#i got like 4 hours of sleep so my brain is heavy

[fingertipsmp3]

So me and my friend unpacked that night terror I had the other night & basically I am now on a self-imposed horror ban because I genuinely think if I keep consuming horror with my current mental state I will have a full-blown psychotic break 😔✌🏻

[nerdie-faerie]

This has got to be the worst move out yet

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Diamond Rings 💫

Bale!Bruce Wayne x wife!reader

A/N: I finally got around to writing this lovely request!! Fluffy morning sex is perfect for Bruce AHHH 😭 and this is also the sequel to 'My Precious Jewel' !! Get your nom noms :3

~Fi 🐝

《Prompt》: the ask is here!

《Requested by》: anon <3

《Warnings》: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. Handjob, edging (barely), PiV, throat holding (???), creampie (don't be like them), lil bit of cockwarming, so fluffy it's sickening, Bruce is a hopeless romantic, change my mind. (You can't)

《Word count》: 2.6k

Sequel to My Precious Jewel ♧

Can be read as stand alone as well though!

Masterlist ✨️

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, tickling your face. You stirred, craning your neck to take a peak at the time. 8:39 am. You sighed sleepily, turning around and snuggling closer to the man who had his strong arms wrapped around you.

You smiled softly as you saw his peaceful expression, still dreaming away. Feeling a cold sensation on your hot skin, you gently lifted the covers. The hand that held you tightly yet so lovingly had a gold ring sitting on its ring finger. You quickly inspected your own hand, finding a golden wedding band there as well.

You had to stop yourself from squealing like a little girl when you realized that all of it, the wedding, the reception and the kiss weren't a dream. You were officially married now.

There were so many emotions bubbling up in your chest. Unbridled joy, disbelief, and pure excitement. But, you'd decided to deal with all of that later, and for now just enjoy your first morning snooze as Mrs. Wayne.

You pressed a sweet kiss to Bruce's lips, and closed your eyes, burying your face in his t-shirt clad chest. It wasn't even 9 in the morning. You'd sleep till dusk like this if you could. Safely in the embrace of your now husband, feeling each other's steady heartbeat and soft breaths.

A comfortable silence lingered over the estate, safe for Alfred who was probably doing all kinds of things already. You'd urged for him to sleep in today, he deserved a break. But, to your dismay, you knew the man and he couldn't just sit and relax even if he was chained to the chair. Well, as long as he enjoyed whatever he had to do you wouldn't complain.

Your slightly parted lips were pressed right above his heart, gently brushing the cozy fabric of his shirt with every breath. One of your arms was slung over his waist, your fingertips gliding over his back in whatever random pattern your wrist decided to carry out. It was a soothing gesture, making Bruce hum sleepily as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickling his face.

His arms tightened around you, making it clear that he didn't want to leave the bed either. He felt like he had been put in chains, in a loving and warm way, not in a constricting and controlling manner. The chains that were your love and affection kept him tied down, sinking into the soft sheets, with an even softer you in his grip.

"Don't ever wanna leave this bed..." you mumbled into his chest. A drowsy smile tugged at Bruce's lips as maneuvered you closer so your legs were intertwined.

"I don't either... never wanna be without you." He sighed, feeling the familiar and gentle call of sleep.

"Wanna sink into the mattress, let it swallow us whole."

Your husband chuckled softly. Lack of sleep and early mornings did tend to bring out the poet in you.

"You can tell me all about that in, say... 4 hours?" His words were jumbled, the heavy fog of slumber taking over his brain. It took you a minute to put together what he said, as your own brain was still neatly tucked in its own metaphorical bed.

The furrow in your brows softened when you understood what he was trying to tell you, and you pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you.

"Very, very good idea."

Soon enough, you slipped back into colorful dreams, safely tucked against Bruce's chest.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A strange feeling that settled in Bruce's bones is what woke him up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling by all means, it was just... odd. A peculiar buzz in his skull, that slowly trickled down into his spine. It was euphoric almost, making him hazy about his surroundings but too aware of every nerve in his body.

His shirt was soft, too soft, and the buttons on the pillowcase dug uncomfortably into his ribcage. The sliver of sun that managed to sneak its way through the thick curtains fell directly on his face.

His nose scrunched up as the blinding light slowly burned his eyes. Yet the warming and comforting feeling on his cheeks made him stay in place, taking in the new day instead of pulling the covers over his face.

He shifted slightly, shivering when a cool sensation set the nerves in his thigh on fire. The sight of your hand, your married hand, on his leg, made a fire ignite in his stomach that was so ravenous and destructive it could've turned him to ash from the inside out.

The gleaming of your ring, the ring that he put there, made his heart rush and his cock twitch in his briefs.

"Been waiting for you to wake up." With a sweet smile playing on your lips and a certain glint in your pretty eyes that he'd seen many times before, you stroked your thumb over his skin. Your touch made his breath hitch ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you. It never did.

You were able to read Bruce like an open book, all the tricks he'd acquired over the years and used on the public to shift his image didn't work on you. They never really had, even from the beginning. For some odd reason, that he couldn't explain, you could see right through him.

"Hm, yeah? Could've just woken me up, honey. You're my wife now, after all." Bruce grinned, a strong arm sneaking around your back and pressing you flush against his chest. Your cheeks were on fire. That word still flustered you to the high heavens, and you reckoned it would for a little while.

