched out at one end of the couch, you curled at the other, a safe distance between you. But slowly, inexorably, he’s crept closer, his presence consuming more and more of the space around you like mould festering, proliferating, spreading to places that were once unspoiled. His knee brushes against yours, then lingers. The blanket you’d wrapped around yourself is now shared, his hand tugging it over his lap as though it had been his all along.

You barely register the movie anymore—some forgettable scene flashing on the screen, colours bleeding into each other without meaning. The warmth of his body radiates through the layers of fabric between you, but it’s his hand that holds your attention. It rests lightly against your thigh beneath the blanket, his fingers splayed just enough to make your breath waver. He doesn’t look at you—his eyes remain fixed on the screen, disinterested, as though his touch is incidental, meaningless.

But it’s not meaningless—not when it shifts higher, grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You should say something, do something, but you sit frozen, your breath shallow, your hands clutching the blanket as though it could shield you. His fingers inch upward, a silent threat to claim the space between your thighs.

“Ever been touched like this before?” he murmurs, his raspy voice cutting through the music on-screen. He finally turns to look at you, his lips stretching into something that resembles a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You swallow hard, your voice barely audible. “My brother—” The words tumble out, an incoherent plea. "He'd be so angry... I don't..."

Jimmy's eyes narrow, his fingers digging a bit harder into your soft flesh like a warning. "Then don't tell him."

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips capturing yours with a force that steals your breath. The kiss is all tobacco and heat, and it leaves your head spinning. Your hands hover uselessly in the space between you, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, your brother's voice echoes—a reminder, a warning—but it’s drowned out by the way Jimmy’s free hand drifts higher, his palm pressing against your chest through the thin fabric of your shirt.

Your body betrays you, your hips shifting, grinding subtly against the palm he’s pressed between your legs as the blanket falls to the floor. The friction sends a jolt of sensation through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, shame and desire warring. Curly would hate you if he knew, you think desperately. He’d never forgive you. But even that thought isn’t enough to make you pull away.

When Jimmy finally releases you, there’s a faint trail of saliva connecting your lips, glistening like honey. He grips the back of your head, his fingers tangling roughly in your hair, as his other hand fumbles hastily with his belt. The metallic jingle is sharp, invasive, and your stomach knots as he pushes his jeans down just enough to free himself.

“You worked me up,” he mutters, his voice rough, cracking slightly at the edges like something about to snap. "Now you’ve gotta finish the job." His hand tightens, and he pushes your head down toward his lap—toward his hardening cock.

The world narrows to the feel of his hand gripping the back of your head and the press of his fingers biting into your scalp. His scent curls inside you like a living thing, nauseating and strangely intoxicating. The fabric of his jeans is rough against your cheek as you shift, your lips parting hesitantly over his leaky head.

Salty precum stains your tongue before you can think to resist—his palm driving you down his length. Your warm, wet mouth envelops him, his girth stretching your lips as he invades your throat. He worms his way deeper, making you cough and sputter around him, your trembling fingers seeking the edge of the couch for support.

He’s unrelenting, pushing you down until your nose grazes the coarse hair at the base. Your lungs burn as you struggle to keep up, the pace frantic and uncaring, and you can feel spit beginning to drip from the corners of your mouth, pooling in a glossy mess between you. Your body shudders, muscles straining against the force, but he only growls low in his throat, moving you like a doll in his hands.

His fingers knot tighter, and he begins to guide you up and down, each motion sharper than the last. For a moment, your resistance slackens entirely, your head moving in time with the jerking motions of his hips.

His pelvis lifts slightly, an unspoken command, and you obey, your movements automatic, practiced. You can feel your cheeks hollow with effort as you take him deeper still, your lips brushing against his base with each downward stroke.

The slick sounds meld with the movie playing, obscene and rhythmic, each bob of your head sending a fresh wave of spit down your chin. You swirl your tongue around him with precision, tracing patterns you know by rote, and he groans above you, his fingers tightening as he presses you down further, deeper. His chest rises and falls heavily, his breaths jagged, and you can feel the heat of his shaft pulse against your tongue.

"F-Fuck, where’d you learn to suck cock like this, huh?" Jimmy pants, his hips stuttering as your motions turn quicker, more deliberate.

The words lodge in your chest, clawing at your ribs. Your stomach churns, and for a moment, you falter. Your brother's name blooms in your thoughts unbidden, sharp and sour like bile rising in your throat. It’s there, screaming inside your head, his voice intertwined with the memory of his hands—guiding, demanding, teaching.

Jimmy’s grip on you tightens as if sensing your hesitation, dragging you back to the present—to the bitter saltiness coating your tongue and the searing stretch of your throat. “Hey,” he growls, "I didn't tell you to stop."

Your body responds before your mind catches up, your head dipping again, lips sealing around him with renewed vigour. You move faster now, your tongue fanning over the underside of his cock, pulling needy sounds from him that vibrate in your ears. Your hands find his thighs, nails digging into denim as you try to steady yourself, spittle and mucus bubbling from your nose and mouth, trailing in sticky threads down your jaw.

He holds you there, his breathing ragged as he thrusts shallowly into your throat. You can feel his thighs tense, quivering beneath your fingers as the muscles in his stomach coil tight like a spring. He throws his head back, a steady groan escaping him as his release surges down your constricting throat in thick, pulsing streams.

It floods your mouth, hot and acrid, and you gag as it forces its way through. You tap desperately against his leg, your glassy eyes fluttering open in a silent plea. Finally, he lets you go, and you lurch back, coughing violently as you drag in a breath that burns all the way down. Strings of milky white trail from your lips, and some of it escapes your nostrils to trickle in sticky rivulets down your chin.

Your tangled hair clings to the dampness of your face as you sputter, choking out thick globs of spit and cum. Jimmy leans back against the couch, his breath still heavy, and watches you with a smug curl to his lips. "Shit—if I knew you were such a little slut, I would've babysat more often."

[bingbongsupremacy]

Pt. 2

Pairing: Father! Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: I have never been on a tour bus. I've done a bit of research so I have an idea of what they look like. The bus portions might not be completely accurate, especially since they're supposed to be from the 1980-90's. Sorry if it's not 100% accurate. Also swearing.

Series Summary: Years ago you and Eddie used to be friends. After you graduated, you two fell out of contact. After years of not speaking to each other, Eddie offers you a job you can't resist; be a nanny for his little girl.

Part Summary: It's time to start your new job; nannying for the child of a rock star.

*Not Proof Read*

Tag List: @maskofmirrors @saucypeanuttt @hugdealer

Pt.1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

******

Was this a good idea?

I stare up at the large bus looming over me. It casts a shadow over my body, leaving me feeling cold.

Can I handle this? I've never been away from Hawkins for longer than a few months. What if something goes wrong? What if I get fired?

" You can come in, ya know. " Eddie's voice startles me.

I look over at the previously empty door frame. Eddie's chest and head peek past the shiny black door frame. His style hasn't changed a bit. Still the same old Eddie.

Or is it?

" I promise we don't bite. " Eddie's voice is playful. It's comforting. Familiar.

" I hope. I'm really not interested in getting rabies anytime soon. " I joke back, trying to shake off the uneasiness. Eddie wouldn't hurt me. Not with his kid on board. Plus, I grew up with the other guys. They might look scary but I could beat their asses if it really came down to it.

Eddie's laugh is exactly the same. Warm and smooth, something that's so easy to listen to and get lost in. Something you want to hear over and over again.

Eddie moves out of the way so I can get onto the bus. " I was worried you got lost. Sorry I couldn't pick you up today. Rose decided it was the perfect day to get get marker on every possible portion of her skin. "

I let out a small laugh at the sight of Eddie's slightly frustrated sigh. " Oh no. "

He cracks a small smile. " Don't worry, I was able to get it all off. She's slightly less green now. I hope it wasn't too stressful getting here. "

As he talks Eddie leads me towards the back of the bus.

This place if fucking huge. I mean, they are global rockstars. Why wouldn't it be?

I had no idea a bus could hold this much stuff. It's basically a mini apartment. Everything looks brand new. The leather couches are glossy and luxurious, something I definitely couldn't afford on my own.

" It wasn't that bad. It's kinda hard to miss a huge bus in the middle of Hawkins. I mean, we don't get much action down here. But you know that, duh. You lived. " I don't know why I feel so awkward. So nervous. It's the new environment, it has to be. I'll get used to it.

We pass a few rows of what I assume are bunks. Clothes are scattered along the floor and partially hanging out of a few of the bunks. This is definitely where Gareth, Doug and Jeff sleep.

" This is the boy's area. " My suspicions confirmed. " Fuck. " Eddie mutters, nearly tripping over a hidden pile of magazines. " I told them to clean this shit up earlier. Obviously they don't listen. " Eddie reaches down and snags one of the partially open magazines off of the ground.

A nearly naked woman holding an open notebook to cover her chest stares back up at him.

" I'm gonna have to talk to him about this. Jeff can't just have this shit lying around in the open when Rosie's on the bus. " Eddie chucks the magazine into one of the bunks, shaking his head in disapproval.

We finally get to the last section of the bus, a separated room. " I just wanted to let you know about a few of the rules I have for Rosie. " He pulls a small slip of paper out of his black ripped jeans. " I didn't know if I should make a list. I've never really had a nanny before. I figured it's better safe than sorry. " His eyes scan over the ripped white sheet in his hands. The back has streaks of green and blue, something I'm guessing is curtesy of Rose.

" I really want to try to get her to bed at 8. 8:30 at most. I've been a bit lax about it the past few days since we're trying to adjust to the whole tour bus thing, but I read that structure's like really important for a kid so I'm trying to do that. As much as I can I mean. It's a little difficult on tour. " He lets out a small tired laugh. The past few days have definitely taken a toll on him.

" I get that. I'll do my best to get her to bed on time. " I reassure him, hoping to take some of the stress off of his plate.

" Thanks. " His eyes meet mine. " That'd really help me out a ton. I'm trying to keep cursing away from Rose. So please no curse words around her. "

" Oh my, Gareth, Doug, and Jeff not swearing? That's a first for sure. " I say in slight disbelief. I never thought I'd see the day.

Eddie chuckles. " It's a struggle. They slip up sometimes. I do too. It's hard not to, but I really don't want Rose to end up being that kid who curses in every sentence in class. At least not until high school. " Eddie hands the small slip of paper to me. " She's not allowed to have any photos taken of her. I understand that's going to be hard with the fuck-sorry, freaking paparazzi, but just maybe try to cover her face or something if they manage to find us or see her. People know what she looks like so if something does manage to get taken, I'm not going to flip out. I just don't feel comfortable with her face being everywhere on anything. "

I nod. " I completely understand. I wouldn't want my kid's pictures out there like that. I'll do what I can. "

" Thanks. Alright, I think that's really it right now. If something comes up I'll let you know. " Eddie opens the door and immediately a small head pokes out from one of the curtains blocking what I'm guessing are the beds. " This is the bunk room where everyone sleeps.

" You! " Rose squeaks, pointing a small finger at me. She jumps out of the bottom bunk she's on before launching herself in our direction. The small bunny from before is still tightly clutched under her arm, this time it's got a plastic pink necklace around it's neck and a bright purple bow squishing the two ears together. " Hi. " She grins up at me.

Faded green lines cover the tops of her hands. She's dressed in a small princess-like outfit, a stark contrast in color to the mostly dark bus.

Like her, her bunk is covered by a princess themed curtain, the only curtain that's a color other than black.

I smile down at the small girl. " Hey, Rose. How are you today? " I ask, bending slightly to meet her eye level.

" Good! I-I have a tea party wif- wif daddy and den we ated cookies! " She exclaims. " Daddy leted (Let) me play wif his gui-guigar (guitar) today too! "

Eddie chuckles, ruffling the wild curls of the little girl. " It's guitar, baby. "

" That's what I said! " She sasses, her face crinkling into an annoyed pout.

Eddie rolls his eyes. " This child. "

" I wonder where she gets that from. " I tease the man.

He places a hand on his heart. " Well, I have no idea. Couldn't be me. It hurt you'd assume I'm the dramatic one. " He pouts dramatically. His pout is nearly identical to the mini him standing inches away from us.

There's no way in hell someone could think they're not related. From the attitude to the hair, the genetics stand strong.

" This is your bunk. It's right above Rosie's. Your shelves are right here. " He pulls out three shelves on the right side of the bunks. " And this is your closet. " He gestures to the taller portion up top. " I'm right across from Rosie and usually the bunk up top is used for storage unless we have an extra guest or something. " Eddie leans back against his bunk. " It's a little tight in here but it's only temporary. We'll be outta here in a day or so and on our way to Texas. "

I pull open the curtain that hides my bed. A small fully made bed sits on the other side. A portable lamp sits neatly tucked in the top corner by a fluffed-out pillow. It's tight but there's still enough room to move around a bit. " Are we flying? " I ask curiously. I assumed that at some point or another, we'd be flying. That's something that's made me a bit anxious. I've never been on a plane before.

" Yeah-Whoa! " Eddie lets out a surprised gasp.

Rose giggles as she clings to her father's tattoo-covered arms. He's upgraded from the small stick n pokes to a few larger pieces. " Daddy I jumpted good. "

Eddie pulls Rose up to his chest, tightly hugging her while playfully swinging her around. " Yah you did kiddo. " He says with amusement in his tone. His gaze returns back to me. " I bought you tickets for all of the flights and rooms at the hotels we're staying at so everything is covered. "

" Thank you. " I smile at the guy.

He's changed. He seems...calmer. Less reckless than the kid I knew years ago. Having Rose' has probably changed that. He's mature now.

" Of course, you're doing me a huge favor. " He gently sets his kid back onto the ground. " By the way, if you need anything, please let me know. I can get it for you. Or let our assistant Gina know. She's got one of my cards too. "

" I feel like I'm getting more out of this than you are. " I say softly. " You're giving me so much. I feel bad for taking all of your money. "

Eddie shakes his head, his curles flying out. " You don't need to feel bad for anything. I promise. You're gonna help me out so much. I was stressing so bad trying to find someone to help with Rose. I was so worried I wouldn't find someone in time. I'm just giving you the resources to help you guys live comfortably. And you're not spending all of my money. I promise you. I wouldn't be doing all of this if I couldn't afford to. " Eddie says honestly.

" Thanks Ed. " I send him a small smile.

A part of me still feels a little bad but the other part is so excited. I've never done anything like this before. I can't wait to see what happens.

" The guys will be back from the gas station anytime soon and then we'll hit the road. It's probably best if you get all of your stuff put away so you're not flying around back here when we take off. " Eddie reaches into Rose' bunk where she's retreated back into. She lets out a loud squeal as she's pulled into the light by her father, her hands gripping tightly onto two small dolls.

" Daddy! "

Eddie chuckles at her frustrated shout. " I'm going to take this one on a walk to get her jitters out so she doesn't destroy the bus while we're on the road. " Eddie tickles Rose' tummy. " Isn't that right, baby? You're full of energy, aren't ya? Aren't ya? " His voice switches into a baby voice as he pulls his face close to his daughters.

She lets out a loud belly laugh. " No! Daddy Stop! " She shouts in between giggles.

Eddie sets Rose on his hip, careful not to bump her into anything. " We'll be back. " He says before leading her back to the enterence of the bus.

I watch as they walk away, a smile on my face.

This is going to be interesting.

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.

pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.2k

tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo

chapter warnings: smut, infidelity

Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.

"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"

"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."

"That's rich, coming from you."

William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.

"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.

"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.

"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.

"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."

---

Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.

"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"

The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."

With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.

She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.

Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.

"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.

"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.

"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.

"What is this?" Kate asked.

"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."

Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.

"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."

Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.

A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.

"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.

Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.

Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.

"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"

That's when Kate fainted.

When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.

A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."

"Your what?" Kate asked.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.

"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."

"Oh? Might I try some?"

"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.

He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.

Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."

The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."

Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.

She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"A bit," Kate admitted.

"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."

Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"

His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.

She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."

Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.

She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.

"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.

"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."

So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.

"I'm close," Kate moaned.

"Good girl."

He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.

It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.

"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.

---

When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.

"What was your favorite part?" He asked.

"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."

"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.

"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[writinghotchner]

migraine in progress, temporarily out of order

pairing: aaron hotchner x gn!reader (no pronouns used for reader) rating: E tags/warnings: mentions of headache/migraine, feeling bad in general, no use of "y/n"

----

this is completely self indulgent >:) i have a literal splitting headache and i would cry about it but thatd just make things worse so im just gunna struggle write :') if only i had a big strapping man to......................help me..................

when the alarm next to your bed goes off, you feel a crack of lightning strike through your skull and rattle your teeth. it jolts through your spine and for a second you're actually afraid to open your eyes. the light that's barely shining into your window through your eyelids is enough to make your retinas feel like they're going to sizzle out of your skull.

you fling your blanket over your head and let out a shaky sigh. headaches and migraines aren't super rare for you, but you get them enough to know that you are going to be miserable and useless for the next few hours, if not the entire day.

you slither your hand out to stop the loud, shrieking screams of your alarm, only to find that it's not your phone going off. you crack open an eye to look at your phone to make sure and slam it shut with a sigh.

you manage to roll over and shake aaron, who mumbles something and turns it off, and then rolls back over to engulf you in his sleepy, heavy arms.

you stay like that for a few moments before you feel the bed dip and hear him patter across the bedroom floor to the bathroom. it somehow sounds like it's echoing in your brain, making you wince and screw your eyes closed tighter. the thought of moving at all makes you want to throw up but you figure if you can get your head under your pillow, maybe the sounds will muffle enough to leave you alone.

you manage it, squeezing the pillow to your ear, some of the pressure barely easing the pain. you remember your hair is up in a bun and struggle with wanting to take it down for some extra relief or just leaving it alone.

you leave it because there's no way you can move again without actually having your brain sear its way through your skull and onto you freshly washed sheets.

it's taking everything you have to not cry, the annoyance of it all being too much. but you know if you start crying, you won't be able to stop and it will definitely make your headache so, so, so much worse.

after a few minutes of you trying to breathe through the pain, you feel aaron's presence in front of you and then immediately hear is hushed voice.