"It would've been a shame to wake you. You looked like you were crafted by the gods." You whispered softly, pressing your lips to his in a tender but hungry kiss. Bruce melted into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving gracefully against each other. With heavy breaths, puffy lips and glazed eyes you severed your connection.

"The sun sitting on your cheekbones," your fingertips traced over his face in such a gentle manner, one could assume you were afraid of breaking his peacefulness.

"And on your lips," your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, which curled up into a smile.

"Down your neck... it would've been a crime to break such beauty."

Your hand settled on the back of his neck and gently kneaded his muscles.

"I'm flattered, though no beauty can ever match yours, my love. You will eternally be the universe's rose, blooming in all your glory no matter if the sun shines or not."

"You need to stop reading all those books Alfred recommends to you." You giggled, an obvious blush on your face.

"I don't think I will." He smirked before capturing your lips in a kiss again. It was desperate and full of passion, making you sigh softly against his mouth. His hands became needy, grabbing at the fat of your hips. Bruce trailed his kisses over your cheeks, to your jaw and down your neck, sucking and gently biting at your skin.

You moaned quietly, your body sinking into the sheets at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Grabbing at the hem of his white shirt, you swiftly pulled it over his head, revealing his mouth-watering physique to you. The hand that had been resting on his thigh up until this point now cupped the tent in his briefs, stroking gently but with a firm hand.

He groaned into your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.

"None of that, baby, look at me." You cooed softly, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and gently pulling him away from your neck. Your hand dipped into his underwear and gave his cock a few strokes before shoving his briefs down his thighs.

Never breaking eye contact, you licked a fat stripe over your palm, guiding your hand down to his dick and rubbing at the tip. His lips parted slightly and few throaty groans left him.

"J-Jesus Christ, sweetheart, your hands really are magic." He breathed out, his head tipping forward just a smidge as you found a steady pace with your hand wrapped around him.

"Only for you, always for you.." you whispered against his cheek, feeling his breathing speed up. His hands were digging into your hips by this point as you circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum and your spit slicking him perfectly.

When you ran your finger over the underside of his shaft, against the bulging vein, pretty moans spilled from his lips as he approached his high. But before he could float on that cloud of bliss, you retracted your hand and left him hanging on the edge. His eyes were hazy and filled with need and desperation as he let out a frustrated groan.

"You're gonna regret that, little minx." Bruce smirked, but there was a fire in his eyes that made the heat in your belly boil over.

"Will I?" You challenged with a wicked smile, making him chuckle before smashing your lips together and silencing any further comment you might've made.

He pushed you onto your back and quickly pulled your nightgown over your head before sliding your panties down your legs.

Bruce's hands were placed on your inner thighs, pushing your knees further apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt, pupils swallowing the brown of his irises whole. Your naked form isn't something he hadn't seen before, but his mind was foggy with emotions of all kinds; the golden sunlight that painted your skin, the way your hair fell into your face, and that sparkly diamond on your finger making his heart swell in his chest.

You were his, through and through, and he never doubted it, but to see that solid piece of evidence sitting so nicely on your ringfinger made something stir in him; something primal, almost.

His hands trailed to your waist, kneading your flesh, as he leaned forward to be closer to you.

"I'd eat you till morning, honey, but I need to be inside you." You could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency and need in his voice, blanketing it in a soft and loving tone.

"I need you inside. Please, my love." You begged needily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in until his dick was prodding at your entrance.

"Besides," you whispered when his head found its place in the crook of your neck,"you can always have me for breakfast later."

With an amused huff, he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up delightfully.

"You'll be the death of me." Bruce groaned, intertwining your fingers on both hands and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your beautiful moans echoed softly in the bedroom when he started to slowly thrust his hips into yours.

The movement knocked the breath from your lungs every single time, your nerves tingling with a sizzling fire that crawled up your spine. He sped up his thrusts, moaning and groaning against your lips.

You pressed your hand against his chest to slow him down again.

"Slow, slow... wanna feel every part of you."

You could've sworn you heard the faintest whimper escape his throat, gripping your hands tighter has his cock dragged along your walls. You could feel every ridge and bump, your head lolling to the side in bliss.

With languid and deep thrusts, Bruce continued to bring the both of you to the edge of your ecstasy. As your moans got louder, you reached for the hand with his ring on it and gently placed it around your neck.

Your husband shifted his weight so he wouldn't fall on top of you, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You placed your ringed hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You just wanted him to gently hold your throat, wanting to feel the cold metal against your burning skin.

"You won't hurt me, I promise. Jus' need you to hold me- fuck!" You cried out at a particularly deep thrust, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into the back of Bruce's hand.

"Look at you. My pretty fucking wife. All mine. I made you mine, and everyone knows. They just need to look at that pretty diamond ring on your finger." His voice dropped an octave, and his words were almost a growl as he plunged in and out of you.

"You're s'good to me, honey. The perfect husband f'me." You moaned, your lips clumsily brushing against his as he panted on top of you.

"God, I love you." He grunted, his movement becoming sloppy as he was nearing his climax. You could feel the bliss gnawing at your limbs as well. Bruce trailed his hand between your bodies and circled your puffy clit, which only made you succumb to the pleasure faster.

"F-Fuck- oh my god, I'm so close!" You almost screeched, trying to ground yourself with him in any way you could.

"Come f'me, yeah?" He heaved, struggling to get the words out between his groans. Any more moans and cries were muffled as his lips greedily found yours, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again.