"honey?" he asks. he slides his hand under the blanket and rests it on the arm you have draped over the pillow, running his thumb over your warm skin.

you mumble a pathetic sound to acknowledge him and that's enough for him to know that you're in pain; you had a pretty bad migraine a few months ago and he can only assume that's what's happening now. you feel his arm move away from you and you can tell, even through the blanket and closed eyes, that he's drawn the curtains on the windows closed to help keep out the light.

he's back in front of you again, squatting next to the bed. "can you take the blanket off your head for a minute? you don't have to open your eyes, i just want to make sure you don't have a fever."

"don't." is all you can manage, and you hope he somehow knows you mean you don't have a fever and not "don't take off the blanket".

he waits a moment, before he peels the blanket off the top of your body and gently moves the pillow out of your death grip. you squeeze your eyes shut against the room, the light still too much for your pounding head. you have tears clinging to the seams of your eyes, and you feel him wipe them away as best as he can. he rests the back of his hand against your forehead and then feels your cheeks afterwards. no fever. he moves the pillow back and drapes the blanket of your head and you hear him get up and start to move away from you so you once again mumble a pitiful noise.

"do you want an ice pack or the heating pad?" his voice is barely a whisper but you can hear it like he's being projected inside your skull with surround sound on full volume.

you open your mouth to answer but it's too much and you immediately shut it and squeeze the pillow tighter to your skull. you feel his hand back on your skin a few seconds later. "tap my hand once for the ice pack and twice for the heating pad."

you use your free hand to squeeze his hand and then tap once. your bones already feel like they're on fire, there's no way the heating pad will not make you feel like your swimming in your own personal fire lake in hell.

you hear him leave and it feels like he's gone for an eternity before you hear him shuffle his socked feet back over to you.

"okay," he says softly. "i know you don't want to, but i need to remove the pillow and blanket."

you feel the blanket being lifted off of you and you curl further into yourself, clinging to the pillow that you still have pressing into your ear.

"i have an eye mask for you, i'll put it on you as soon as you let go of the pillow. and then i can turn you over away from the window and put the icepack on your neck. okay? tap my hand whenever you want me to start."

you want to cry because of the pain, sure, but the fact that your boyfriend is going out of his way to help you when you know he should be getting ready for work is not only the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, but also making you feel guilty because he is definitely going to be late for work.

also, when and where did he get an eye mask?

you take in a shaky breath and tap his hand. "okay." he says. you feel him start to pull the pillow off your head and you flinch, holding the pillow somehow closer and harder to your head.

aaron huffs out a small laugh. "honey..."

you reluctantly let go of it and he's quick to roll you over to face away from the window. you feel like your brain is sloshing around in your skull and it makes the pounding so much worse, but then you feel the ice pack at the base of your skull and you sigh in relief. it's going to take some time to work, but at least for now, you can focus on the uncomfortableness of the cold and not the gun fight that's ricocheting around your skull.

"i'm going to put the eye mask on you, so i have to lift your head for a second okay? i'm sorry."

you moan in pain when you feel him lift your head and settle the thin strap around your head. he realizes your hair is still in a bun, so he quickly pulls the band out and massages your scalp a little before he he softly places your head back down on the mattress and apologizes again. thankfully, the mask doesn't feel too tight and you sigh a little bit in relief when both of your eyes are completely blanketed in darkness.

you feel his hand smooth over your hair and then feel his warm lips against your forehead. "i have to make a phone call, but i'll be back in five minutes to remove the ice pack. we'll try the five minutes on, five minutes off method to see if it eases the pain any." you barely shake your head yes and then you feel him leave you.

~~~*~~~*~~~~*

you manage to fall back asleep, the cold from the ice pack and the sheer darkness that envelopes your eyes doing you wonders. your head still throbs, but it doesn't feel nearly as bad as it did before. it definitely feels like more than five minutes have passed and you take a risk to move the eye mask to look around.

the room is darker than it was before you went to sleep. the ice pack, you realize is gone and there's a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen sitting on aaron's night stand. you manage to pull off the mask and slowly sit up. your head has a dull ache to it, but thankfully it doesn't feel like your skull is going to split open anymore.

as you sit up, you rub your palms into your eyes. you roll your eyes around to test if that's going to make things worse or not. when you realize that your eyes don't hurt, you reach over for the water and pills in hopes to knock the rest of the dull ache out of your head.

you check the clock real quick, confused as to why the room seems darker than it should be, afraid that you somehow managed to sleep the entire day away. it's only noon. you barely remember his alarm going off at eight. you look over at the window to see that at some point, aaron had come in and draped a black sheet over the window. that brings a small smile to your face. but that quickly falters when you realize he must've called in to work to stay home with you. you slowly stand up to go find him but as if right on cue, he walks into the room.

"work?" was all you could manage.

"i called in. we don't have an active case and i would've just been sitting with jj in the office all day doing consults for nearby cases that didn't require us to be on the scene." he makes his way over to you and sits down on the bed. "jj and i did a zoom call and worked for the last few hours while you slept. it's all good."

you rest your head against his shoulder and he runs a hand over your thigh. "how do you feel?"

"better." you kiss his shoulder. "thank you."

he kisses the top of your head. "you don't ever have to thank me for taking care of you."

you hum a small laugh. "are you busy now?"

you feel him shake his head 'no'. "what do you need?"

"you."

he rolls his eyes playfully at that. he falls back onto the mattress, taking you with him and pulling you so that you're on top of him. you're quick to bury your face into his neck, placing a few soft kisses there before you thank him again. you hold him hostage in a koala hug for as long as you can before you realize you need to pee and he needs to get back to work.

[noa-ciharu]

Alternatively: fyosig + 36

fyosig + "please don't leave me behind"

Post Meursault, angst, hurt/questionable comfort, religious symbolism, sort of brainwashed Sigma

- - - - - - - -

Last thing Fyodor expected is to be tracked down in the back of beyond, much less by Sigma.

Peculiar indeed. But warranted reason for alarm? Not so much, or at all if he's to be candid. After all Sigma did read all his memories, not too implausible to presume he put wits to good use and figured out his whereabouts on very own. Impressive Fyodor had to remark - if not served as an immaculate litmus test. Not necessarily of Sigma's capabilities and lengths he's willing to go, those are nothing groundbreaking. But of Sigma's irrefutably wheedled decision - spoke of all darkest hues he managed to smear on the once blank canvas.

Dozen seconds ticked by in suspensive silence. Sigma stared at him with those vacant yet fiery eyes, at sixes and sevens. Fyodor didn't rush him anyhow - best to give Sigma illusion of freedom, although judging by how spent he looked Fyodor assumed that by this point Sigma can see through all of his smokes and mirrors.

Accented inhale. Tone eerily flat. Simultaneously clash of emotions and none at all on features - "I know everything"

Of course he does. That came as no surprise; what did is that Sigma felt the need to remind him of that. Fyodor crossed legs, tipped head and offered a meak smile Sigma should know by now serves just to disarm. "So you do", affirmed Fyodor while staring right up into oddly unguarded eyes. "But you've surely didn't come all the way here to tell me just that" - surely there's an ax to grind, but judging by confusion flashing over Sigma's twisted face it's not too far fetched to assume he's knocked out for six.

So no, not even Sigma himself knew why he sought him out. Itch for him became hardwired - no matter how much Sigma fought the newly found impulse he needed him like oxygen to breathe. Akin to moth to the flame Sigma will always be draw to the one that burned the life he used to know to the very ground.

"I..."

Pause followed by couple stressed sighs. Lips twisted and quivered, chest heaving in dire struggle for breath, eyes snapped shut with force that had to sting - inner conflict was manifest. Much to his credit Fyodor kept expression impassive; best to neither insult via glaringly fake consideration nor unnerve via brutal honesty. Considering everything Sigma went through in his memories this level of lucidity was to be applauded instead.

Frowning Sigma clasped both sides of his head and groaned - "Ugh, my head feels like a mess", kneaded forehead and huffed, likely wishing to cast away his presence from mind - futile endeavor, by this point he was engraved in every fiber of Sigma's being. Like clockwork he admitted just that - "Ever since that cursed day I couldn't get you out of my mind"

Your curiosity had a price tag on it, Fyodor wished to wise off but kept poke behind teeth. No need to fan the flames, especially when Sigma was on the brink of cracking; nothing but an empty shelf of former self. Greed got the best of him. In accordance, his freedom was clipped away. Every sin calls for a punishment, just because he didn't take over Sigma's body didn't mean there aren't other ways in which he can consume a greedy soul whole.

Sigma took a step backwards; then wobbled forwards, subliminally drawn by him and him only. "Your presence has engulfed me", heavy breath, foggy eyes, skin unhealthily wan - perplexed like this Sigma painted rather drained picture. Child's play to forge into a perfect weapon, however Fyodor knew a prod too firm could topple fragile mind pass the point of return - if he's to take this one into his embrace he'd need to thread carefully for regular manipulation would no longer cut it. By this point it's not even a matter of whether Sigma would take his hand or not, just when he'd realize caving in is inevitable.

"Gosh, what have you done to me?!", snarling Sigma paced back and forth; rocked throbbing head between arms and tried to soothe himself; to no avail. "No matter how much I try", sharp inhale, Sigma threw head back and combed fingers through hair; likely pucked out few strands from stress alone. "I cannot stop viewing life from your twisted perspective"

Ah, there it is, symphony to his ears. "That's a given", snickered Fyodor, allowing ounce of sadism to seap onto surface; insulting to keep the mask of benevolence after Sigma drank in his every cruelty. Thence Fyodor let devilty touch smile, in contrast kept tone mellow - "After all you've never taken in that magnitude of information" so it's only natural I tainted your sense of identity to the point where you cannot distinguish your thoughts from mine.

For a split second Sigma looked at him like he's not even human - no, not a devil either but something divine that transcends life itself. Atypical sure considering he never elicited anything but fear or anger in that timid yet assertive gaze, but also not surprising. Sigma's life divided in before and after; this one in front of his eyes is the fool who let the devil in on that faithful day; as result lost himself. In spite of godlike ability God he's not, merely one bestowed with His mission of bringing harmony to the entropy. But for Sigma's entranced eyes Fyodor would gladly become one.

In an instant reverence evaporated, leaving nothing but spark in weary eyes that surely would be rekindled. "I know you're up to no good", Sigma hissed and glared, but jab lacked the bite; crystal clear he's desperately clinging to last threds of life he used to know. Biting inside of mouth Sigma rewarded him with another meak scowl, only spoke volumes of how torn he's inside. "I know you'll inevitably end up using me again", accusation yet it came off as more of a wail.

Smart man, that Fyodor had to give it to him; but again foreseeable considering Sigma knew him down to the wire now - quite the strange sensation Fyodor had to admit, however nothing to lose sleep over; upper ground is still and forever will be his to claim. Transitory he toyed with idea of deception; promising Sigma to never lead him on again. With a shrug opted out of it. "It'd be insulting to lie to you after everything", explained Fyodor inaptly lightly considering gravity of the topic. "After all you are the one who knows me the best", flashing a roguish smile he finally stood up and strode towards his unwilling worshiper.

Rather than flinching or showing disdain Sigma appeared strangely relieved for a heartbeat by their close proximity - as if subliminally craving his presence, tactile presence, after being exposed only to indoctrinating memories. "And in spite of all that...", thin voice, head bent low. Sigma squeezed eyes and heaved. "I wish I could hate you", went off the tangent. "But I'd be hating myself in process" - because separating 'you' and 'I' is no longer feasible.

For a second Fyodor weighted the idea of patting Sigma's shoulder and consoling; not even as a part of deception but merely to have him calm down. Much to Fyodor's surprise Sigma beat him up to it - curled arms around Fyodor's frame, shoved coat down shoulders, cried out and threw himself in his embrace.

Ah, so you do have it in you to take me off guard. Silent sobbing, light shaking; hard to tell if Sigma burst in tears but definitely was distraught. Despite being stunned Fyodor found himself smiling; knew right away this one is hopelessly trapped in his web of lies - ironically constructed of nothing but truth, but with mind distorted beyond remedy Sigma couldn't distinguish own projections from reality.

"I know it's pointless to demand sincerity from you", faint hush, Fyodor more felt his chest move than heard the words, nonetheless could tell exhaustion and anguish in tone. In turn he embraced back; hummed into crown of Sigma's head and combed fingers through hair, just to coax Sigma into revealing more.

"But can you promise me one thing?"

Even if I do, how could you ever trust a word of a liar? By this point Sigma should know better than anyone else to expect honestly from him, admitted so himself moments prior - yet like a fool still held onto hope. If there's one thing Fyodor found admirable, albeit sinfully foolish about humans it's how unbreakable their spirits are - surely entertaining, but far and in between were ones worth his while.

Rather than offering any response Fyodor just chuckled; kept on caressing the trembling frame, privately savoring warmth of another human being in his arms - in all sincerity forgot how touch void of malicious intent even feels. Closing eyes he pressed lips against Sigma's temple. After this I won't let you go even to very death itself.

"Whatever you do please don't leave me behind ever again"

[fizziepopangel]

* Author's note: Hey, everyone! I know I've been slacking on posting, but I'm definitely getting back into writing and I'm happy to give you guys this Alastor fic! Please do keep in mind that English is the only language I speak fluently though, so I did my best to translate two phrases into Creole via Google translate and internet research, so forgive me if I botched it and let me know kindly if I need to fix it. Also, as usual, I don't know the artist for the drawing so if anyone knows, please let me know so I can tag them. Other than that, enjoy!! ~ Fizzie

P. S. "Mwen manke ou"= I miss you, "Mwen renmen ou manman"= I love you, mama

Mama's Boy

Alastor woke up feeling… off somehow. His heart felt heavier for some reason, and although he still wore his signature smile, he felt no joy within himself as he walked the halls of the hotel today; not even when Husk slipped on Niffty’s freshly waxed floors and crashed into the hall table. And everyone had noticed it. He heard the whispers, saw the strange looks they all gave him as he passed them. He ignored it all until he went back to the room, feeling rather drained from carrying this heavy feeling with him all day despite it only being midmorning… But as he took off his coat and hung it on the rack, the calendar caught his eyes.

“May 28th… How could I have forgotten..” Alastor said softly, looking at the circled date. He muttered under his breath as he made his way over to the bed and gingerly picked up the photo on his nightstand. Running his thumb along the framed photo, he lets out a soft sigh, almost as if he could breathe this heavy feeling that settled in his chest if he tried… But he knew he couldn’t. He never could.

“Mwen manke ou….” He whispered, looking into the glass of the photo’s frame and trying to focus on just the photo and not his own reflection in it. “I can’t believe how much I miss you, mother.”

He stared at the photo, breathing deeply and willing himself not to cry as he seemed to relive memory after memory of times when his smile wasn't so fake.

“Hey, Smiles! Charlie said dinner’s almost done!” Angel Dust called through the door enthusiastically as he knocked, but Alastor couldn’t bring himself to answer as he continued to stare at the photo in his now trembling hands. “Smiles? You in there?” Alastor wanted to respond, but he just couldn’t pull his focus away from the photo in his hands. He didn’t even register the sound of his door open or the feeling of the bed sinking a little bit as Angel sat beside him. There was a moment of quiet between the two as Angel looked at the picture the man held. He frowned, knowing that the radio demon didn’t like pictures so he couldn’t imagine him keeping one….

A woman with deep tan skin stood in the old framed photo, her mouth opened and eyes closed in what Angel could only imagine was a boisterous laugh as the child she held in her arms gave the camera an innocent gap toothed grin. The woman wore a tattered apron, but she had smears of something across her cheek and the curls that could be seen peeking out from beneath the head scarf she wore seemed to be coated in what he assumed was flour. The little one in her arms seemed to be covered in it too….

Everything about the photo made Angel ache for home.

“Oh… Is…Is that….?” Angel muttered softly as he looked at the photo the other man held, something clicking in his brain. Alastor nodded, tears starting to spill down his cheeks despite the cheshire cat smile on his lips. “Alastor…”

Before the spider demon could say anything more, Alastor’s shaky voice cut him off. “Her name was Delphine.” Alastor stroked the frame over his mother’s image, his ears tucking back as he felt the well of sadness begin to swirl within him. “She… died a few years before I did.”

“Is she-”

As if sensing the question on Angel’s tongue before it even falls off, the radio demon shakes his head, chuckling through his tears. “My mother was as pure as they came, she….” His voice cracked and his smile faltered as the dam of emotions finally began to break. “She always belonged among the saints….”

That was the first time since he entered hell that he had ever really spoken to anyone about his mother…. All the talk Charlie did of redemption made him think of her from time to time, and maybe he had let his guard down around a certain barkeep after a few too many drinks that were just a bit too strong, but this was the first time he truly admitted to himself that he would never see her again given the fact that he knew he deserved to rot right where he was and she…. never deserves to see even a hint of the tamest parts of the realm he'd damned himself to….

Angel sat there, not sure what to say or do as he watched the radio demon facade crack; the perma-smile that had sat unnervingly on his lips seemed to waver and his perfect posture dropped as tears slowly made their way down the sinner’s cheeks.

Angel hesitated for a moment before he rested a hand on Alastor’s shoulder, hoping that in this moment of vulnerability the demon wouldn't mind being touched. “I-it’s ok to miss her….. ya know, I think about my mom and my sister every day….. I…. I miss them a lot…”

Despite himself, Alastor felt a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside of him finally ripping free. His shoulders shook and snot dripped from his nose as he tried to hide his face, his smile vanishing without so much as a trace. He felt like a child as he sat there blubbering but he couldn't stop himself from crying the more he thought about his mother.

As the radio demon struggled to contain his sobs, a pair of arms encircled him and pull him close against a thin but solid frame.

“Just…. Let it out, Smiles…” Angel said in his gentlest tone, pulling the other demon against his chest and holding him as he cried. “It’s ok.”

The two sat there like that for what felt like hours, but the clock on Alastor’s bedside table told them that it had only been a few minutes before the tears seemed to stop. They both sat there, neither comfortable enough to break the silence they found themselves in until a soft knock brought them both out of the heavy, daze they both seemed to be in.

“Alastor?” Charlie called through the door. “Everyone’s already eating dinner…. We were gonna wait for you, but it was getting cold….” Her words were hesitant. “Alastor?”

The radio demon straightened up at the sound of his name, and as if he had rehearsed it, he began drying his eyes and smoothing his clothes, his signature smile plastered across his face. It baffled Angel…. He was used to faking smiles, acting however he had to to please whatever audience was in front of him at any given moment, but he had never thought of anyone else having that same ability, and certainly not someone like Alastor.

As Alastor grabbed his staff and headed toward the door, Angel grabbed his arm, unable to stop himself. “Ya know… You don’t have to go to dinner if you don’t wanna…” There was a flash of something in Alastor’s eyes. Most would have mistaken it for annoyance or anger, but Angel knew that look. “I’ll save ya a plate and bring it up later.”

“Thank you.” A genuine smile crossed the man’s face, probably the first one Angel had ever seen, apart from the one that came with near manic laughter whenever Lucifer tripped and face-planted over something the radio demon’s shadow left out solely for that purpose. But this wasn’t that, this was something softer, something that reminded Angel of the woman in the picture.

Angel left, catching up with Charlie about halfway down the stairs. “Hey, wait up!”

“Oh, I just came from your room.” Charlie said, looking mildly concerned. “What happened? I thought you were going to get Alastor for dinner?”

“Oh, uh, yeah… Smiles said he had a headache, so he ain’t comin’ down.” Angel said as they made their way downstairs. “I told him we’d save him a plate.”

Seeming to accept the answer, Charlie nodded and continued down the stairs, already beginning to talk the spider demon’s ear off as they made their way to the kitchen. Neither of them noticed the radio demon’s shadow slithering along the walls, back to his room.

Alastor sat on the edge of his bed, the photo of him and his mother in his hands. “I trust Angel Dust was…. discrete about our little heart to heart?” He asks, not bothering to look up from the photo as his shadow slipped into the room. When his shadow nodded, he let out a breath he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding until then. “Good.”

Looking back down at the photo, he let one more soft, genuine smile grace his features. He let his finger gently stroke the photo through the glass, ignoring the fresh round of tears threatening to spill. “Mwen renmen ou manman….”

[somerandomjewelleryonthefloor]

Through the Solace-Bolas-Verse.ೃ࿐

Chapter 3: Disgrace to all

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. · ───

Summary: "The bolas crew have found themselves in a world where the Nightbloom family have survived, but are soon horrified by what hides behind the clean marble walls..."

Characters: Solace (+ other versions seen), Nia, Mal, Tyril, Imtura, Aerin, Valax (+ other versions of them mentioned)

Word count: 4226

Warning?: This chapter deals with household verbal-abuse, childhood neglect (implied), and alcohol addiction (implied).

Extra notes: I am a teen, I haven't been through these scenarios. So if I get anything wrong I'm very sorry- please kindly let me know!

Tags: @lover-also-fighter-also @cadybear420 @choicesmc

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"SOLACE NIGHTBLOOM, HOW DARE YOU!!?"

A powerful voice boomed through the mansion that the party had ended up dropping into after they went through the portal, the portal quickly closing up behind them.

It felt as if the walls shook, and they had to cover their ears. Especially Tyril as that shout shook him to his core with his sensitive hearing.

"Well... We're definitely in the right place..." Valax whispered, looking towards Tyril as he pushed his hands into the sides of his head tightly with great force.

Shadow magic dancing at the tips of her fingers, and with the flick of her wrist- the screams were muffled a bit. They were still loud, but it definitely wouldn't cause any hearing loss.

She patted Tyril's back as unblocked his ears, looking at her. Nodding.

"Thank you..."

"What was that?..." Nia asked rhetorically, looking down a hallway.

The architecture was elegant, marble graced the walls and floors as large pillars on the side of the corridor held the roof up. Portraits of the Nightbloom family, from ancestors to present day members such as "Guyan Nightbloom" and "Navine Nightbloom".

Outside a window, Tyril recognised the sight. Tall buildings and winding staircases in the distance, elegant architecture yet high walls that signified a highly protected and sheltered society.