With a a strategic swipe over your clit and a well timed thrust, your orgasm crashed into you, jumbled 'I love you's falling from your lips as Bruce spilled inside of you with your name on his lips. The hand around your throat tightened only a little bit, prolonging your high that much longer as bliss clouded your brain.

Bruce gently lowered himself on top of you, steadying his breathing against your chest. You were catching your breath as well, tracing patterns on his bare back. He was still nestled deep inside of you. He rolled the two of you over so you were on top of him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.

"I love you so much." You mumbled, eyes falling shut. You didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter to you. You had nowhere to be except right here, snuggled against your husband.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Are you alright? D'you need anything?" he asked softly, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

"Hm, no. Jus' wanna stay like this. Maybe take a nap." You yawned, making Bruce chuckle.

"Do you need anything?" You questioned in return, placing a kiss to

his shoulder. "I could use a nap as well." He laughed softly, pulling the covers over the both of you.

"Good. Cus' I'm not getting up." You sighed, letting yourself be loved by him. His hands lazily ran through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, baby." He whispered against your hairline, coaxing a sleepy smile onto your lips.

"You too, my love."

Both of you drifted off with the sun high up in the sky, not a care in the world that it was well past noon. Your hearts beating in sync, your soft breathing mimicking each other and connected deeper and closer as ever, the bonds of your love shinning in the dwindling sunlight with your hands intertwined.

If Bruce could make you wear his heart, he would, but for now the diamond ring would have to do.

You were his and he was yours. The perfect balance of love.

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《Taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny

Let me know if you want to be added! <3

[wistfulforstars]

For What It's Worth - Part 4

Rex x Reader

Summary: You wake up to someone special. A lot of feelings come out in the process.

Warnings: reader is afab, reader is hurt, language, discussions of violence, Rex tries and fails miserably to break up with you, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Tag List: @bambiswriting @jessyhazy

If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

In hindsight, you wished your awakening was a little more gentle, a little more romantic. Mostly, you were just sore and bitchy and ready to fall back into the release of sleep. 

Ow-ow-fuckity-ow, I need water-I need the bathroom-I need my MEDS, cocksucking-motherhumping-OW!

It was the middle of the night, this you could tell from behind your still-closed eyelids. Your large window would be letting in a LOT more light otherwise. It was quiet for Coruscant, the traffic noises and ever present hum of neon seemed to have dampened for the moment. Or it could be the brain damage you reminded yourself. Pretty good concussion you’re sporting there, kid. You and that durasteel wall became very fast friends, didn’t you?

Clearly, you needed more sleep. But to do that, you needed your meds. And to take your meds, you needed to get to some water. Your bathroom wasn’t far, but you hadn’t stood up by yourself yet. Not that that mattered right now. You certainly weren’t going to wake up Tia at this hour, after all she’d done. It sounded like she was sleeping in the chair again, even after you had told her to go home and get some real rest. At least she was in a deep slumber, heavy breaths and a slight snore coming from that corner of the room. 

You sighed, and wrenched your weighty eyelids open. It took a moment to focus, having been asleep for so long. You stared at your ceiling, then looked to the left, where your bathroom lay, then to the right, trying to get your eyes moving a little. Tia sure was snoring up a storm tonight…

You inhaled sharply, irritating your broken ribs. Hissing, you stared, stunned, at the reclined figure in your grandmother’s chair. 

Rex. 

Your heart swelled for a moment, before sinking back into your chest. He’d come home, safe and sound…and you weren’t conscious to greet him. What’s worse, you weren’t awake to tell him the sorry-honey-I-got-into-a-little-trouble story yourself, and who knows what conclusions that brilliant man had reached on his own…

He had taken off his armor from the waist-up, his blacks showing off the lovely curve of his shoulders, the muscle of his arms. He leaned back, arms crossed, a slight frown marring his otherwise peaceful face. You wanted to go over there and see if you could wipe it from his features entirely.

Pain started to blossom behind your eyes, reminding you of your current task. Meds. Sleep. Talk to Rex in the morning. With more confidence than you really felt, you pulled back your covers and sat up straight. That hurt way more than you expected it to, a sharp pain blossoming up from your side. The bathroom was looking farther and farther away, but you were determined, and so you slowly swiveled your bruised and scraped legs, your swollen ankle sliding towards the edge of the mattress. Gritting your teeth to avoid waking your sleeping beauty in the corner, you gingerly placed your bare feet on the floor and prepared to push off the bed. One…two…three…

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You squeaked, falling fully back into the blankets, before clutching at your screaming ribs. “Sonuvabitch!”

Rex crossed the distance  between you in two perfect strides. He kneeled before you, hands flitting here and there, trying to find some place to steady you that wasn’t bruised or battered. “Careful, cyare,” he whispered.

You breathed through the pain, deep inhales as you went to grab his wrist, “Didn’t know…you were home.”

If he had any reaction to the referral of your apartment as home, he didn’t comment. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Bathroom…meds…water.”

“Then you should have woken me,” he chastised, before you were swept up, gently as if you were made of glass, into his strong arms. 

“Rex!” you hissed, but surprisingly, your ribs didn’t twinge, your head didn’t spin. 

It took only a few steps to get to the bathroom. He hesitated at the toilet, before asking, “Can you stand by yourself?”

You shrugged, “You interrupted my first try.”