[Undermount.] Tyril quickly thought, before another muffled shout hit his and everyone else's ears.

"What do you mean I'm making a mockery of you? I'm doing everything BUT that-" Solace's voice boomed through the house, though it was overpowered by an older man's.

"You know damn well what your place is in this society, yet you dare try and make a name for yourself?" The sound of an exasperated sigh left his mouth, "you already have a title."

"And I don't like that one! It's not what I would've chosen for myself! That shouldn't be the only thing defi-" Solace was cut off, again. His voice gained more desperation and emotion each time.

Everyone went quiet as they realised what was happening fairly quickly. Standing still as they heard the horrible things that came out of, what they could only assume, was Solace's father.

"You're a WHORE child, Solace! You aren't supposed to do anything besides stay out of sight! NOT make yourself the center of attention!!"

There was the sound of a chair being pushed as someone banged on a table.

"Godsdamn it- why can't you listen to me!? WHY!? What have I done!?" Solace cried out, his voice cracking as his anger mixed with the tears he choked back.

"You EXIST is why! You're not supposed to be here! You're a mistake your mother had! And you RUIN THIS FAMILY NAME YOU-"

"FUCK YOU GUYAN!" The sounds of stomping, mixed with breathless crying filled the house.

Nia had to cover her mouth as she gasped, eyes widened and emotions running through her whilst Aerin and Imtura and everyone else were rendered speechless. Anger simmered under all of their skin, bubbling in their blood as the cries of Solace punctured their hearts like knives. Who would ever tell someone that? How could this man, say that to him so easily? Not even a moment of hesitation in his voice, just how was that possible?

Aerin's grip on the book he was able to keep from the last diamension tightened, his knuckles white.

"Does anyone feel the urge to hit this "Guyan" with something?" His voice was full of venom, looking down the corridor with a glare that could kill.

"Maybe a dagger or two, Princeling" Mal's hands now we're full of 2 daggers in each.

Tyril, despite his strong desire to find the man who just talked to a version of his beloved star and make him wish he could never speak again, had to take a deep breath and face everyone else who currently looked like they were ready for battle.

"As much as that'd be a lovely scene to partake in, we should prioritise Solace more... We should find him and make sure he isn't doing anything dangerous"

With an annoyed groan, Imtura sheathed her double axes. This made sense, getting to Solace as finding Solaces sped up the 'portal-opening to another dimension' process, which meant a step further to finding him. But it did leave them with great displeasure.

Walking quietly down the hall and passing by all the other things on display such as old diaries from past ancestors were kept in a glass case. Reaching the end of the hallway they got to a fork in the road, Mal peeked his head around a corner, seeing a hallway that led to 2 closed doors that had carvings in it. In front of them was a hallway that continued on to a different part of the mansion.

Mal reigned his head back and turned to face everyone else.

"All right, there're two different hallways and one of them has doors that go somewhere while one just goes on forever apparently" Mal looked towards Tyril, "Since this is undermount, which way would you say is our best bet at finding Kit?"

Tyril thought for a moment. The screaming match they all heard from earlier lightly rang in the back of his mind as he thought. Haunting him. He closed his eyes as he tried to formulate an idea, pushing that visual of Solace and his father yelling to the back of his mind for the moment.

Not all Undermount houses followed the same exact design, but usually most houses are 2 storeys so the common way to find a staircase to all the rooms upstairs would be from an open area. Ballroom, house entrance or otherwise.

"The hallway on the left. That usually leads to any open area like the entrance to mansions like these"

"Right, and what's our go to if someone finds us?" Aerin asked, "Mansions like these must have some servants right? What if we walk into one?"

"Knock em out" Imtura cracked her knuckles as she said that, though when she caught Nia's gaze she quickly added "Quietly. Quietly..."

With their (half-ass) plan, they ventured to the left hallway like Tyril said. Making it to the door Valax quietly opened one of the doors and peeked inside. It was another winding hallway, but at the end of said hallway was a long marble staircase. Though because of how long the hallway was and the angle she was looking at, she couldn't see if there were any doors.

Opening the door further, she slipped inside first with everyone else following.

It was honestly a headache. Seeing so many hallways in the span of 3 minutes, and they were all white marble with pillars on the sides to hold the ceiling. The lack of colour was astonishing, even for a high Elven mansion such as this. It was only greyscale, and it wouldn't help if they had to find a place to hide as it all looked the exact same.

Going down, they passed by several unmarked doors, and it was unsettling.

They had no trouble though as they passed the ghost hallway and got to the staircase. It winded in a spiral up to the second floor, and was purely marble with thick stone trailing.

Going up, the sound of cries in the far distance could be heard, they sounded breathless and pained, it gave them all a dreadful feeling.

Whilst they knew Solace cried, he rarely did it in public around them. The only time he cried was when he was absolutely done suffering mentally, as they all (besides Aerin) remembered that he cried before the war of Morella.

It was sickening, honestly. They diamension-hopped to 2 different universes, where Solace was somewhat happy and content- so to go from that to a universe where his parents are actively calling him a "mistake" and "whore child" to his face and making him cry was a lot to take in.

As they got to the second storey, they were all shocked at how drastic the change was. The entire upstairs was black marble, black curtains covering windows with only small cracks illuminating small spots on the floor and wall, and it was eerily quiet besides the pained crying.

As if this whole storey was designed for Solace, to spend his life here in the dark.

As they moved, their footsteps echoed as Nia made a large orb of light to illuminate the place. Upon lighting it up a little so they could see where they were going, they saw a rat scurry across the floor before a mouse trap went off somewhere under a table. The walls were full of wall marks and scratches, and the whole place looked unsafe to be in. It wasn't scary, it was depressing.

And knowing Elven society, Solace probably grew up here in this storey for most his life if he was an unwanted baby. Kept to keep a good image on the family, but behind closed doors he was pushed here.

"Fuck..." Imtura couldn't stop herself swearing as she and everyone looked around.

"Reminds me of those stories Mal & Nia tell the children about at the orphanage, beasts of castles being in the darkness, shunned from society." Valax went over and touched a claw mark that was etched deep into a broken wooden table. Feeling how deep it was. The wood was covered in dust and splintered, and

*ACK-CHOO!* Aerin sneezed, as he backed away from a curtain he was trying to open.

Aerin was coughing into his elbow, dust flying up his nose after attempting to open it to add light to the place. This area isn't even cleaned properly, which means that Solace also grew up being sick most likely with all the dust and rodents living about.

How cruel.

"I can't believe anyone would treat a child like this. Even if they weren't planned, it's horrid..." Nia wanted to cry, and also throw someone down the stairs at the same time.

Mal was sick to his stomach as he could smell the strong scent of alcohol as they all walked further along this dark hellsscape of a hallway. It smelt like honey-wine, but stronger. It was kind of disgusting, as it got stronger the closer they got to the crying.

Covering his nose, Tyril pressed his ear to a door, the cries had grown softer and muted as the sound of glass shattered inside.

They found his room.

Taking a deep breath, her decided that maybe knocking would work. So backed up and lifted a first, knocking gently.

The crying stop, and a growl could be heard inside.

"Who the hells is it." Pure disdain was in Solace's voice.

"S..." The switch from sadness to anger caught him off guard, but he kept his tone gentle. "Solace?..."

...

The sound of feet running to the door on the other side could be heard, and the door unlocked.

Only peeking out from a crack of the door, a dead deep purple eye was seen as Nia's orb of light followed the group.

"Tyril?" The light of hope in Solace's eye could just be seen fading away the minute he took a look at him.

"Y... Am I that drunk already?" Solace backed up from the door, holding his head.

Peeking in, the smell of alcohol was so strong and the pitch black made him uneasy. He was honestly scared to see what his room looked like if light entered.

Opening the door a bit, Tyril saw Solace's appearance.

His eyes were absolutely clean of any hope, light, only a dead look as deep hollows existed under his eyeballs, and he was bony beyond compare. In a floor-length dress, it didn't hide his frail figure. His skin could be seen as an unhealthy grey instead of the healthy shimmering purple-black tan they were used to seeing. The golden markings were a dull bronze, and his hair looked tangled up together. It wasn't put in a braid, just dragging along the floor.

His fingernails were longer than usual, usually 6 inch- but he had 10 inch claws that curled at the ends. They were sharp and dirty as they were stained yellow, instead of the pale blue that the group has grown used to.

He staggered back, palms covering his eyes as he hissed.

"Dammit I am..." He walked back into the darkness, leaving Tyril alone with the group outside.

Everyone shared a look of hesitation. Should they really go in and follow Solace? He looked horrible, and he wasn't in a good mood.

Nia made the orb of light smaller as she cautiously looked inside. 2 glowing eyes of purple and gold could be seen as the sound of him flopping on his bed could be heard. He rolled over and groaned as he muttered.

"Shit..."

"Yeah... Uhm... Maybe some of us should stay outside. I don't think he could handle too much..." Mal frowned as he covered his nose. The stench of spilt and dried wine on the carpet made him gag a bit.

"I'll stay behind with Mal..." Nia went over to him, leading him away from the doorway to keep the smell from getting to his head.

"I will stay behind as well- ACHOO!" Aerin sneezed again, before going into another coughing fit, clutching his book to his chest as he coughed into his elbow.

As Nia guided Mal and Aerin away from the door, down the hall and by the stairs so they could sit down, Imtura and Valax looked at Tyril. Imtura sighed as she crossed her arms.

"I'm coming in with you. I've been sloshed hard before, I'll probably be able to understand him and handle what he throws..."

"Hopefully he doesn't throw anything," Valax said, looking past Tyril and peering into the darkness. The orb of light followed them as Tyril turned back to the door.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and went inside.

The light of the orb helped light up the room only a little bit. By their feet was a shattered wine bottle, and as they moved, they could see the walls were clawed at and that there were clothes thrown everywhere. The ottoman by the end of the bed was broken, and they could see the bed sheets and blankets were ripped into scraps. By the bedside table where Solace was drunkenly sleeping, there was a diary page open.

As Tyril sat in front of Solace, Imtura eyed the damage with a frown. It was like an animal was locked up in here and went wild, she could almost imagine it. Solace throwing things around and scraping the marble after banging on a locked door because guests are over.

Valax was looking around. Seeing a mirror that was broken, in the middle was a fork wedged deep into the wooden panel that was behind the reflective surface. There were also glasses of goblets, 2 empty bottles of wine, and a small bottle of champagne that was on its side.

It made her scowl as she remembered the argument that happened when they first got there.

"How horrible, what pain caused by a parent does to someone" She clicked her tongue as she turned to Tyril.

Tyril was moving a strand of hair from Solace's face. Seeing Solace's face now closely, he could see his face was flushed and a small bubble of snot appeared as he breathed.

He was gorgeous still; he'd always be gorgeous in his eyes, though it pained him deeply that this was what would happen if Solace grew up with his biological parents and in Undermount. He couldn't believe this was real, that they were in a universe where all Solace felt was hurt and pain.

Imtura picked up a newspaper that was sitting on the bedside table and read it.

"Shocking... The bastard child of Navine of House Nightbloom shows face at Duskraven ball... Disrespects his role in- the FUCK is this!?" Imtura then ripped it up before crinkling it up into a ball and kicking it into the door.

She then turned to Tyril, eyes full of fury.

"You're telling me you grew up in a society this toxic?" She asked.

Tyril could only glance at her before looking back at Solace, nodding. She ran a hand over her face as her eyebrows flew up.

"Gods... I'm so sorry for you, that's terrible as shit." She sighed. Her anger only intensified as she looked at Solace.

On top of being yelled at, there's Elven society that shames him for doing anything besides stay in the shadows.

Valax looked at Solace's sleeping face as Nia's orb of light hovered over them. She noticed how his eyebrows were knitted together and his breathing was a bit ragged. She wanted to curse Solace, as because of him, he made her become her own person- which meant she gained emotions she was perfectly fine without. She felt a small ache in her heart, seeing her friend so distressed that he couldn't escape pain in his dreams.

She leaned over and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear as Solace's breathing hastened.

Imtura was by Solace's dresser, reading a diary entry that was left open. The writing was messy as the ink bled into the paper, but she could follow what it was saying.

"3/11/XXXX.

It's been 3 whole weeks ever since Tyril disappeared. Kaya said she was going to try and investigate where he went, but it was no use. He left undermount, and I don't blame him.

While he was gone I picked up my drinking habits again. I tried so hard to resist it, but I couldn't help it. I'm so sorry, Tyril; I know you said you wanted me to stop, but I can't."

As she read that entry, a small gasp could be heard behind her. Turning her head, Solace was up and looked at Tyril with tears in his eyes.

"Tyril?... You're..." Solace's hands grazed his face, his nails lightly picking at Tyril's skin as Solace teared up.

"You're back?... Wha- when- h..." His grip on Tyril's face tightened as he looked him over, "You- you've changed!..."

Whilst Tyril wanted to tell Solace that it wasn't his Tyril, her couldn't bring himself to tell the truth after seeing the light in his eyes come back again. So he lied, but only for now.

Letting himself be pulled into a hug by Solace

He could smell the alcohol on his breath, his frail body, his greasy hair, and the feel of his wet tears as he rested his face on Tyril's bare shoulder.

He could feel a smile appear on Solace's face, a small one that was strained, but a smile nonetheless.

Tyril wrapped his arms around Solace's back and waist, using his hand to pat his back as he sighed.

"If I knew you'd be back, I would've tried to look decent... I look horrible don't I?" He chuckled, though he didn't sound thrilled.

"You look fine, given your situation..." Tyril whispered back to him.

Finally paying attention, Solace pulled back. Looking at Valax with an expression of a gentler gaze.

"And who... Who is this? Your entourage of sorts? Or..."

When he looked over at Imtura, his face lightly flushed as he saw her tall stature and her muscles bulged when she crossed her arms. Though he quickly looked away, back at Tyril.

"Seems you've gotten out of your shell and finally made friends. I'm glad..." There was a small light in Solace's eyes as he gently looked at Tyril.

Solace's claws made their way into Tyril's hair, pushing back some of the hair there. He caught a whiff of the unicorn lick he got a few hours ago and sighed calmly.

"And why do you smell like taffy?"

"I do?" He tilted his head, not remembering he got licked by a unicorn.

"Yes. Your hair is slicked back and smells of taffy"

Tyril shrugged. He simply held Solace's face, which shocked Solace. His eyes widened, and he almost let himself melt into his touch. His eyebrows knitted together for a moment.

"And what's this for? Your new friends cuddle bugs? Or did you forget that in Elven society- if you're friends with someone like me, touch like this is a scandal?"

"..." Tyril got severely confused. Friends. He's just friends with him in this universe? That's weird... And stupid. Solace is a wonderful person, how did this version of himself not fall for him? Especially with those gentle eyes and that smile? And his soft voice when he wasn't yelling? No doubt they saw each other if the house Nightbloom was as grand as the Duskraven household and the Starfury house. Unless other Tyril was holding back his feelings for some reason.

Though he was lying his way through peace. So he shrugged and tried to seem casual.

"I just missed you a lot. Is that a good enough answer?"

"... I guess... I'll accept that..." Solace lightly closed his eyes as he looked at Tyril, his own hand wrapping around his wrist, feeling the veins that popped on his blue skin in a slow caress with the edge of his nail. His gaze beneath his half-lidded eyes stayed on Tyril's.

It made a dark violet fill Tyril's cheeks, he was convinced this other version of himself was just waiting for the 'right moment' to confess. The sparks that flew between them were strong, they'd burn an entire forest down 3 times over if they were tangible and real. And this wasn't even his Solace, which was something.

Though he was too preoccupied trying not to give away that he isn't this Solace's Tyril, as they had a moment.

Imtura was on the bed, lying on her back with her hands behind her head as she looked at the ceiling. Valax sat on the floor as she looked over a box stuffed underneath the bed, it was full of marbles that glittered different colours in the dim light of the floating orb.

Tyril slowly slipped from the eye contact, his gaze roaming over Solace's features. His beautiful white patch in the middle of his face was the shape of a diamond, the intricate bronze marking on his forehead and under his, his skinny cheeks and dark eyebags, his long and straight nose, his thick eyebrows, and his plump lips with a bronze ring on the bottom lip, his long eyelashes. While he looked unhealthy from his condition growing up, he was still the Solace Tyril knew him to be.

He was still gorgeous. Maybe he looked different as he took less care in himself to be ethereal 24/7, but he still effortlessly looked so gorgeous. He almost let himself slip as he stopped himself from inching closer to his kissable face and those irresistible lips...

[Stop yourself damn it, you can be wanting to kiss all the Solace's you meet. No matter how stunning they all look...] He scolded himself in his head, his gaze going back to Solace's eyes which were closed as he let himself indulge in Tyril's touch.

"I wonder what their purpose is..." Valax whispered as she looked at the marbles much more closely.

Hearing her, Solace opened his eyes and looked over at Valax

"Maybe you can find out yourself... I can't figure out what they actually do, and I never use them for anything anyway..." He then laid back down on his side.

"Are you saying I can take them for study?"

"Sure, knock yourself out. Otherwise if left here, I might get angry again and rage and break em..." Solace yawned, covering his mouth as his eyes closed.

"I'm gonna enjoy my first sob-less nap, okay?... I'll see you next time I see you, Tyril and... Friends..."

Solace then went into a small sleep. A smile on his face as he rested.

Imtura grabbed a ripped-up blanket from her end, sitting up and throwing it over Solace's shoulder.

"We should check if everyone outside is fine."

"Agree. This was a peaceful moment; let's keep it that way and get out..." Valax stood up, 4 marbles in her hand she put them in the small bag that was around her hips.

Imtura got up, stretching. She went over to Tyril and helped him up on his feet.

Though it was silent, Imtura gave Solace a longing look before he left with Valax out the door. Tyril stayed a moment more, going over and leaning down to give Solace a kiss on his forehead before he walked away.

Going towards the door, the orb of light fizzled out when he opened it and closed it behind himself. In the dark hallway, he walked to where everyone was by a new portal.

"So, are we fine? No one lost anything valuable?" Nia asked.

"Besides my temper, nope." Imtura looked down at everyone.

Everyone shook their heads before facing the portal. Another portal yet again. It was kind of fun though, Dimension-hopping. Though it could be really sad like this universe, it was fun to see what was different and what stayed the same. It kind of broadened their perspective on the world as a whole.

Tyril looked back at the closed door of Solace's room that he could barely see, before he walked into the portal with everyone.

...

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[Part 1]

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 16

♡ Chapter Inspo: Call It What You Want (Reputation - TS) ; I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck. Not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me. Which is more than they can say, I recall late November holdin' my breath, slowly I said "You don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?"

♡ Summary: Carmy x Winnie are finally calling things what they are after 3 months of beating around the bush, YAY!!!

♡ W/C: 10,775

♡ Posted Date: 04/05/2024

♡ A/N: Here we have chapter 16 - I hope you all like it! I have been stepping back and seeing where I want things to go, & I think I have generally a good idea now, so I was able to finish up the next 2 chapters finally haha. As per usual thank you for reading, remember requests for one shots are open - or even if you want to see WxC doing something specific let me know! I am here to please hahah one shots I've already written are on my masterlist linked below! Also - no one has asked, but I usually see people will read one chapter, then go back and read all of them 1-15, so if you want to be on a tag list so you can keep up w/ the story just tell me in the comments and i'll make one!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Speaking of smoking, Weed, Smut!, Nervous Carmy, Mushy fluff!!!

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

It was a few weeks later, and the beginning of spring had well arrived. The trees were becoming green again, the flowers were blooming, and Carmy and I were still hanging out nearly every afternoon, and he was staying over nearly every night. 

That Friday evening, around 11pm, after Carmy had gotten off his shift, he came over to mine and had a shower after we ate dinner that he had made us before he came over. Tonight had been a favorite - a true garbage plate per my request. 

It was currently 1 am and we were snuggled up in bed, mostly I was watching a rerun of Criminal Minds, and Carmy was distracted by his phone, texting with someone back and forth. 

“Did y’wanna come w’me to Richie’s Sunday? We do Palm at his usually. He’s been textin’ me about comin’ over a little earlier to help with the lamb.” He said and I looked up at him from my spot snuggled up on his chest, my cheek adorned with lines from his sweatshirt since it had been mushed there while I watched the show, my hands playing with the tie of his sweats absentmindedly so I didn’t pick my nails. 

“Oh- yeah. Sure. I didn’t know you like- did that. Y’re…religious? I mean- I know the chain and everything but..” I gently play with the charm between my fingers. He smiled a bit, forefinger gently rubbing over the dark red marks in my cheek from laying. 

“I mean- nah. Not really it’s more like..tradition I guess? Palm Sunday and Easter were huge when I was growin’ up. I guess it’s just an Italian thing, but it’s like- second Christmas. The whole family gets together and has a meal” he said and I nod. 

“Well of course I’ll be your date baby. Thank you for asking, I assume we’re doing church? Like Christmas Eve if it’s a big thing right?” I ask and he nodded a bit. 

“You don’t…you don’t have to go. I mean- I don’t go unless it’s Christmas Eve or Palm or Easter Sunday. So..but I get it if y’arent comfortable” he bit his lip nervously. 

“No baby- no…I think it’s sweet. I grew up Catholic too, well- Irish Catholic. But- I was baptized, so I’m rightfully Catholic. So we can get married someday and not go to hell” I giggled and he snorts a laugh. 

“Oh thank god y’re baptized baby, how could we ever marry if you haven’t devoted yourself to our lord and savior” he teased, earning a laugh from me. 

“Does this mean I get to crack out my veil again? What do I wear? Well I know I can’t have my tits out - but like, color scheme for your church, still red?” I asked and he rubbed my back gently. 

“Yes still red baby.” He kissed my neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. “I didn’t know you wore a veil. You were dedicated, huh? Such a good little Catholic” he teased, pinching my bum playfully. 

I laugh a bit “mmhmm- my mom was serious about it. I used to hate it but since I stopped believing in the Catholic god- er- worshiping him, anyway, I just think it’s hot. D’you think we could sneak away to the bathroom for a quickie during the service? I’ve always fantasized about fucking in a church it sounds really hot.” I said causing him to laugh into my skin. 

“Babe. Holy fuckin blasphemy you trying to get on the big man’s ultimate shit list?” He bites my shoulder playfully. 

“Ohhhh we’re way past it Carm. Plus- since he’s so big and mighty and he’s the one that created my twisted fucked up mind- it’s really him who thinks it’s hot. So if he’s mad it’s not on me” I giggled, poking his cheek. “D’you have a bite kink I’m not aware of sir?” I teased. 

“Mmm no you just taste good, and y’so cute it just makes me wanna fuckin bite you I can’t explain it” he bites down on my neck gently, running his tongue over my skin. 

“Awwww you have cute aggression?” I gently play with his curls and he chuckled into my skin, his breath causing goosebumps to appear. 

“That’s a thing?” He questioned and I nod a bit, a wide smile adorning my features. 

“It’s super sweet. Like…when I was at college studying, I took my first round of psych credits, and I guess that uh…when we see something that’s cute, or makes us really happy we wanna like squeeze it or bite it because we’re so overwhelmed with how cute it is that we’re like…searching for an outlet almost? But yeah, so thank you I guess. I do have the urge to just” I take his forearm, gently biting down and giggling into his skin and he chuckled. 

“Y’can bite me. Maybe not in public so we don’t look like a couple’a freaks, but this is ok” he said and I released his flesh 

“Oh yeah I’m just gonna bite you in front of all the staff at work next time I see you. I’ll do it when you’re really angry” I teased, lacing our fingers together and resting our hands over my tummy. 

“Ugh no work talk right now baby today was fuckin’-” he rubs over his face with his other hand “remind me to never trust Richie with shipment ever again.” He grumbled, grabbing his phone to resume whatever he was doing. I mentally rolled my eyes. 

Really, Richie? The one time. One time, that Carmy decides to let someone else start the day- and sleep until 5 am instead of 4- he fucks it up somehow. 

“ ‘m sorry baby. You want a massage? It’s getting late. Maybe it’ll help you sleep, how’s your back?” I asked gently, rubbing his forearm. 

He sighed a bit, putting his phone on the wireless charging pad on the nightstand that had begun living there since he had been sleeping over. “Hurts..Think I pulled a muscle ‘er somethin’ in my shoulder too, fuckin bags of rice were on the lowest shelf and I didn’t use my knees at all apparently” he said and I sat up, grabbing my massage oil from the nightstand. 

“Alright roll over mister, no more work talk tonight, got it? Were Resting our brains now” I kiss his cheekbone and he nods tiredly, tugging off his sweatshirt and laying on his stomach.

“No more work talk” he agreed with an exhausted sigh. I warmed some of the oil in my hands, kissing the little freckles along his back as I did so and he hums softly. 

“Okay so where should I start on the map baby?” I asked him. I had taught him the system my mom and I used to use when she’d give my brother and I massages as kids, where you tell a state on the map so she could better gauge where it was hurting. 

“Fuckin’… Vegas to the Carolina’s. It hurts so bad babe” he said and I gently felt over his lower back, this was usually where we started, unless Wyoming and Nebraska which were more his mid back was hurting him worse, that only happened when he went too hard at the gym, though. 

“It’s probably Texas. Usually Texas, babe” I said, gently working my thumbs with light pressure from the middle of his lower back outwards and he lets out a groan. 

“Fuck Texas” he muttered into the pillow, causing me to giggle a bit. 

“I’ve never been, I hear they have great Mexican food.” I said, adding a bit of pressure as I got to his hips where he held a lot of his stress. 

“Mmm I’ve been- shit”  he hissed as I work at a knot at the back of his hip. “Fuck- keep going babe- ahhh mmhmm- yes” he grumbles. I added more pressure and he sighed gratefully. “Thank you” he said softly, resting his cheek on his forearm, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“You’ve been? Lucky! Did you try the Mexican food?” I asked, dragging the pressure across his lower back and he moans out quietly. 

“Mmhmm…Dallas…ACF conference- went in November. They do have great Mexican food. And the drinks are enormous, crazy strong for how cheap they were.” He said. 

“Ooo that sounds like my kinda place. We should go on a trip sometime, if I could ever afford it that is. But a road trip would be fun” I gently rub up to his mid back. 

“You don’t have t’pay anything baby, I didn’t know you wanna travel- where d’you wanna go? I just have to get the time off. That's the problem, not the money. But what’s y’dream place y’wanna go?” He asked. 

“Anywhere. Well, anywhere with you. I’ve never been on a plane before, I took the train here. Cause my Grammy wouldn’t let me take a plane, since our Grandpa died in one- she says they’re bad luck. But I’ve always wondered what it was like. It seems fun. Are airports fun like they make it look in the movies?” I smile a bit, gently massaging over his ribs. 

“No. Totally not. They don’t really put airports in tv and shit after 9/11 if you’ve noticed because now they’re a fuckin’ nightmare- but I mean…not as shit as being on a train for what- 30 hours babe? Y’not doin’ that t’go do that nanny thing right? I don’t want you sittin for 30 hours with y’hip.” He said and I shrug a bit, continuing to rub over his mid back with the pressure I knew he liked. 

“I set a timer on my phone, and get up and walk around every 20 minutes, So it doesn’t hurt so bad. Also- it’s like…50 bucks cheaper so. 50 bucks toward my next therapy session” I say simply. 

“50 bucks?! Baby. No. I’m buyin’ y’ticket and you can get there in 2 hours, so I can have you for an extra whole day. No arguing. It’s done” he said and I laugh a bit. 

“Oh so you boss me around now?” I said and he smirks, looking at me over his shoulder. 

“Hasn’t that been established? That I only make you do something when y’too stubborn to allow me to help?” He asked and I kiss his lips gently. 

“Control freak” I teased, starting on his shoulders and his eyes flutter shut in bliss. 

“Consider it payment f’r all the massages I’ll need when you get back. I dunno how I’m gonna manage babe it helps so much. Fuck ah- yes. There- there honey” he groaned as I drag my thumb with a good amount of pressure in the dip of his shoulder blade. 

“Y’know you can see a real masseuse, Bear. You don’t have to torture yourself until I’m home again” I said, adding a bit more pressure and he whimpered, burying his face in the pillow. 

“Mmm- don’t wanna” he said into the fabric as I work his other shoulder the same way. “Holy shiiiit. Baby. Fuck- fuuuuck me.” He moaned and I laughed a bit, rubbing my thumbs up to the base of his neck and back down. “Mmm shit- fuckin’ hurts soooo good” 

I laughed at his bear like grumbles “Jesus baby. Thank god I don’t have roommates they’d think we’re sex addicts with the way you moan when I give you your massages” I straddled his hips as I work from the balls of his shoulders in towards his neck. 

“Mm not my fault you have tiny magical hands” he teased and I laughed. 

“Do not make fun of my little hands. I can’t help it, and it makes my life tedious” I joked, gently using the knuckles of my thumbs to release the tension in the sides of his neck. 

“How is me calling your doll hands magical, making fun of them?” He said and I smiled, pinching his arm gently. 

“May I remind you Bear who’s mercy you’re at right now?” I bite down on his neck playfully and he chuckles. 

“My favorite girls” he counters and I smiled big, a blush creeping to my cheeks. 

“You are a big flirt” I sat up, continuing to work at the base of his neck. 

“I am being accused left and right t’night, of crimes f’which you have zero admissible evidence” he teased and I laughed, covering my mouth to not wake up the neighbors. 

“Okay- we’re watching way too much criminal minds and SVU lately, admissible evidence, babe?” I shook my head, working on rubbing his biceps in sections since they were quite large. 

“Not my fault I wake up f’work and it’s still on. That shit can’t be givin’ you good dreams babe. Y’need to turn it off” he said and I smiled a bit at his concern. 

“Oh, and you when you go home, and turn on YouTube cooking videos until you pass out, that’s not giving you bad dreams about work?” I mused and he hums. 

“No. Cause I usually don’t watch the English ones, my italian is spotty, which makes my Spanish shitty. And our French lessons have only gotten me so far. So- if my eyes are closed, nothin but noise” he countered and I roll my eyes with a smirk. 

“And how do you know how much of everything to put in?” I ask curiously, massaging over his biceps. 

“By the look” he replied as if that said anything at all. 

“So, if I right now, gave you my water bottle- you could tell me how much water was in it?” I snort 

“Depends, is there ice?” He asked and I raised my brows. 

“ Carmy you can’t just- I mean you can guess. But you’ll have no form of accuracy.” I said and he hums. 

“Think of it like Cooking is biology, and baking is science babe. 2 different sides of the same coin. I don’t need accuracy, I need flavor and balance. A good chef doesn’t solely stick to a recipe. But a good baker always sticks to a recipe. F’r cookin’ It’s about what the dish wants. F’baking it’s what it needs. So yeah I’m confident I could give you a fairly accurate measurement by look” he explained and I gently massage over his wrists, paying extra attention to them because of all the repetitive motion he did at work with all the chopping and stirring and whisking. 

“Mmm I love it when you get all sexy technical chef on me” I kiss the top of his hand lightly and he smiled a bit. 

“Well I’ll tell y’anythin y’wanna know angel” he said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned big. “Mmm. Y’always put me t’sleep” he mumbled. 

I giggle a bit “that was the point. Geez like a colicky baby sometimes, so overtired y’can’t sleep” I said and he snorts. 

“Mmm this is my favorite part” he rolled on his side as I took my place next to him and he lays his forearm over my tummy so I can lightly drag my nails across it for him. 

“Spoiled, spoiled little bear” I teased, obliging him and gently dragging my nail across his skin with a featherlight touch causing goosebumps to appear. 

“Mmhmm, the most spoiled” he said and kisses me sweetly I hummed softly, cupping his cheek and gently rubbing my thumb over his cheekbone. 

“Just one more day”  I said when he pulled away, alluding to his Sunday off. 

“One more.” He said softly and snuggled into my chest as I continued gently caressing his arm, my other hand tangling in his muss of damp curls and scratching his scalp as I usually did to help him fall asleep. 

This had been our routine for the last 2 weeks now, he’d come over after working out, we’d eat dinner, he’d have a shower, then we’d sit on the balcony and smoke together, then come in and get in bed, I’d give him a massage after cuddling for a while, and stroke his arm and give him scratches to help him fall asleep, since the first night I did it for him he was out in less than 10 minutes, (which was an all time record for him) - and he’d be little spoon until he fell asleep. Then when I eventually did as well- we’d wake up in the morning with me having stolen the title of little spoon once more. 

He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck, his warm breath hitting my collar bone. I focused on the tv and continued stroking his arm gently, a few minutes went by like that before he muttered a half asleep “night honey” bringing a small smile to my lips.  “Night Bear” I said softly, brushing his curls off his forehead and gently kissing it, lingering for a moment before resting back on the pillow and continuing to stroke his arm gently.

I was woken by the sound of Carmy’s first alarm that he’d nearly knocked his phone off the nightstand trying to silence, before groaning tiredly and plopping his arm back around me, pulling me closer to him. 

“Morning” I said softly, my eyes still closed. 

“Mornin’ babe.” He said quietly, planting a soft kiss to my jaw. He’d been setting his alarm for 4:00 instead of 4:30 for the past week or so, so we’d get a little bit of snuggle time before he had to get in the shower. 

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, lacing our fingers together and turning to face him, wrapping my leg between his and hooking them together. 

“Alright. My back feels a lot better, thanks for the massage honey. How’d you sleep?” He rubbed over his face, yawning which caused me to catch it and yawn myself. 

“Course love. I slept okay, had a really weird dream, wanna hear about it?” I ask and he smiled lazily, nuzzling his face into my neck. 

“Mm. Always” he said softly. 

“So-“ I giggle softly at the absolute bizarreness “so, Syd was there- oh I’ll have to send her a voice note about this. But Syd was there, and we were at my middle school? But it was here, in Chicago. And it wasn’t my middle school, it was a hospital? But my teachers were there. Well they weren’t my teachers they were strangers, but I like knew they were my teachers, ya’know?” He chuckled a bit into my skin. 

“Okay, and what were you and Syd doin baby?” He questioned. 

“Literally Carm- playing with a Ouija board? Like?” I laughed a bit, causing him to follow suit. 

“Who were you trying to get ahold of?�� He asked. 

“I don’t know! But it was like scary lookin. I don’t even - oh! Yes! That’s how I know it was a hospital cause we were in this dingy like basement, and there was a gurney? Like. I dunno. Oh! And she was like” I laughed, shaking my head. “She was like Winnie- they’ll know the right ingredient. Like- like we’re summoning the dead for recipe advice? But she was so stressed like she was dyyying to find out what they had to say” I said and his chest vibrated with laughter. 

 “And yeah, that was it that’s the dream- dream Syd, and real Syd, both are OCD about recipes to the point of insanity” I said and he shook his head, planting a kiss on my temple. 

“Thanks f’r sharing babe. Y’know, maybe the dead could help us out with recipes- dream Syd could be onto somethin’ ” he joked and I gently play with his sleep tousled hair. 

“Mmm I think the only ghost that would give a shit about food they can’t eat- would be you and Syd baby. I can totally see that. Us hanging out in the afterlife, and you’re like ‘but honey, if I help them and tell them it needs more lemon it’ll be so good’ “ i mimicked him doing my best Carmy impression and he snorts a laugh. 

“I do not sound like that, when did I turn into a fuckin- southside chain smokin’ uncle?” He teased and I laughed, poking his cheek playfully. 

“Not too far off, you’re a north side chain smoking uncle in real life, so I guess the accent was a little off” I said and he rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah. I’m down to half a pack a day now I wouldn’t call that chain smokin anymore” he mused, kissing my neck with open mouth kisses, trailing down to my collarbones. 

“Mmm Bear?” I question and felt him smile into my skin before biting down gently in the fleshy spot between my neck and shoulder. 

“Mmhmm?” He mumbled, his teeth still gently clamped around my flesh. 

“It’s 4:09” I said, gently scratching his scalp with my nails. 

“So that means we have..21 minutes, no?” He questions and I raise my brows with a smirk. 

“And what are we doing with this twenty one minutes, Bear?” I muse and he lifted the covers, crawling underneath, and getting between my thighs. 

“Don’t they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day?” he asked, kissing over my pantyline in the way that made my breath hitch. 

“Real breakfast, baby. Which you refuse most the time” I told him, gently pushing his curls back, watching as he carefully slips my panties to the side. 

He licks a stripe up my heat with the pad of his tongue, stopping at my clit and applying more pressure, open jawed, rubbing his tongue messily back and forth. I whined in pleasure, my head dropping back to the pillow. 

He hooked my knees over his shoulders, pulling me closer by my hips and gently sucks on the sensitive bud that was now getting firmer and more prominent, flicking and smoothing his tongue over it in small circles, earning hot moans of satisfaction from deep in my chest. 

“Oh-“ I breathe out, my voice coming out as more of a squeak then anything and my hips buck involuntarily as a jolt of pleasure cracks through me at his actions. 

“Mmm so fuckin sweet” he grumbled into the slick flesh, the vibrations causing my core to clench around nothing.  

“Holy fuck Carmy” I gasp as I felt his tongue lapping over my enterence, thrusting his tongue inside in one swift motion, humming in satisfaction as he felt me squeeze tightly around his tongue and I tugged his hair between my fingers. 

“Ah- shitholy-fuckingchristCarm” I moaned out as he nudged the bridge of his strong nose against my clit with a pressure that was gonna drive me right over the edge- and fast. 

“Mmhmm- mmhmm” I nod quickly, biting my lip hard as I feel that all too familiar tightening in my stomach, the pool building quickly and the dam walls getting ready to snap, all of my muscles tightening and my thighs quivering. 

“Breathe” he reminded me gently, reaching up and grabbing one of the hands that had taken grip on his hair, lacing our fingers together and squeezing my hand gently. 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, “sorry” I mumble sheepishly and he continued, humming happily into my slick when I gasp in a enormous breath as he flicks his tongue wildly over my clit, pressing my hips into the bed to make me remain still with his other forearm. 

“Oh- oh- fuuuck! Ah- ahh! cumming! Yes- yes!!!” I cry out, squeezing his hand tightly, my head thrown back in bliss and spine arched off the bed. 

“mm- shit- fuck- too sensitive” I whine, as he continued the rough assault on my clit, digging my nails into the back of his hand. 

“I think I can get another one babe - cmon be good f’me, please?” he said lowly, his voice coated in thick, honey-like lust. 

“Ah- fuck-fuck- okay- mmmmillbegood” I slur, my thighs pressing against his temples and ankles locked behind his head. 

He removed his forearm from my hips. “Y’gonna be a good girl, mmm? Y’gonna stay still f’me? Er do I need t’keep holdin’ you?” He asks and I shook my head. 

“Ill be still, promise” I said quickly, squeezing his hand gently. 

“That’s my girl” he brought his mouth back to my clit, slipping two fingers in my entrance and curling them expertly into that amazing spongy spot he seemed to have memorized by now, that I could somehow never manage to get to so well on my own. 