He nodded, brown eyes gentle. “Bear with me then, cyare. I’m going to help you with your pants and get you sat down, then I’m going to turn around, alright?”

“Oh…okay.”

He did just as he said he would, without fuss or complaint. His eyes and his hands didn’t linger, and the whole affair was much less awkward than you thought it would be. You were redressed and back in his arms in a matter of minutes. 

You carried the pill bottle and the water he had procured while Rex took you back to bed. Your heart thumped as you approached the mattress. How many times had he carried you to bed, under entirely different circumstances?

“Will you sleep in the bed with me?” you asked, your voice small.

“Not tonight. I don’t want to accidentally bump anything,” was his simple answer.

“Then move the chair closer? Please?”

He did, after he had you settled. And as tired as you had felt before, you couldn’t seem to wrench your eyes away from him to go back to sleep. His face was calm, far too calm for the situation. The light in his eyes seemed strained and fractured. But you knew what kind of man you had chosen, and he was too good, too chivalrous to bring up his inner turmoil while you were injured and bedridden.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t awake when you got back,” You met his eyes, but he turned away almost as soon as you did. His bare hands were trembling.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” his voice was raw, and showed more emotion than he probably intended.

“Still,” you insisted. “I always want to be the first to see you when you come home.”

There was that word again, home. You weren’t sure why you were feeling so bold tonight, but perhaps near-death experiences just did that for you. Perhaps that was how Rex got to be so brave.

You glanced at your side table, and smiled. Your lip twinged, “You brought me flowers again. Zeira’s?”

Rex seemed to start out of a daze. He glanced at the flowers as if he’d forgotten all about them, “Oh… yes.”

“Rex,” you called firmly. “Look at me. Talk to me.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes closed, “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you want me to tell you about it?

“No-” he started, then cut himself off. He pressed his lips together hard, and breathed. His eyes fell back open, searching yours, and you closed a hand around his shaking one. He nodded, “I want to know what happened. From you. But only if you want to. Only if you can.”

You gave him a small smile, nodded, and sighed, “I’ll get this out of the way first: Partway through it, I provoked them. On purpose. Half of these bruises wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t taunted them, if I’d just stayed quiet and let them go on their way. I think they were mainly drunk and immature and really hated my button collection, because they focused on that way more than they did on me, at least at first. But I…I wanted them to get caught. I used the comm line you gave me, to Fox, and I knew the corries were on their way. I wanted these little shits waiting for them. So, for your sake, I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I played fast and loose with my safety, my body, so the CG could catch them.”

Rex gazed at you, stunned, incomprehension in his eyes, “You Fives’d them.” He muttered, and he brought his other hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Force save me, you ran your mouth and took on the punishment to distract the enemy till backup arrived!”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” you shrugged. “And I am sorry that you had to see me like this because of it. That wasn’t…all I wanted was for the corries to get there and take them away, so I could get back to you.”

He stopped pinching the bridge of his nose and scanned your face, his sharp soldier’s eyes filled with longing, “How…how did they get you in the first place? Did they follow you home or…?”

You gripped his hand as hard as you could with the brace on your arm, bolstering yourself against the memories, “They didn’t follow me, at least not that night. But it seemed like they might have seen me go into the hospital and were waiting for me to come out. It happened so…so fast, that it’s hard to think that they weren’t, I dunno, lurking.”

Your gaze had dropped to your lap as you told this part, but you knew he was horrified. You could feel the indignation, fear, and fury rolling off of him in slow, barely-controlled waves. But now that you’d started telling the story, you couldn’t stop. This was more than you’d told Fox during his interview, more than you’d told Tia any time she’d gently prompted. You had to finish, had to get it all out.

“They pulled me into the alley first, knocked my face against the wall. Said some shit to me I don’t remember. Took my backpack. One of them bent my arm backwards, and then…then it gets hazier. I’d pressed the button on my comm at that point. They just kept yelling at me and well, it pissed me off. These stupid little boys who couldn’t have been much older than teenagers were attacking a grown woman on the way home from work at a clinic, and who the hell were they to pull this kind of shit? And, well, you know how I get when I’m pissed,” you chuckled a little and grinned at your boyfriend, but he didn’t so much as crack a smile in return. 

“Anyway, I called them stupid little limpdick fuckers, or something equally ridiculous. Insulted their mothers for raising them, maybe. And before I knew it, the one holding my arm whirled me  around and backhanded me across the face.”

Rex took in a sharp breath, and you reached your hand out to touch his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. At your coaxing, his pinched-shut eyes opened, and you saw the tears lurking in their corners. He ever so gently reached out and held your wrist, turning his head to kiss your fingers, your palm. Little worshipful things against your scratched skin. The pressure at your wrist increased for just a moment, like he was finally losing control of himself, before those well-built walls snapped down into place. He held your hand to the side of his face, to his jaw, mirroring the bruise on your own, “Keep going,” he pleaded, eyes filled with something so hard and brittle it might break.

The words came fast and unbidden now as you gazed into his eyes, unable or unwilling to look away, “I reeled back and fell. As soon as I hit the ground they gave me two swift kicks to the ribs. I felt them break, but the pain didn’t register until later. I was so mad. I think one of them punched me in the face at one point, and that’s how I got two black eyes, the bastards. But mostly it was pushing me into walls and shoving me back onto the ground. I twisted my ankle pretty badly, and my hip took one hell of a check from the corner of a dumpster, but most of the bad damage was done already. They were running out of steam by then, maybe sobering up, and the corries arrived a few minutes later. I got two days in the hospital, and now I’m on two weeks of near-total bed rest which, honestly, is probably what I’m most irritated about.”

You breathed in and out, trying to steady yourself. You didn’t know what else to say, really. Your boyfriend was probably running your story over in his head, trying to find a reason, a why, but at this point, you didn’t really care to know. Assholes did asshole things, and while you weren’t happy with it, while you would have trouble sleeping for who knows how long, you had decided you were satisfied with the pile of charges Fox had gleefully dropped on your attackers’ heads. That, you figured, was enough. 

But Rex looked hollow, broken, haunted. Glassy-eyed and horror struck. And you weren’t totally sure how to make it better.

“Hey,” you called. “You’re far away, trooper. Come back to me.”

That laser-sharp intelligence snapped into place, and Rex went back to scrutinizing your face, searching, wondering, worrying.

 “Ner cyare,” He murmured. “You’re leaving something out.”

“What do you-”

“I talked to Fox. He has a theory.”

You wrinkled your face, “I heard Fox’s theory at the hospital. So they attacked me because they didn’t like my backpack-”

“It was because of me,” you’d never heard his voice this empty, this listless.

“Stop that, it was not because of you-”

But Rex had finally snapped. His anger, his worry, his sheer terror all came boiling up to the surface. “They attacked you because you showed support for clones!” he bared his teeth, dropped your hand. “You had a few buttons on a backpack, and you were almost killed for it! What if one of them had a blaster? What if they weren’t stupid kids, but actually part of the anti-clone movement, and they wanted to make a statement? What if they decided that a clone had touched you, so everyone else was allowed to as well?”

He stood, and started pacing back and forth. His hand reached for his holstered blaster, thumbing at the handle while he raged through your tiny bedroom. “Three pounds of shit in a two pound sack beat you to hell because you implied you might support clone rights. Can you imagine what could happen to you if someone actually found out that you were with a clone? That a filthy meat droid had laid his hands on you?!”

You flinched back, only a little. This was the first time Rex had ever raised his voice in front of you. But, ever the tough medic, your ire rose just as quickly, “Don’t you dare call yourself-”

“And why shouldn’t I?” he seethed, all guilt and fury. “It’s not inaccurate, cyare. I’m genetically engineered republic property that’ll probably be decommissioned as soon as the war is over. You can’t tell your family you’re seeing me. We can’t even go out to most public places. I own nothing, I am nothing-”

“You are mine!” you growled, surprising you both with your ferocity. You clutched your side, which was aching in time with your heart. Rex froze, but you barreled on. He needed to hear this, and you might waste away into nothing if he convinced himself to walk out that door. “My friend, my lover, my favorite person in the entire galaxy! The Republic can’t have you, and shriveled little dicksacs on the street can’t take me from you, and you sure as hell don’t get to call it quits because of some nonsensical martyr complex!”

“I’m not-”

“Can it, soldier,” you noticed how he stood up a little straighter at your tone, and stuffed down your sense of pride for now. You were done with this. He was being ridiculous, and it was hurting both your hearts. And your cracked ribs. You took a deep breath.

“I know you, Mister Upright and Noble Captain! I know how you operate!” tears started forming in your eyes now. “And you are not going to make us both miserable by leaving me for the sake of my safety! This isn’t some net melodrama, and the only way you get to deprive me of the best thing in my life is if I’m making you unhappy! Got it?”

Rex looked like he’d been hit upside the head. Clearly at a loss for words, whatever retort he’d been preparing was lost in the collection of babble spilling from his lips, “I…best thing…no, I can’t be…best thing… you could find someone-”

“You are the best thing in my life. I’m not finding someone else,” you recited firmly, raising your chin.

Rex placed his head in his hands, slumping heavily back into his chair. The fight had clearly left him for now. He shuddered as you reached out to him.

“I’m sorry, Rex, if this is hard, if my choices cause you too much stress on top of what you’re already forced to deal with,” you stroked his short shaved blonde hair. “But I choose you, and whatever else comes along with it. It’s clear to me now, that I need to be more careful, and I can adjust. But… if it’s too much, if the worry and the guilt isn’t worth it for you-”

He suddenly grabbed both of your hands again, bringing your knuckles to his lips. He let them sit there while he gazed into your eyes and mumbled, “It’s worth it. You’re worth it. But you have to understand, I’m not worth all-”

“Oooh, so close,” you shook your head. “But you do not get the reassuring your girlfriend points today. Try again without the self deprecation, please.”

He stared at you, and you swore there were moons and suns and planets in those eyes. All the things he’d seen, all the places he’d traveled. Rex looked unbearably tired. But he slowly sighed and nodded, kissing your knuckles again, “Alright…alright cyare. You’re worth it. You’re always worth it.”

“Full-stop? No caveats?”

“No caveats, ma’am.”

One of your tears finally slipped out of your eye and down your sensitive cheek, “Thank you.”

“But I never want to see something like this happen to you again,” he gestured to your bandage, your bruises. “I don’t think you understand what happened to my heart when I saw you lying there. It collapsed on itself, cyare, like a dying star. I won’t live through that a second time.”

Your eyes shone at his sweetness, his sincerity, and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up, “Got it. No more provocative buttons.”