“Holyfuck” I groaned, tugging his hair taut and he moans into me, the vibrations on my over sensitive clit dragging me to the edge and leaving me dangling there. 

“Ah- fuck mmm-d’that- keep doin’ that Bear pleeeease” I begged as I tug at his hair harder, earning a deeper moan out of him. My hips snap back into the mattress, twitching and shaking as I mewl and whine through my second orgasm, my back arched and hand leaving his hair to grip the sheets so I wouldn’t hurt him as I held them in a white knuckle grasp. 

His alarm goes off for 4:30 a few moments after my thighs stop quivering in pleasure and hips finally stilled. He messily wiped his wet chin, mouth, and the tip of his nose on my thigh, slick with my arousal, before placing a gentle kiss on my mound, and popping his head out of the sheets, casually hitting the stop button on the alarm. 

“Thanks f’breakfast honey” he joked, getting out of bed and stretching his back, before giving me a peck on the lips and heading off to the bathroom, leaving me fucked absolutely dumb. 

“Anytime” I said tiredly, feeling exhausted once again after only a few hours sleep and being feasted on so intensely, and so early in the morning. 

He left the bathroom door cracked so Persephone wouldn’t scratch the whole time trying to get in and investigate what he was doing, and I heard him start the shower before I rolled back over and fell asleep. 

I was awoken by sweet gentle kisses about 45 minutes later, feeling the icy metal of his chain brush over my chin as he pressed lingering kisses on my forehead. “Hey sleepy” he said softly, rubbing my side. 

The smell of his cologne and minty toothpaste hits my nose and my eyes flutter open. He was sat next to me, backpack and hoodie already on. 

“Already?” I whine, laying over his lap and nuzzling my face in his tummy, breathing in his scent and wrapping my arms around him. 

“Mmhmm. But 3:30 yeah? I’ll come pick y’up from the library we can have lunch in the car?” He gently runs his fingers through my hair in the way that made me sleepy, and my eyes flutter shut once again subconsciously. 

“Can’t you call out sick?” I mumble into his sweatshirt and he chuckled. This was the same conversation we had nearly every morning. 

“And do what princess? Mm? Follow you to the library and sit around while you put away books?” He joked and I huff. 

“Yes. Exactly that.” I said and look up at him, puckering my lips, knowing I wouldn’t win this battle possibly ever unless he was actually sick. 

“Mmhmm I’m sure y’boss would love to just have a chef loitering around all day waiting for her star employee” he teased, leaning down and giving me a sweet, tender goodbye kiss. 

“Be safe.” I said softly when he pulled away, cupping his cheek and rubbing over his cheekbone with my thumb. He leaned into my touch, sighing softly and eyes fluttering shut. 

“Always. We have a big catering order today, so if I don’t text back that’s why. What do you want f’r lunch in case I forget to ask?” He took my hand, gently kissing my palm. 

“Mmm- dunno. Surprise me, nothin’ spicy but you knew that” I said, covering my mouth as I yawn. 

“Surprise it’ll be then baby” he leaned in, kissing me once more before pulling away and rubbing my stomach signaling it was that dreaded time. 

I sigh, sitting up off his lap and giving him a big hug, kissing his cheek with a smooch “have a good day baby” I said softly into his damp hair, kissing his head once more before letting him go. 

“Thank you angel, lock the door behind me please” he said and I nod, following him to the door and see Persephone was sat on top of his shoes in the hallway.  

“See I think Persephone says you should stay home too” I smile and he shook his head with a grin. 

“Not t’day snowball” he picks her up, kissing her head and he licks the tip of his nose, causing him to scrunch it adorably. 

“Ugh fish breath” he mutters and I giggle. 

“She looooooves her Carmy, isn’t that right little baby?” I scratch her chin and he plops her in my arms so he can slip on his sneakers. 

“Mmhmm and I love her too but duty calls, stinky” he tells her in a sweet voice and kisses her head once more before pecking my lips once he had his shoes on and opening the door. 

“And put some panties on Winnie the Pooh” he said in my ear, spanking my bum lightly before heading down the hall. 

I laughed “Sorry- I’ll make sure to put your leftovers away sooner next time” I call after him teasingly, shutting the door behind me and clicking it locked.

I was in the Young Adult section at the library, putting returned books back on the shelf, when I felt my phone start buzzing in my bra. I fished it out, abandoning my cart of books I’d yet to put away, quickly heading to the employee back room once I realized it was Carmy. 

I clicked green answer button. “Hey Bear! How’s the-“ he cuts me off suddenly. 

“Hey- um- hey. I need like- a huge favor baby”  

He said nervously. I put a concerned hand on my hip, nervously pacing the break room. “What is it love? Are you ok? Are you hurt?” I asked, already on edge due to the anxiety lacing his tone. 

“No- no I’m ok- it’s uh. Syd. She’s….fuck I’m sorry - her stomach? Something about her stomach. She’s in the office right now, she can like- barely move but she doesn’t want to go to the hospital and uhh.” I could see him in my mind nervously shaking his hand and pacing. 

“Okay- okay I’m coming. Is it like a girl tummy ache- or something different?” I asked, grabbing my purse and light jacket I’d worn, quickly putting it on as I held my phone pressed to my cheek and shoulder.

“No - no way honey. This is like- she can barely speak - I’ve never…I’m scared baby.” He said, his voice cracking a bit. 

“Shhh. It’s ok, it’s ok, Bear- Syd has had stomach ulcer problems in the past, I need you to get her to try and eat something, ok? Shes gonna say no, but she has to eat- the acid in her stomach is irritating her. I’m coming. I’m grabbing an Uber right now, breathe baby. It’s all gonna be fine” I said and he took a deep trembling breath. 

“Ye’…yeah. Ok. Okay, I’ll see you baby, be safe” he said and I sigh softly. 

“Always” I said softly and hung up. I shoved my phone in my coat pocket, untucking my hair and heading to my bosses office. 

I lightly knocked, waiting for her ‘come in’ before nudging the door open. 

“Hey- Family emergency, I have to head out. Could you let Jessie know I left some returns in the YA section?” I ask and she nods. 

“Hope everything’s ok, call me if you can’t make it in Monday.” She said and I nodded. 

“Thank you” I told her before shutting her office door behind me. 

The Uber ride to The Bear was torturous, I’d texted Syd thrice - to no avail. She was constantly pushing herself so hard- that she was making herself literally burn from the inside out. I’d told her time and time again, from everything I’d learned in my 3 years at college- stress can literally kill you, and that she should really take some time off before she seriously injured herself- but unfortunately she never listened. 

I got out of the car when we’d barely come to a full stop, rushing to the front door, stepping inside and seeing Sugar at the host stand. “Oh- thank god- Carmy is freaked out Winnie- he literally is convinced she’s dying- can you go cool him off? Please?” She begs and I nodded quickly, heading behind the counter and pushing the back door open to the loud kitchen. 

Everytime I was here during the day, I made it a point not to come in this way because the environment made my skin crawl. The noise, the lights, the crashing of pans and pots, the yelling, the sudden bursts of flames while various chefs flambéd dishes that would singe your hair if you weren’t paying attention. 

I swallowed thickly “uh- oops! Sorry” I squeak, quickly getting out of a foodrunners way as he briskly moved past me, shoving the door open with his hip and heading to the front of the restaurant with a large tray of food he held with one hand over his shoulder. 

“Uh- behind you? I’m behind you!” I tried to call over the noise as I pass various people. Usually if I came through the front, Carmy greeted me and people parted for us like Moses and the Red Sea- but without his presence, I was just another body in here and no one seemed to even realize I was there. 

I finally made it back to the hall where the offices were, taking a deep breath to center myself before pushing open the door. 

Carmen was knelt in front of the big comfy couch in Sugars office, offering Syd some water. 

“Winnie- if you don’t get your boyfriend the fuck away from me- I’m gonna peel off his skin and enjoy it” Syd said through gritted teeth. 

“Syd- Syd- eat. Y’have t’eat.” He pleads and I shut the door to silence out all the noise. 

“Carmy” I said softly and he looks up at me, concern and worry written all over his face. “Take a walk, yeah? Go have a cigarette ok?” I said gently and squat next to him, rubbing his shoulder that was hard as a rock with all the tension he was currently holding. 

“No- no. She’s sick Winnie. She’s just bein’ a jagoff because she hates bein’ cared for. Cmon syd” he looks at her and she glared back at me with the fire of 1000 suns, a look that if I was quite honest- scared me slightly. 

“Bear” I gently play with his curls, earning his attention once more. “What Syd needs right now, is the energy in the room to be calm, and you’re literally vibrating with anxiety. Please, f’me? Go relax. Ok?” I said and kiss his temple. 

He huffs and got up, leaving the room with a hard closing of the door, but not quite a slam. I look at Syd, and before I could start, we both hear Carmy going off 

“I’m steppin’ out f’r 5 FUCKIN MINUTES- If that GOD DAMN DIRTY BOWL I ALREADYTOLD SOMEONE TO WASH IS STILL SITTING AT THE EXPO WHEN I GET BACK HEADS WILL ROLL FUCKERS. MOVE. IM NOT FUCKIN’ AROUND T’DAYISN’T THE FUCKIN’ DAY “ he barks before we hear his heavy footsteps stomping off down the hall and a harsh slam of the back door. 

Syd rolls her eyes and I gently sit next to her. “See what I have to deal with? And you wonder why I’m - fffuuuuck oh my gooooddd” she groans, keeling over and laying on my lap as she clutches her stomach. “Fucking kill me. Oh my god- kill me please” she moaned in pain. 

I gently rub her arm, digging through my purse and taking out one of my vials of RSO I kept in there for emergencies. “Here, Y’gonna have to go home- but..it’s gonna make it stop” I told her. 

“Give it. Give it. Whatever it fucking is. I’d literally take heroin right now holy shit Winnie it feels like I’m being stabbed” she said, hands shaking from how much pain she was in. 

“Open.” I told her, tilting her face towards me. “Tongue up” I said when she opened her mouth and I squirt a decent glob of oil under her tongue. 

She closed her mouth, nose scrunching at the taste “what the fuck is that weed?!” She mumbles and I nod. 

“Mmhmm, well kinda- don’t swallow. Let it sit until the pain stops enough that you forget about it and wonder why your mouth is so full of spit” I teased, gently dabbing her sweaty forehead with a napkin from my purse. 

“Thank you” she mumbled, closing her eyes and sighing softly as she waited for it to kick in. 

“He was really worried, Syd.” I said after a few minutes of silence, when I knew the pain had started to dull since her hands had stopped shaking. 

She shook her head in annoyance, unable to speak yet because of the oil and scrunching her nose as if to say ‘he shouldn’t be.’ 

“Y’re his only friend. Other then me, and Richie. But Richie raised him. Of course he’s gonna worry for you. Especially when you’re like- near the point of vomiting blood because of how bad this is getting. You have to do the surgery, Syd.” I said and with that she swallowed, sitting up and looking at me. 

“No- no. Winnie. No! I’m- I can’t. I can’t and I won’t. It’s not even that bad and I’m not vomiting blood miss theatrics- I’m not gonna take 3 weeks off work to do a stupid surgery that isn’t even guaranteed to find anything wrong! What if they go in there and find nothing and I’m back at square one- and out of work for THREE WEEKS?! I can’t leave Tina yet, she- she’s. No. I can’t let her drown. Carmy too- a-and Richie. We can’t-“ I inturrupt her 

“Sydney.” I said in a dead serious tone. “Y’need to get it. This is literally like - this should not even be a discussion at this point! The reason the doctor wants you to have it is because before they can just give you all these medicines to fix your gut bacteria that’s all shot from fucking stress- it’ll hurt you more on the very slim chance you don’t have a stress ulcer, but it is something with your stomach, Syd. It’s an exploratory surgery they don’t do those for no reason.” I said as Carmen came in and his eyes nearly fell out of his head. 

“Surgery?!” He exclaims and slams the door shut behind him. “What? Syd- what’s going on. This isn’t a stomachache you didn’t just eat somethin’ that’s not agreeing with you. What is it, Sydney” she said and I crossed my arms, sitting back and letting her do the talking. 

A slow smile grows on her face, and she covers her mouth with her hands as she begins to giggle. Fair to say the oil has now done its trick. 

“Have I ever told you, when you get mad, there’s this vein in your forehead- and- it’s- it’s so funny” she said, causing me to start laughing with her. 

Carm’s eyes flickered to mine. “What the hell did you give her?” He asks and I shrug with a smirk. 

“Somethin’ t’make her floaty, and” I shield my mouth from Syd so only Carm could see “agreeable” I mouthed and he smiled a bit, shaking his head. 

“Syd.” He looks at her. 

“Caaarrrmeeennnn” she replied in a sing-songy voice “I need to get back to the spice mixture for my cod now- but this was a great chat guys. Winnie- you’re the best” she said and got up, heading towards the door. 

“Noooo ya’ don’t” Carmen stops her, spinning her around by the shoulders and leading her back to the couch. She groaned dramatically, sitting down next to me once more. “What is this about a surgery, Syd?” He asked, pulling up the rolling chair and sitting in front of us. 

“A stuuuuupiiiidd surgery Carmen. Stupid. Doctors wanna slice me open and prod around hoping they find something. And then when they don’t i'll be stuck at home with my dad glued to my bedside, for no fucking reason, and I’ll loose three weeks minimum of work. And that’s if they find nothing. If they do find something, I’ll have to schedule another surgery and I’ll be out for SIX weeks.” She said and Carm nods, rubbing over his face for a moment as he thinks. 

“And how long have they been buggin’ you t’get this surgery, Syd?” He asked finally, brushing his hair back and looking at her seriously. 

“Mmm….” She crossed her arms, averting his gaze “7 months” she mumbles. 

“What?!” Carmen leans forward in disbelief. “Say that- say that again? I know y’didnt just say you’ve been dealin’ w’this f’r a fuckin year” he said and she shrugged. 

“They reccomended it a year ago, they’ve just been hounding me for the past 7 months. It’s really not that bad, Carm.” She said and he shook his head, getting up and going over to the filing cabinet silently. 

“What are you doing?” Sydney sits up as he opens a drawer, thumbing through different file folders before popping out what looked to be a blank information sheet of some kind and plops back down in the chair, rolling over to the desk and beginning to fill it out with a pen. 

“Carmen - what are you” she stood up, looking at the form he was filling out “no” she said, ripping it from under his pen and crumpling it up, throwing it in the wastebasket next to the desk. “Fuck you. No” she seethed. 

“What’s going on?” I sit up. 

“Syd- there’s like 50 million copies, I really don’t want to do it like this, but I know you aren’t gonna do it unless I make you do it.” He said and got up, walking back over to the same filing cabinet. 

She followed him, holding the drawer containing the forms closed with her hand. “No! Carmen are you fucking kidding me?! You aren’t my fucking parent. Stop! We are equals here! You can’t do this” she said and he shook his head, resting his hand atop the cabinet. 

“Sydney. This isn’t a discussion, are you really gonna make me say it, you’re really gonna push me?” He asked lowly. 

She crosses her arms, “say it.” She countered chest quickly moving with rapid angry breaths. 

“As your partner. I’m ordering you, mm? It’s an order, Sydney. Y’gonna go to the back, Y’gonna empty out your locker- because y’not gonna be around here for a while, and you are going to come back to this office, Y’gonna take the short term disability form I give you, Y’gonna call them, file. it. I will be checking, and then, Y’gonna schedule whatever fuckin procedure you need, and when your doctor clears you to come back in the kitchen, then, and only then will you return to work. I’m being more then fair, considering you’re making me force you t’do this, so I’ll be paying you your full wages while you’re out. Even though, im gonna have to train 3 dumb fucks to even-“ he shook his head, sighing deeply. “T’even keep us runnin’ half as well. So there. There. You wanted me to fuckin’ play mean mentor partner there ya go.” He said before opening up the drawer, plucking out another blank form and sitting back at the desk. 

She scoffs, looking to me. “You’re just gonna let him do this?” She narrowed her eyes at me, brows furrowed with anger.  

“Syd- this..this isn’t my restaurant…you only answer to-“ Carmy cuts me off. 

“Do not. No. Sydney, out. Step the fuck out, now. Y’not doin’ this t’her. She fuckin-“ he shakes his head, rubbing his eyes before pointing to the door. 

“Fuckin- go. Go before I say shit I’ll regret. Leave. Now.” He orders her and she left the office with a loud slam of the door. 

I sighed, dropping my head back on the couch and closing my eyes, wanting to melt into a puddle on the floor. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby” he sighed, the soft sounds of pen on paper filling the silence. 

“Not your fault” I mumbled, crossing my arms. 

“I-it is. Babe I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringin’ you into this shit. It’s not fair, she’s your friend” he said. 

“Exactly- she’s my friend. I love her, Carm. She’s a hard headed fuck at times, but it’s because she loves being here. She just- has this idea that I have some semblance of control over what you do” I took off my shoes before sitting crisscrossed on the couch. 

He snorts a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Well. I mean, not full control- but I listen to you” he gives me a small smirk and I roll my eyes. 

“In our relationship of course. But I can’t honestly give you advice about that. Shes gonna cool off and apologize, to you too babe. Shes gonna realize we just want her better” I sighed softly. 

He nodded, continuing to fill out the form. “I get if you don’t wanna sit around here, want me t’drive you home?” He asked. 

I shook my head “why not? Well if I can stay back here. I don’t like being in the kitchen like at all” I said and he chuckled. 

“Why? Too busy?” He asked

“Too busy, too loud, too bright, to many stabbey things, too many people, too many smells, too much yelling.” I said, pulling my kindle out of my purse. “But back here I have a comfy couch, my books, and my bear. So, I’m ok here” i smile a bit and he rolled over, giving me a peck on the lips. 

“Thank you f’comin, honey. Really” he tucked my hair behind my ear. 

“Baby, any time. If you’re ever scared, or need to talk, or just- I dunno…need a hug? I’m here. That’s what I’m for.” I said and he kissed my nose sweetly. 

“Then I’m the luckiest guy alive” he said softly before kissing my lips in the way that gave me a feeling of a swarm of monarchs being trapped in my chest.  

“Oh you are the mushiest ever” I said and kissed the cute little moles on his cheek.

The door slammed open and Syd comes in “give it.” She snipped, outstretching her hand. 

Carm rolls back over to the desk, handing her the form and she plucks it from his hands. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and they look at eachother in silence, almost like 2 lions deciding if it was worth it to continue a fight over dominance. 

“Please.” She said quietly after a few moments, her big brown eyes teary. 

“Syd” he said softly, signing to her ‘I’m sorry’ over his chest and i bit my lip, looking out the window, trying to appear uninterested so that they could have some semblance of privacy. 

“Then I want you to get your back checked out. Fair is fair, Carmen.” She said shakily. 

My eyes flicker back over to him and he sits back in his chair, rubbing over his chin for a moment as he thought. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go to the doctor. Back pain is different Syd you know this. But fuckin’ whatever. I’ll go if it’ll make you get Y’r surgery” he said and she nodded once. 

“Fair is fair” she outstretched her hand for him to shake, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Really, we have to seal this with a handshake?” He asked. 

“Fair, is fair.” She replied and he shook her hand firmly. 

“And I’m sorry” she said to me. I nodded 

“It’s okay, I know this is…it’s hard, kid. I get it. But did you have to give me the near impossible task of getting him to the doctor?” I tease with a smile. 

The faintest upturn of a smile replaced her frown and she shrugs. “It’s his deal to go through on. I’ll be checking.” She repeated his words from earlier and he gave her a smug smile. 

“And how will you do that? You don’t know what doctor I see, or if I’ll just go to an urgent care and have some random ass doctor write me a pain pill prescription and that’s it.” He countered. 

“Oh- because I have eyes on you at every angle.” She told him. “I’m always watching.” She teased, closing the office door behind her when she left. 

“What- is she gettin’ daily reports from you ‘er somethin?” He asks and I laughed, shrugging a bit. 

“Mmm. Not reports. I don’t like tell her everything, but- mood reports” I giggle and Richie opens the door. 

“What the fuck are you doing?! How are we gonna run this shit without Syd?!” He shuts the door behind him and looks over to me. “Sorry sweetheart, nice t’see you” he gives me an apologetic smile before turning back to Carm. “You let her go?!” He asks and Carmen looks at him as if he had 3 heads. 

“Let her go?! No, jagoff. I told her to take short term, I’m paying her full wages as long as she needs, and she’s gonna be back when she’s fuckin’ better.” Carmy explained. 