“No more shitty job posts,” his jaw was set.

“But-”

“No buts, ner karta,” he shook his head. “I can compromise on some of the weird ones, but the seedy district clinics, with no security cameras and medics with suspended licenses-”

“Hey! We’re licensed!”

“Cyare.”

You sighed, “Fine. We’ll go through my usual assignments together, cut the worst ones from the rotation.”

Rex smiled, “Thank you. That means more than you will ever know.”

You grinned back, “I’m just happy you’re not leaving me.”

“That would be…very difficult,” he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

Your tone took on a teasing lilt, “Please,” you rolled your eyes. You took on a very poor imitation of his voice. “You could always find someone-”

“I was going to tell you I love you tonight.”

Your mouth fell open, and despite all the other confessions you’d given each other, you gazed up at your trooper with newfound awe. His eyes seemed…settled, certain for the first time since you woke up. He quirked up the corner of that gorgeous mouth in the half smile that first charmed you, all those months ago. 

He gestured to your nightstand, “That’s what the flowers were for.”

“Rex,” you breathed. “You’ve got to know by now. It’s been written all over my face for the longest time. I love you.” You hooked your good arm around his neck and pulled him forward, “I love you. I love you.”

The kiss was gentler than you would have liked, but you knew why. Rex was allowing you both this moment, but you could see from the way he inspected your jaw once he pulled away that you would not be getting anything more intense than a brush of the lips for a while. Sweet man, damn him. 

He helped you finally take your pain pills, and you were halfway unconscious by the time he laid you back on the pillows. That didn’t stop you from continuing the conversation.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I will.”

“Try to get some sleep. Take the couch if the chair gets uncomfortable.”

“Alright, ner karta.”

“And if you ever call yourself a filthy meat droid again-”

You weren’t sure what you would do if it came to that. You fell asleep before you could finish the thought.

[wildemaven]

fall apart, again : chapter one | joel miller

Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x OFC!Genevieve

WC: 5k

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Heavy on the Angst, post-outbreak world, no specific age mentioned but reader is close in age to Joel, minor character death, Ellie and her smart mouth, leaving the rest to read at your own risk to not spoil things, reader has a name but there are zero references to her appearance/she’s a blank slate character, 2nd POV, this is way AU so can be read as Game Joel or TV Joel

A/N: I’ve been so excited and nervous for this series. I don’t have a timeline for posting with this one, just going to take my time with it. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me wrack my brain over this series and for being my second set of eyes!! Please go check out her new Dieter Series!!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Inspo Board

Next

Spring was slowly transitioning into the next season. 

Bright fragrant blooms wilting away into the dry soil from where they were born— a poetic reminder of the time. 

21 Summers. 

21 years of surviving. 

Enduring. 

Remembering—  the normal life before the outbreak that you mourn daily. 

A giant Bur Oak lends itself to you, branches providing ample shade as you sit resting against its sturdy trunk, the ground cool beneath where you sit. 

The harsh sunlight filters through the tree’s canopy, a warm dapple light speckled all around you. 

There’s a gentle flicker to your left that catches your attention, a single light-ray hits the small diamond on your dainty gold band where it sits heavy on your ring finger. You hold your hand up, remembering back to when you both had found it, he had immediately dropped to his knee— it wasn’t much, but it was perfect. 

“I give you this ring as a reminder that we face this world together. We’re an unbreakable team.”

Even after all these years and the circumstances of the world around you, it’s a vow you stand by. 

Branches above rustle and crack as a breeze sweeps through, the edges of the paper that is resting on a book in your lap fold over with each small gust, drawing your attention back to the words you’ve written. 

…We passed what looked like it was a small farm at one point. It made me yearn for normalcy. Where we could settle into the small farmhouse, drink our morning coffee on the wraparound porch while we watch the sun rise. Have all the animals that would give a homestead atmosphere. A coup of chickens where we would gather eggs daily, a flock of sheep and goats for milk, and a small herd of cows— because what’s a farm without some cows I can give silly names to. 

We’d raise a family in that farmhouse— lots of babies running around to wrangle. Breakfast of pancakes and fresh eggs, all of us together around our table, then tucking them all in at night after we’ve read them several stories. 

We’d lay in each other’s arms as the crickets sing their chirping songs. A breeze washing over us through the open windows, the evening air lighter and crisp as the night fades and our worn bodies succumb to sleep. 

There wouldn’t be heartache or sadness. No fighting or stressing over jobs. We’d be happy. We’d be together… 

“Eve! Let’s get goin’— we only got a few more hours of light left. Should be at the cabin before sundown.” The thick Texas twang breaks through your thoughts. 

Steve standing off in the distance, his blonde hair disheveled and wind blown as he looks back to where you’re tucked under the tree. 

He’s handsome in his own right, not someone you would have ever found yourself with in different circumstances, but now you wouldn’t know how to function without him. 

A chance meeting the day of the outbreak had brought the two of you together. 

You were working as a traveling nurse at a hospital 4 hours from where you lived, instantly going into crisis mode as lead of the trauma response team, the ER quickly overwhelmed with patients seeking treatment for bites or flu-like symptoms— it was unlike anything you had ever seen before in all your years as a nurse. 