“Short term? Short term termination? Short term what?!” Richie asked frustratedly. 

“You IDIOT. SHORT TERM DISABILITY!” He shouts at him and I flinch. 

“Carmen” I said sharply, he quickly looks over to me. 

“That scares me. Please. You don’t need to yell, Bear- also- you aren’t an idiot, Richie. He’s just…in a mood.” I said softly and Carm’s cheeks flush red.  

“ok” he muttered, turning back to Richie. “It’s-“ he takes a deep breath. “It’s fine. I have it under control. What I need you t’do, is ask Nat for the login shit for the recruiting website she used to find the runners and shit. Can you handle that f’me while I figure out how this shits gonna work while Syds out?” He asked him calmly, but I could still…feel him. His energy. He’s way too wound up. 

I wish I could just tell him to come home, talk it out with him, I knew all of this rage was just him burying his fear. He was so fucking scared. 

“I can. I can do that” Richie nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “So- so what’re we doin’ what’s the fuckin plan?” He asked and I give him a look. 

I knew he had to get out of here or Carm was going to rip in to him just because he could. “Richie, Syd just left- like 5 minutes before you came in here? Carmy is still working that out…can you- can you do me a favor?” I asked and his brows raised in surprise. 

“Yea? Yeah. Wha’dyou need?” He asked. 

“Can you go get that stuff from Nat and then make me a grilled cheese? Eva said you make really good grilled cheese. So Carmy can have some quiet time to figure this out, and you guys can tell everyone what’s going on together.” I look at Carm. 

“Because you don’t have to do everything alone, you’re a team. Breaking difficult news is hard, but when you have the people you love with you, it can make it easier to bare the weight.” I said, looking directly at Carmen. 

Carm nodded, swallowing thickly and biting at the inside of his lip nervously. “Sure- yeah. She uh…she said that?” Richie asked and I smiled, looking over to him once again. 

“She specifically said - ‘My daddy makes the best grilled cheese in the whole wide world’ “ I told him and he smiled a bit, a light blush creeping to his cheeks. 

“Alright well the kid has quite the flare f’dramatics, but I can make a pretty good grilled cheese. Comin’ right up” he said and headed back out to the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. 

Carm got up, locking the door, before coming over to the couch and laying down with his head in my lap. I knew he didn’t have the confidence to ask, so I gently start scratching his head in the way that he liked and his eyes fluttered shut. He let out a deep sigh, like a pressure valve releasing so it wouldn’t explode. 

“So let’s make a plan, baby. I don’t think you need three. I think you know that but you’re planning for someone to drop” I said softly, gently stroking my nails through his hair. 

“Cause someone will drop babe it’s how it fuckin goes. If I hire 2 we’re gonna be left short when one quits because they aren’t as good as the other one.” He said. 

“Well why do you say that, baby?” I asked. 

“Because no one’s gonna fight to be the best when they inevitably find out they’re a temp” he said and I furrow my brows. 

“Carmen. You weren’t planning on hiring someone without telling them right?” I asked and he got quiet. “Carmen. Are you kidding me?! Absolutely not! Oh my god that is so- so mean baby!” I said and his cheeks heat. 

“Well who the fuck is gonna wanna work here when we already have a full fuckin staff?!” He asked annoyed. 

“Because you are the best fucking restaurant in Chicago, are you kidding me baby?! Just like you sent Richie to Ever to gain experience? There are fucking talented chefs Carmy, ones like Richie who don’t have the time to save and go to super nice culinary school like you did and garner that expirience. There would be a line out the door if you were honest and said ‘hey who wants a 2 month opportunity at a luxury fine dining restaurant that’s been nominated for best new restaurant by the JBF in its first year open’ “ I told him. 

He was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “I guess” he mutters. 

“Babe cmon we can write the posting together. We don’t even have to do all this today. Don’t rush, y’know what would be a good idea?” I ask. He hums in response. “I think, that you should go back out there, work as usual, keep Syd’s stations covered best you can, and we can have a nice Sunday together, relax, recharge, and then we’ll have Palm Sunday dinner with the family, and then on Monday, you can come in fresh and rested with a great plan on what you’ll tell everyone with Richie.” I explain. 

He contemplated for a moment, looking over at the desk in thought before looks up at me, “thank you.” He said softly. I gently caress his cheek with my knuckle. 

“Nothin’ to thank me for, Bear.” I said and he took my hand, placing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. 

“There’s too much to thank you for. We’d be here forever” he mumbled against my fingers with a small smile.  

“You’re getting mushier by the day” I ruffle his hair and the doorknob jiggles. 

“D’you still want this?” Richie calls from outside. 

“Yeah! Sorry” I said getting up when Carmen got off my lap. I opened the door and Richie offers me a plate with 2 grilled cheeses. 

“He hasn’t eaten” he said so only we could hear and I nod. 

“Thank you, best cousin ever” I took the plate. 

“Course, anytime. Oh Carm” he looks to him “user is MBerzatto87 password is fuckin password234.” He said and Carm chuckled a bit. 

“I coulda guessed that shit. But I guess I was hopeful he gave more a shit about cybersecurity” he shook his head. 

“RICHIE. DID YOU TOUCH MY ORANGE ZEST?!” Tina shouts from the kitchen and Richie heads back 

“What the fuck would I need orange zest for?” He yells back as I shut the door, locking it once again. 

“How do things always go missing?” I giggle a bit, sitting next to him and placing the plate on his lap, taking one of the sandwiches and taking a bite. 

“Cause people at the same stations doin’ the same thing will think they already did their orange zest, and just take it.” He said, staring at the plate on his lap. “Also I’m not hungry” he put the plate on the desk. 

I shrugged, putting my sandwich back on the plate. “Okay” I said, brushing off my hands before grabbing my kindle again and continuing to read. 

“What- what’re you doin’ babe. Eat” he said, putting the plate on my lap. 

“I’m not hungry” I said, not looking up from the page. 

“Yes you are, you - you don’t ask for food unless you’re hungry, Winnie.” He said. 

“Mm- I like it when we eat together. I don’t wanna eat by myself so, my appetite is gone.” I lie with a shrug. 

“Y’really gonna be difficult right now?” He asked and in response, I playfully stuck out my tongue before going back to reading. 

“Oh you are a child” he huffs, picking up the untouched sandwich and taking a bite. 

“Oo! I’m hungry again!” I teased, grabbing mine as well and taking another bite. 

He snorts a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Y’re lucky y’cute” he said before taking another bite. 

I smiled, “I love winning you over. It’s my favorite game” I said teasingly. 

“Yeah yeah, I’m just saving myself, you turn into a tiny demon when you’re hungry. Especially on your cycle” he said and I laughed. 

“You’ve learned your lesson though so you don’t have to meet that demon again as long as you keep us fed.” I peel off the crust, setting it on the plate. 

“You don’t like the crust?” He asked. 

“No…well- I don’t know..really. I didn’t as a kid, but Chris did, so I always gave it to him. Never stopped” I said, staring at the crust on the plate as I got lost in memories of sitting in the school cafeteria with Chris over lunch, carefully peeling off the crust after taking my first bite and putting it on the top of the empty ziplock he’d taken his sandwich from. 

“That’s sweet. I’m sure he’s happy you still leave it for him” he said. My heart melts at the sentiment and I gently kissed his cheek before resuming eating my sandwich. 

“I don’t like pickles, so when we were kids- Mikey always picked em off for me.” He says quietly and I looked up at him. It wasn’t often that he brought up stories about Michael, so each one I safely tucked away in my mind where I’d never forget. 

“I love pickles, I could eat a whole jar if you let me. I’ll always take unwanted pickles” I smiled a bit. 

“Ahhh ok. So you’re a sour person not a spicy person. It’s usually one or the other” he said before finishing off his sandwich. 

“Yes- exactly. You like spicy stuff? We haven’t eaten a single spicy thing” I said and he nods. 

“Love spicy shit. But you don’t, so doesn’t really matter” he shrugged. 

“Wha- Carmy. No! No you can eat spicy things, I feel bad. I don’t want it to always be what I like. Just like- make mine less spicy” I said. 

“It’s fine babe, I try spicy stuff here all the time. Plus the food I like with a ton of spice in it is usually Indian and Filipino and shit where the whole profile is about the heat and the spice so-“ I inturrupt him. 

“You like Filipino food?!” I asked and he nods 

“Yeah- why, do you?” He asks and I nod happily 

“My neighbor! Ms.Mendoza! She’s from the Philippines! Before you started bringing me dinner I’d usually stop by her place because she always made too much and asked me if I wanted it, you have to talk to her babe she’s like- amazing! I’m sure you guys will have so much in common she loves cooking- and she has like all these connections back home in the Philippines and they send her spice mixes and stuff for her to try. You have to try this stew- she calls it um..” I think for a moment “inew? Inihaw? Yeah- I think that’s it. Inihaw na leimpo! “ I said excitedly. 

“Oh- the lady- the lady I met?” He asked and I nod. 

“Yeah- I…I never asked- was she there when you got there?” I asked

“She- well” he chuckled. “Almost knocked me out with her cane cause I guess she thought I was trying to break in, cause I heard you screamin’ and I was trying to pick the lock, I told her I was a friend and she didn’t really believe me, but then she saw the flowers and she nearly dropped the keys getting the door open.” He said and my cheeks go pink. 

“I’m…I’m sorry- she’s like….such a grandma. She’s been hounding me about a boyfriend since I moved in don’t mind her pushyness about it. She’s been trying to hook me up with her friends grandsons left and right” I finished off my sandwich. 

“Well, she can stop looking now right?” He asks. 

I brushed my hands off before nervously picking at my nail polish at the question. “What does that mean?” I asked and the room went eerily silent for what felt like minutes. 

“Cause’…” he trails off. “Are you…are you still seeing other people?” He asks and I look over at him. 

“No. No, Carmy. No just you..are you?” I asked and he shook his head. “So…what does that mean?” I asked biting the inside of my lip nervously. 

“I…I dunno…” he looked at the clock. “I uh- I have to get out there, you still wanna hang out here?” He asked. 

I swallowed thickly, realizing that I didn’t want to be here all day if he was just going to run away. 

“So…what Syd said. You’re- you’re my boyfriend now?” I asked and he went pale as a sheet. 

I stare at him, waiting for a response, and he opens his mouth like he was going to say something but he closes it again, nervously rubbing his lips together. 

“Well- are you?” I ask. 

“So- so Y’re like…my girlfriend now?” He asked. 

“That’s my question, am I your girlfriend?” I asked and he shrugged. 

“I guess? I dunno…I’ve never done this I just…kinda assumed?” He said rubbing his neck nervously. 

“Well- I don’t remember you ever asking me…” I nudge his knee with mine gently. 

“You didn’t ask me to be your boyfriend either!!” He said. 

“Because I knew you’d freak out! And like- Y’re a masculine guy Carm I didn’t wanna make you feel insecure!” I exclaim. 

“Okay fine! Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, a small smile on his lips. 

“Hmmmmm….” I put my finger to my lips, pretending to contemplate. “Of course I will dummy” I pull him into a deep wanting kiss and he hums happily, gently rubbing over my hip with his palm. 

“Y’know y’mine baby I tell you like every day” he said, his breath fanning my lips. 

I look up at him, biting my lip to contain a grin. “I dunno…I thought you said it just t’like..please me when we fool around, I didn’t know you meant it.” I said softly. 

“I’d never say something I don’t mean baby, everything I tell you I really mean” he leans in, kissing me again. But this kiss was sweeter, somehow more intimate then the last. It felt…truthful. 

I gently cup his cheek, humming softly and he pulls away when the doorknob to the office starts to jiggle and someone pounds on it. 

“Chef?! We need more hands out here if we’re gonna be gettin’ this order out on time are you with us?” Tina calls through the door. 

“Duty calls” he sighs softly. “You know where to find me baby” he kissed my forehead sweetly before heading back out to the kitchen.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

[miraculousmultifan]

Foreigner's God

This fic was written for the @strangerthingswritersguild's Hozier Project where we each chose a song from Hozier's self-titled album and wrote a one-shot inspired by it. I chose Foreigner's God.

I also crossposted this fic on AO3 which you can read here.

Here are the tags (the fic will be under the cut):

Ship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Other Characters Mentioned Additional Tags: Presumed Dead Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Kas!Eddie, Post-Season 4, The Five Stages of Grief, Angst with a Happy Ending, Struggles With Religion, Mentions of Atheism, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Warning: I want to clarify, since I was having some struggles finding the right tag, that there is a lot of discussion about Christianity (namely Steve's relationship with Christianity and faith as well as his own grievances with other Christians and things like "how God chooses who gets a miracle"). My family is Christian, so there's a little bit of my own self-projection with Steve's internal monologue, but this is in no way meant as "Christianity Bashing"

If any of that is something you wouldn't like to read, I suggest you don't continue. This has been your warning! :)

Denial.

Kneeling over the man’s prone form, Steve refuses to believe he is truly dead. They get back to the trailer quickly, so surely there’s still a chance that he could make it. Right?

The Upside Down rattles with earthquakes, but Dustin’s tears are still louder in comparison. The man’s not dead because that would mean he left Dustin to grieve. He wouldn’t do that, so he’s not dead.

Steve dips his head down until his cheek is suspended a thread above his lips, waiting to feel a soft brush of air to prove that he’s still breathing. He wraps his fingers around his wrist like a pathetic excuse for a hand-hold as he tries to find a pulse. He stays like that for much longer than he needs to in the hopes of feeling a puff of breath, a thump of a heartbeat under his skin. 

It will come. It has to. Because he isn’t dead.

Nancy and Robin pull Steve and Dustin away from his body, even as their own bodies shake with sobs. The ground trembles as another earthquake runs rampant through the Upside Down, splitting the ground and spreading cracks through the dirt.

One by one, everyone leaves the Upside Down through the gate in the ceiling of his trailer. Without–

They leave him lying there. They leave him to rot.

Not that he can rot. Because he isn’t dead.

Anger.

Steve used to be a Christian. Back before the Upside Down. Back before he was pushed headfirst into actual hell.

He wasn’t exactly devout. He definitely didn’t follow the “no sex before marriage” rule or anything. But the faith aspect? The belief of a God that created them? An all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God? He believed that. He wanted to believe there was someone with the ability to protect them. To look after them.

Then he had to fight a six-foot, slimy, petal-headed monster to protect Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler. The same monster that made Will Byers go missing. The same monster that killed Barb in his pool. Where was God then?

God doesn’t exist. There is no possible way the God that is supposed to love them unconditionally and protect them would create something hell-bent on tearing apart every living being it came across.

Some people might assume the demogorgon, the Upside Down, all of it has to be the work of Satan. Steve knows better. Satan is only supposed to tempt you to sin. His goal is damnation, not death. That’s what he wants. Not vicious, violent creatures that kill innocent people for fun.

So, after Carver comes back from everything alive, surviving the earthquakes and rifts in the ground, and tries to spew bullshit about the kind of people God loves and the kind that he sends to hell, Steve knows he’s wrong. What ever happened to “love thy neighbor?”

While he isn’t a Christian anymore, he knows that Carver is simply twisting the words of the Bible to support his own malicious agenda, venting his grief over Chrissy by directing his rage onto a scapegoat. An easy target that didn’t deserve any of it.

It’s easy for Carver to blame him and call him a Satanist when the jock had a front-row seat to Max floating in the air, her limbs snapping like twigs. For a Christian with no experience with the Upside Down, blaming it on Satan seems like an easy out that requires minimal critical thinking.

But then Carver went from vague comments about sinners to using the Bible to turn Hawkins against him. Calling him a freak, a murderer, a Satanist. They deface his missing posters with devil horns and pentagrams, unable to let his name rest. After everything, they still won’t let him rest.

And Steve is angry. His heart is heavy with the weight, the hate, of Carver’s fucked up beliefs. Why does this jackass get to live when he is dead? Why does Carver get to run his name through the mud when he’s not even around to defend himself?

Carver is so scared of imaginary monsters that he can’t see the real ones that are haunting Hawkins.

He sacrificed himself for a town that hates him. A town that, even now, couldn’t appreciate what he’d done for them. Hawkins never deserved him. Not even the federal government could be bothered to clear his name. It’s much easier for them to hide the truth and paint him as the real villain rather than reveal him as the hero he really was. They’re the cowards. Not him.

Steve hates Hawkins. Steve hates the people who ruined the life of a boy whose biggest “crime” was dressing in edgy clothes, listening to loud music, and playing a nerdy board game. Steve hates the people that made him feel like a coward for trying to protect himself. Steve hates the people who taught him that he would only be redeemable when he was dead.

He hates God for letting it happen.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to kick and bite. Thrash and punch. He wants to shout from the rooftops about how the very man they scorn is the one who saved them all.

He wants to scream the name of a god he no longer believes in. He wants to curse a god that doesn’t exist. The purest expression of his grief, echoing through town.

Bargaining.

Steve would trade the ungrateful citizens of Hawkins if it meant he could have him back.

To the people of Hawkins, he’s just missing. With the lines of open gates, destruction on every corner, overcast sky, and endless ash floating in the air, some of them believe that whatever his agenda was, he had succeeded. They don’t know shit.

They pray to their god for a miracle. For someone to stop the murders. Stop “the devil” from wreaking havoc. As if their god actually had that power. Steve and his friends hadn’t laid down their lives for everyone to shout “miracle!” If they managed to defeat Vecna, Steve didn’t want God getting all the credit for it.

Miracles are bullshit anyway. Why should a god give miracles so sparsely? Why do some people get miracles and others don’t? God shouldn’t play favorites. How does he decide who deserves a miracle? 

Why hadn’t a true hero fit that criteria?

What “lesson” does God teach when he lets innocent children die without stepping in? What “lesson” does he teach his believers when he lets them invoke his name like a waiver as they hurt an innocent boy?

Sometimes Steve thinks that it should have been him instead. It was his fourth year dealing with the Upside Down; his winning streak had run its course. It was about time anyway. It should have been him.

Steve can’t fathom trading anyone else for him. It would either be the shitheads of Hawkins or Steve. Maybe the assholes in Hawkins Lab who released the Upside Down on all of them in the first place. Maybe the fucking feds that used him as a scapegoat instead of owning up to their mistake.

Depression.

Alone in his house, Steve sits on his bed in his room and stares down at the piece of clothing in his lap. He isn’t crying, but it’s a near thing.

Dustin hasn’t called in days, torn up by grief. Mike refuses to look at him, using him as an easy target to place his blame. Lucas is too busy sitting at Max’s bedside to be betrayed by Steve’s failure. Sometimes Erica comes over to sit on the couch with him and show him her dice or talk about My Little Pony, but they never talk about him.

Robin knows something is wrong, of course. They know each other so intrinsically that they don't have to speak to share their thoughts and feelings.

The thing is… Steve doesn’t want to talk about it. If he tried to open up, he’d have to find a way to pry the man’s name from his throat. Robin supports him like always, but he can tell that she’s starting to worry even more than usual.

He wants to cry. He wants to sit there and let himself cry, but he can’t. His eyes are deceptively dry, giving off the impression that he isn’t grieving even when he feels it every day.

Does he even have the right to grieve? Steve barely knew the guy! They’d only spent a week together and he had the audacity to grieve at the same level as someone like Dustin? Steve was being irrational.

Robin and Nancy could have handled Vecna, no problem. Steve never should have assumed being the distraction would be easy. That the distraction team would just hop back through the gate as soon as they played their part. Not when he knew how vicious and determined those bats could be.

The denim vest feels like it’s burning a hole through Steve’s legs. It’s selfish for him to keep it. Surely Wayne needs it more. 

But the two of them had sort of become friends, hadn’t they? They had joked together. They bonded over Dustin’s overconfident attitude. They…

Well, let’s just say Steve had to go through a bit of a bi-crisis in the midst of his mourning.

If Steve could only talk to Robin about this mass of grief, guilt, and what-ifs in his chest—if he could finally say his name—maybe he could finally break down into pieces. Maybe his numb exterior could finally reflect his shattered heart. 

Acceptance.

He’s dead. He’s dead, and he’s never coming back.

He was an ever-present pressure in Steve’s life for one short week before he vanished forever. And Steve can accept that.

They won’t have another opportunity to tease Dustin together. They won’t sit pressed on a couch together, their thighs brushing. He won’t lean too close into Steve’s space and bump their shoulders together. They won’t get the chance to say the things they left unsaid.

And now Steve will never know.

But he can accept that. He can because he has to.  Because they held his funeral. 

You don’t hold funerals for people who aren’t dead. So Steve just has to accept it. The sooner he can, the sooner he can move on.

…

Revival?

Something is in his house.

That’s the first thing Steve registers when he steps up to the front door. The wood by the handle is scratched up with claw marks, and the metal lock is on the ground, pulled out of the door and rendering Steve’s house key obsolete.

Instead of entering the threshold unprotected, Steve scrambles back to his car to grab the nail bat from his trunk. He considers getting his walkie out to ask for help but decides to scope out the situation first. Cautiously, he makes his way through the entryway leaving the door open behind him in case he needs to make a hasty escape.

He expects the house to be destroyed; valuables taken, glass shattered, and dirt smeared all over the linoleum tiles. There’s definitely mud tracked into the house, but the shape of the footprints is like nothing Steve has ever seen. From a distance, they might look like regular feet, but upon closer inspection, Steve notices that the toes seem elongated, the length of the feet bigger than any normal human’s.

Tentatively, Steve follows the footsteps with his bat tightly gripped in his fist. They lead up the stairs to Steve’s bedroom where the door is hanging slightly ajar.

Something is in Steve’s room.

It has long, leathery wings; ragged and tangled hair; sharp, pointed claws; and a thrashing, demonic tail. It moves around the room with shameless wonder, trilling to itself as it sniffs at the comforter on Steve’s bed, the clothes in his closet, and the denim vest on his desk.

The creature stops at the desk, pausing to smell the vest thoroughly, unconsciously giving Steve a view of its side profile. Strange… The monster bears a striking resemblance to–

“Eddie?” Steve breathed, his grip on his bat loosening as his eyes finally blurred with unshed tears. “Is that you?”

The monster whips around to face Steve, its lips pulled up into a snarl as its dark, human-like eyes stare sharp and steady, directly into the emptiest parts of his heart. Without a warning, the creature crowds into Steve’s space and starts sniffing him within an inch of his life. It runs its strangely human-like nose along the crook of Steve’s bared neck while its clawed hands hold Steve’s arms by his sides firmly.

Steve drops the bat, frozen in place. Now that it’s so close, Steve can see the similarities to Eddie in the monster’s face. Those same expressive Bambi eyes. The strong line of his nose. Those same plush-looking lips pulled back to reveal monstrous fangs. Even with the changes, there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that the creature before him is Eddie.

Then, when Eddie has apparently finished sniffing, he snuffles in Steve’s face, satisfied, and picks him up like he’s made of feathers. With seemingly minimal effort, he places Steve in the center of his bed and fluffs the blankets up around him, swiping his frighteningly long, black tongue up Steve’s cheek in a sopping wet lick.

Steve blushes, unsure how he should be reacting. “Eddie?” he murmurs softly once more, hoping to draw Eddie’s attention to the words leaving his lips.

Eddie chirps, climbing into the bed to join Steve and curling up at his knees. His wings flap, sending a burst of air across Steve’s face before they settle, and he faces Steve with his eyes relaxed and expression open.

With a nervous smile, still not sure what to do with his hands, Steve says, “Do you… recognize me?”

Another chirp and Eddie presses his forehead into Steve’s outstretched palms. 

“Okay,” Steve breathes, letting out a brief sigh of relief. “Can you speak?”

Eddie whimpers, hanging his head low. The sound is broken, raspy as though his vocal cords are struggling to produce the deep sound. Steve feels like he’s losing him all over again.

Mustering all the tender charm he can manage, Steve slowly reaches out to loosely hold one of Eddie’s hands. Eddie picks up his head to watch him, making no move to stop the motion, the only indication of his interest being the little flick of the end of his tail back and forth.

As gently as he can, Steve rubs his thumb against the inside of Eddie’s wrist and softly presses a kiss to his palm. “I’m glad you found me,” he murmurs, hoping that Eddie will understand the sentiment. “I’m glad you’re back.”

There’s no mutual language between the two of them for Steve to express it, and he knows he would only break if he tried to verbally convey it, but his entire being feels like it’s lit up with the broken love he holds in his cracked and shattered heart. Even if he said the words out loud, Eddie wouldn’t be able to respond in kind. 

Just like everyone else, leaving Steve wanting for something no one can give him. 

Steve lays back in his bed to stare up at the ceiling. All his grief is no longer warranted now that Eddie’s back, but despite that, he still feels as though he’s lost something truly important. 

His cheeks are still damp from the brief tears he shed at Eddie’s return, but when he goes to wipe them away, Eddie beats him to it. He raises himself up until he’s propped up on top of Steve and leans down to lick the tears away. It’s a little gross, but Steve appreciates it anyway.

With that task complete, Eddie flops down until his entire body weight is pressing down on Steve, laying on top of him like it’s a normal thing for friends to do. He nuzzles at the crook of Steve's neck and chuffs.

Steve chuckles nervously, a deep flush rising to his cheeks. “You alright there, Eds?” he manages to squeak out.

Instead of moving his head to look up at Steve, Eddie presses his face harder into Steve’s neck as a rumbling sound vibrates from the base of his throat. It sounds strangely like a purr.

Then, to Steve's immense surprise, Eddie raises his head and looks Steve straight in the eye. His eyebrows furrow in intense concentration as he opens his mouth. At first, only a low growl comes out before it slowly morphs as Eddie’s lips form around the word “…S-Steevie.”

Steve blushes a pretty pink. “Yeah. That’s me.”

Eddie snorts, though it reminds Steve more of a dragon huffing smoke from its nose than a laugh. He presses their foreheads together gently and Steve goes still beneath him. “Missed you,” Eddie grits out as though those two words took all of his effort. Then his face splits into a wide grin and he leans down to lick at the tip of Steve’s nose, reminiscent of an excitable puppy.

Heat blooms in Steve’s chest, and he struggles to hold back the warmth that wants to pour out of him from his fingertips. So, instead, he reaches his hand up to brush Eddie’s hair back from his forehead and smiles. “I missed you too,” he murmurs in response, trying to put all of his love into those four words.

Eventually, they’ll work on re-introducing Eddie to everyone else and giving him some speech therapy to help with his vocal cords, but for now, Steve is content to just lay there. He has no reason to grieve anymore. Not when he has Eddie back.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Wrap Around Pt. 3

Pairing(s): Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

Warnings: siblingxsibling implied, longing

Words: 2128

Summary: She should trust in his words, but it was a hard feat to accomplish when she saw the way they looked at eachother when believing no one was there. And Oberyn, brash and hasty Oberyn Martell who gave way easily to his overflowing passions.

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS

Part 1 Part 2   Part 4

"(y/n) couldn't sleep?" Ellaria asks, still bleary eyed from slumber. Peering outside onto Oberyn's balcony, Ellaria was able to spy two emptied glasses side-by-side. A perfect pair, much like Oberyn and (y/n).

"Who can sleep on a night like this?" Almost as if to prove a point, Oberyn wipes off a trickle of sweat that had started to creep down his temple. Even Ellaria felt the warm intensity of the Dornish night.

While the temperature took its toll on them, their playmate was sound asleep in bed. A sweet girl they had picked up with cushion soft lips and curves that made Oberyn's hands feel restless. Ellaria would have to remember to keep her on retainer.

Ellaria watched forlorned eyes look back at his bed chamber door where (y/n) had departed moments before. She knew her lover well enough to know his thoughts were on (y/n). The young princess may have assumed she hid her flustered complexion but it failed. For as much as she knew Oberyn, she knew (y/n) just as well. After all, she too used to be a young girl consumed wiyth a love that had no hope of flourishing. The throes and pains of a girl in love, Ellaria knew them all too well. Even worse was the sight of a man utterly infatuated. Cursed, the both of them were cursed yet Ellaria still loved the Martell siblings deeply and held no cruel judgement for they faced plenty in the outside world.

Her fingers beckon at Oberyn's arm. "Come back to bed."

Obedient, Oberyn follows Ellaria back to his canopoied bed tat had witnessed a multitude of paramours through out the years.

Too warm to actually slipk underneath the covers, they laid atop in just their bare skin. Ellaria reclines on her side, examining Prince Oberyn's fine features and his long black hair sprawled accross his pillow. Never had she met a more beautiful person than Oberyn.

"I feel eyes on me." He quietly chuckles, cracking one eye open to look over the shoulder of the girl that was between them.

Her lips perk up in a wry smile. Ellaria's chest grows heavy as her worries eat at her.

"What's wrong my love?"

"I'm worried, Oberyn, about you and-" Immediately she remembers the third presence in the room. Lips falter to finish her sentence. The girl seemed to be deep in sleep, but she could possibly be pretending. If anyone were to learn of Oberyn's afflictions, there could be trouble. Oberyn may have been well beloved in Dorne, but not even his own people would be able to accept this.

It was a worry she had voiced out before (y/n) took her trip to Essos. They had become too bold since Elia's death. Ellaria had at first chaulked it up to the siblings missing their elder sister. If even Doran could see it, then anyone could.

There's understanding in his voice when he speaks "Don't worry, Ellaria. I'm behaving muself. If I don't. . ." He shakes his head.

She should trust in his words, but it was a hard feat to accomplish when she saw the way they looked at eachother when believing no one was there. And Oberyn, brash and hasty Oberyn Martell who gave way easily to his overflowing passions.

"I'm sorry."

Befuddled, Oberyn positionsimself on his side; cheek propped up by his lefft hand. "For what?"

"That your ultimate love is impossible." It choked her up to admit it. She felt his pain so volatily and Ellaria wished there were some way to change things so that (y/n) and Oberyn could somehow love in the open.

He softly laughs to himself. "Oh well. Such is life. But it's a life where she can still be envolved regardless. That is the most important thing. And that she's happy."

The sad turth that made ellaria feel even more heartache for them. It was wrong to feel such a way for your sibling, Oberyn and (y/n) acknowledged this from the very beginning. Neither could resist the pull toward the other. They condemned themselves before anyone else could.

"Goodnight, Ellaria." Oberyn whispers and closes his eyes. Possibly to dream of his beloved sister, the only place he would ever be able to have her was in his dreams. Filled with her kisses and sweet laughter, the guiling caresses of her fingers; all for Oberyn's delight. He never spoke to Ellaria of his secret longing for (y/n). there wasn't the need to. but she wished that he would instead of bottling up his grief. Even when (y/n) had left Sunspear, Oberyn kept all of his sorrowful thoughts to himself. The toll it took on him was tii evident. Oberyn just hadn't been himself during her absence. Melancholy and moody, he hadn't even bothered to visit his favorite brothel. His lovemaking to her had thankfully remained the same, but after the fun was done it only took hours for reality to settle back in and remember (y/n) wasn't there.

Now it was Ellaria who couldn't sleep. Her thoughts ran tirelessly through her head.

He should have been ecstatic; finally after a couple of months (y/n) had sent Oberyn a letter. In fact there was a few scattered on his table. They must have all caught up.

Bent over his table with intrinsic tiles, hiis side profile was anything but happy.

Tyene pats Ellaria's arm, her own letters tenderly pressed against her breast. "He misses her even more now."

Blocking the view of her father, Nymeria holds up another rolled up message from her aunt. "there's one for you too."

Ellaria's long fingers grip the edge and pulls it forward. She weighed it along the bridge that her hand created. (y/n)'s signature imprinted in the wax seal: a serpent coiled between two flowers. Her own personal sigil. One time the princes had even joked that she already knew she would become a spinster. Never intending to marry if she could help it. (y/n) wanted to build upon her title and forge her own house. She was so much like Oberyn sometimes. Very different from her elder sister Ela. While Elia had been tender hearted with a weak constitution, (y/n) was rambunctious and hardy of body. In (y/n)'s early years, Elia had a difficult time of wrangling her younger brother and sister. Oberyn indulged in his baby sister too much and did everything he could to maintain (y/n)'s wild nature.

Ellaria had her own personal chamber that had a door off of Oberyn's antechamber. Easily cracking open the seal, Ellaria unrolls it chuckling to herself when she reads (y/n)'s messy handwriting. From her letter, she had just been in Norvos and went on to detail the three bells that practically governed the city's ciitizens. It was one of the Nine Wonders Made by Man that she had always wanted to visit.

From her letter, (y/n) sounded happy and having fun. Good, when the third anniversary of Elia's death came around (y/n) had become incredibly depressed.

The postscript at the bottomw asked Ellaria to keep an eye on her brother. (y/n) was worried about Oberyn and his well being during her voyage. They loved eachother so much.

Ellaria later found him in the eastern interior courtyard of Sunspear's palace. When he caught sight of her, Oberyn smiled pleasantly and coaxes her closer.

Sitting on his lap, she mvoes a lock of jet black hair and tucked it behind his ear. "Tyene mentioned that (y/n)'s letters made you even sadder."

Wanting to appear carefree in his response, Oberyn cracked a grin. "Ah, it's to be expected. She's beeen by my side since the day she took her first steps. Always determined to catch up to me. I have your love, but I can't help but feel-"

"Lonely?"

"You took the word right out of my mouth." he kisses her cheek. "Yes. . . I'm lonely without her."

"She'll be back sooner than you think. And I'm sure the two of you will stay up all night drinking and (y/n) telling you of her different adventures." Ellaria smiles at the own picture she had painted, already knowing that when (y/n) did comeback she would have plenty of stories to tell. She had that wanderlust that provided many great opportunities for her to experience.

Different people, different cultures, (y/n) wanted to dive into it and embrace this vast, exotic world.

Oberyn had gone on a very similar journey when he was younger. One of the few times (y/n) didn't accompany him. But she was still working on her studies and Doran did not want her to put a pause on them.

"I just hope that she does come back. Seeing the world feeds one's soul grealty. (y/n) might be tempted to stay and not return."

"You returned for her, she will return to you. Do not doubt her loyalty to you." Ellaria reminded him strictly.

He laughs. "You always keep me in check."

"I have to since (y/n) isn't around to do so. I promised her that I would keep an eye on you." Her tone was playful, tinkling like one of Norvos' bells.

Oberyn smiled before capturing his lover's lips in an intimate kiss."

On many mornings, (y/n) and Oberyn shared their breakfast together in one of the gallerys that had a lvoely view of the green foliage of the Water Gardens. Bright morning sun was already bestowing its warm glory and casting perfect light on his last surviving sister.

(y/n) was already seated, two guards keeping sentry in the tall archways that hid them in partial shadow. There was no better way to start off his day than with his sister. He would enjoy a delicious breakfast before starting his exercise regime that kept him in tip top shape.

When she turns her head slightly, her eyes catch Oberyn's approach. Immediately her defenses rise and she's straightening up in her seat. What happened last night was still fresh in their minds.

How decadent the valley of her cleavage had been, offering Oberyn a taste but never a bite. It was what they had agreed about. Those mere morsals would simplty have to be enough to satiate him.

"Good morning." (y/n) congenially smiles and motions toward the gold pitcher of wine. "Your favorite."

Her outward appearance was calm and cheery yet Oberyn could sense the caution that had taken her. This change always happened an intense encounter. (y/n) was attempting to check herself and not her feelings give way. Oberyn obligingly played along. "How kind of you." The spread before him looked exquisite with roasted lamb, fresh fruit, cheese and bread. Watching her gently pick up a square piece of cheese, Oberyn hears Ellaria's voice in his head. He could practically hear the sadness all over again.

Kind hearted Ellaria who only wanted the siblings to be happy. Their situation upset her dearly because she saw the hidden anguish they were both in. Not only for (y/n)'s sake, but for Ellaria as well, he wished that his feelings would go away. Such abnormal adoration toward his younger sister. It had always been there, even during his adventures to Essos and the Citadel. He had gone with the hopes that his feelings would disappear. That when he got back he would only see her as a sibling, no more, no less. His hopes were dashed when he had returned. Arriving just in time for her sixteenth nameday.

What had happened while he was gone to turn her into such a grown lady? Ellaria had been exstatic to show off how (y/n) had been learning to put makeup on some time ago and had lost most of her baby fat.

It would never go away if it hadn't by now.

"You better hurry up if you want a piece of this lamb. Otherwise I'm going to eat the whole thing." (y/n) teased and went in for another piece with her pronged utensil. The sun danced off of her gold jewelry that dangled from her wrists, they clang together when she moved.

"Have as much as you want. Until your heart is content." Oberyn smiles and breaks off a heel of bread to top off with cheese. He was willing to give his sister anything she wanted. Even willing to give up his soul to her if the need ever called for it. If she ever gave him the word to cross the line of their relationship, Oberyn would be all too ready to dive in headfirst into her flames.

(y/n) only need to say the word and he would become her's.

-----------

Taglist:

@hoziersfairy​

@rosaliedepp​

@iiconicxpersona

[sheepywritesfics]

Hey, you guys! 🥰👋

Thanks so much for tagging me @onthewaytosomewhere and @eusuntgratie !❤️❤️❤️

The more I write about redactedtaynick, the more I'm noticing that their dynamic is basically just this:

Nick: 🧍🏼‍♂️

Redacted: What an absolute loser of a man, I have to bully him as much as possible (affectionate) while desiring him carnally

Taylor, amused and 100% on board with all of this: Well, you don't have to

Redacted, already reducing Nick into a shy blushing mess: Nah, I'm gonna

Nick shifts on the tips of his toes the slightest bit, quietly peeking up at Taylor underneath his lashes with an unasked question burning in his eyes, one that Taylor's more than happy to answer; he kisses the top of Nick’s head then his temple before making a quick stop at his nose before finally kissing his lips, tightening his arms around Nick when the other man relaxes against him while ducking his head underneath his chin.

Nick's so pliant and silent that Taylor assumes he's gone ahead and fallen asleep right then and there as they stand beside the front door still hugging each other, but then he feels a kiss placed on his throat, feels the whispered words flutter over his skin when Nick says he missed him too and smiles.

"Nice pictures by the way Nicholas, of your new character, I mean," He calls from the kitchen while carefully cutting open the box, Taylor knows has his mask in it for game night inside it, on top of a counter. "They're really giving "Nerd who's always bullied for his lunch money and homework answers" and I think that's very delightful, don't you?

Nick's response is to poke his head around Taylor's body and do something with one of his hands that makes Him laugh so much that he doesn't stop until the box is cracked fully open and the knife he used is placed on the counter next to it.

No pressure tags ❤️: @bigassbowlingballhead @basil-bird @thinkof-england @almightaylor @firstprincehornyramblings @softboynick @blueeyedgrlwrites @bitbybitwrites @mossy-fae

@fivequartersoftheorange @stratocumulusperlucidus @fullerthanskippy