Steve, a retired detective, was on vacation with his wife visiting a friend before the initial outbreak happened. The morning of, he’d gone on a duck hunting trip, while his wife went to breakfast with some girlfriends at a local Waffle House. He had brought her into your ER when he noticed she was acting strangely, similar to the symptoms the news was reporting as a widespread epidemic. Her outcome was not hopeful as you did your best to administer vials of antibiotics and fluids, the infection moving through her was beyond anything you could treat. 

It was Steve who made the call to abandon his wife and the hospital and the realization hit fairly quickly that there was less you could actually do to help others. 

Fleeing the area, seeking solace in one another as you both navigated through quarantine zones— searching for familiarity in your former hometown, only to be met with decimation and nothingness. 

Steve’s way around a gun helped keep you safe when evading FEDRA, the nursing kit you put together came in handy when stitching him up between shootouts and fighting off the infected— this was now your new normal. 

As the years progressed, you both found contentment with each other. Security gave way to a sense of comfort and revival, falling into a deeper connection beyond two people surviving a post outbreak apocalypse— if you were going to be in each other’s lives, you might as well be fully committed. 

“Eve! Pack your shit up— let’s go!” He spits out a little harsher, no real malice behind his tone— he likes to stick to his schedule. 

You don't respond, folding your letter carefully then tucking all of  your items into your canvas pack.  Standing to your full height, you give your legs a minute to let the blood reacquaint fully, your hands brushing the bits of dust and weeds from your pants. 

You hear Steve continue his huffing, as you make your way closer to where he’s standing. 

“I thought I told you to knock it off with those pointless letters!” He gruffs, hands secure at his hips and his head cocked to the side, hoping to catch your gaze. 

Your letters. They had become a loose journal, your stream of thoughts you needed to get out so you were not plagued by the pain and anxiety that came with them whirling around your brain. 

Letters to your past, letters to a new life that awaits you and sometimes to no one at all— you wrote about your travels, things you missed or longed for now, hope for the future. 

They were too much to keep, pages and pages filled with your words and stories, some containing memories too painful to read or share, a weight you didn’t want to carry, so you scattered them throughout your travels. In the last 21 years, you’ve written hundreds of them, dropping them in abandoned mailboxes, or tucked away in the abandoned spaces you’d settled into in passing, as if to send them to whomever you were writing to— leaving a trail of your life across cities and states. 

“And I thought I told you to stop calling me Eve— guess we don’t always get what we want?” You had asked him multiple times over the years to not call you Eve, that was your former life and you hated the reminder, but you know he doesn’t do it out of spite. 

The gravel crunches under your boots as you walk past, not looking to argue with him in the heat of the sun. 

Steve’s hand reaches out clasping around yours, halting your movements, his eyes fixed on you, furrowed brows as if he wants to say something. 

“Hey— Ya know I love you, right?” He sighs, his fingers toying with the gold band on your ring finger. 

You look to where your hands are joined, the twisting of the gold band a small gesture of his when things get tough or tense, you smile when you meet his gaze again. 

“I know.” You do know, and you feel it too. “Come on, we’ve only got a few hours of light left.” He shakes his head, but gives you a smile at the way you throw his comment back at him. 

*

It had been close to 2 hours of walking, nearly dark, by the time you both made it to the cabin, nestled among dozens of other abandoned cabins on the hillside of an old ski resort. 

You imagine it was a popular spot in its prime, filled with families taking their kids on their first snow trips, friends racing each other down the slopes, non-skiers enjoying warm beverages in the lodge while everyone else enjoyed the snowy weather. 

Now desolate and forgotten, a stop for raiders on the hunt for supplies and hostages or survivors seeking refuge in search of a town just north of here, Jackson. 

Steve had managed to trade for a hand-held CB radio early on, he kept tabs on chatter that happened among FEDRA, staying one step ahead of their whereabouts. At some point he had stumbled upon private channels used by other survivors, he didn’t talk much about what they discussed with you, it was his realm of expertise and a small thing that was just his, so you didn’t push him to share more than what he was willing to. 

It was a year ago he had connected with someone and heard about Jackson. There was an offer for a place for a fresh start, a community of other survivors, somewhere to feel safe and comfortable without fear of being attacked, placed in solitary confinement, killed— or infected. Steve decided it was where you both were meant to be, hashing out a plan and specific route on his tattered map, making sure to stay in constant contact with this person in Jackson as you both traveled. 

Venturing further into the resort, you both settled on the lesser marred of the dilapidated cabins.

“I’m gonna check the perimeter, you go on inside— check each room first, I’ll be right in. But remember, if I’m not back in ten minutes, you don’t come looking for me— you wait until morning and you head over that mountain, under no circumstances do you leave that cabin before sunrise.” Steve instructed, his hands on your shoulders reassuring the doubt he can see written all over your face. 

“Steve— W-what if, there’s something inside—“ Your voice is barely a whisper, nervousness creeping in as your hands grip onto Steve’s wrists that have moved to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing across the apples of your cheeks. 

“We’ve done this a million times before, I know you can do it— I wouldn’t send you in there if I didn’t think you were capable, you’ll be fine. Just think, this is the last time we have to do this. Then it’s you and me, in Jackson, together and safe— ‘kay?” His direct eye contact really drives home the message— together and safe.

“Okay.”

“I love you, go be brave.” Romantic and encouraging as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you— be safe, please.” 

“Always.” He shoots a wink with his mustached smile, a few slow steps backwards then turning to make his way up the backside of the cabin, pulling the butt of his rifle close to his chest, hunched and scanning every inch of the surrounding area. 

The cabin would seem warm and inviting if the possibility of a Clicker behind the door wasn’t a high probability. 

Armed with the knife Steve insisted you keep on you at all times, your refusal at his request for you to carry a gun, you make your way up the front steps. 

Each move was slow and calculated, the wood beneath your boots wobbled and creaked the closer you got to the front door. The handle is cold to the touch as you twist it open, pushing the door with a little extra effort to unstick it from the doorframe. 

It’s dark and musty, uninhabited by the living and anything beyond that at first glance. Dust and cobwebs cover every surface, pictures still mounted on the walls slightly hanging uneven. A floral couch with two side chairs still arranged in an inviting way, waiting to be enjoyed during a long conversation. The kitchen was small but large enough that it still would have been possible to whip up a hearty meal over the stove, then gather at the tiny table to enjoy the meal and dessert. 

You’re grateful the floor plan is an open space, no immediate threat to you upon entering. 

There’s only two doors, which you assume hide a bathroom and a bedroom. 

The first door reveals nothing but a sink, toilet and shower-tub combo— you’re looking forward to a hot shower when you get to Jackson. 

You stare at the closed remaining door, the handle of the knife twisting in your hand as you prepare yourself, not really feeling like you have it in you to take out anything that might be waiting for you on the other side. 

A deep breath in, reaching for the the handle you give it a quick jiggle announcing your presence, twist and a quick swing open— a queen size bed draped in outdated sheets, bedside tables with lamps covered in a layer of dust, a dresser opposite the bed with a giant mirror hanging above it. 

Empty. 

Relief washing away the dread. 

Stepping into the room, you toss your pack and knife onto the dresser before finding a seat at the end of the bed, the mattress shifting under you, the springs groan as you settle into a comfortable spot. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since you entered the house, noting it’s been a while since you had heard or seen anything from Steve, but knowing he likes to be thorough, you’re hoping he makes his way through the front door soon. 

The moon has crept into the night sky, shining through the small bedroom window, illuminating the reflection staring back at you. 

Sometimes you forget how long it’s been since you’ve seen what you really look like. While it’s you that you’re staring at in the mirror, you feel slightly unrecognizable to yourself— aged by 21 years in every sense, tired and worn down by the state of the world and lack of sleep. 

Your fingers lightly trace over your skin, taking in every detail, rediscovering every angle of your appearance— the old characteristics blending into the new ones. 

A yawn escapes you, remembering what Steve had said about not leaving, you decide to get yourself comfortable in bed and wait for him. 

Kicking your boots off, you crawl up the length of the bed, plopping your head down onto the stack of lumpy pillows, your mind wandering as you run through all the scenarios as to why Steve hasn’t returned yet, debating whether you should go take a look outside or listen and wait for morning— scared of what you might find waiting for you. 

Your eyelids begin a heavy blink, struggling to remain open and alert, your breathing evening out as your body relaxes into the mattress, sleep consuming your mind. 

Warmth surrounds you, the bed dipping and creaking pulls you from your sleep, immediate panic bursts in your chest as your eyes shoot open, your vision blurred as you seek out the movement of a shadowy figure behind you. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay— it’s just me.” 

“Steve?!” Turning your body to lay facing him, your hands fisting his shirt, scanning his face for any sign of distress or discomfort. “What took you so long?”

“I’m fine.” Placing a hand over one of yours that’s settled on his chest. “Decided to wait a bit, just to be sure nothin’ was out there— I’m sorry.” His hand moves to the base of your neck, his forehead resting against yours.

“S’okay.”

“No— I’m sorry for callin’ your letters pointless earlier. I know how much they mean to you.  I just—“ He releases a heavy sigh, voice quivering as he avoids eye contact with you. 

“What— what’s the matter?” You sense there’s something Steve’s not telling you. 

“Nothin’s the matter. I just worry about what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours— you shut down on me and I just wish you’d let me help you carry the burden.” His gaze moves back to yours. “Promise me, when we get to Jackson, you don’t let your thoughts weigh you down any longer— promise me you’ll let yourself be happy there.”

“I p-promise.” You say, brushing the blonde strands of hair off of his forehead. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

“Nah, I was pushin’ your buttons— I deserved it.” You both laugh at his response. 

Steve leans into your space, his lips slotting over yours, it’s angled and slow, his grip on your neck still steady as the kiss begins to deepen. Throwing your leg over his hip, canting against the sturdiness of his thigh, seeking out some sort of friction to relieve the building ache between your legs. 

But before things are about progress, Steve’s pulling away from your mouth, slowing the roll of your hips with his hand. 

“We should get some sleep— we’ve got close to a 3, maybe 4 hour walk tomorrow, we need to get all the rest we can get.”

“Y-yeah, of course.” Your response is breathy, a slight pang in your chest at his soft rejection, questioning whether you had been too harsh towards him earlier in the day— but your body could use the rest. 

Adjusting yourself, you turn away from Steve, his large arm wrapping around and pulling you closer to him. Your back now against his firm chest, each one of your tense muscles slowly relaxing into him and his warmth. 

Thoughts of a new start in Jackson flood your mind as you drift off into a deep sleep. A chance at a better life, where Steve and you can settle into normalcy together. Retire from the constant fear and panic of daily survival out in the open. The taste of prosperity and the sense of peace, an almost tangible reality for the two of you. 

Steve senses sleep has set in for you, the ease of your regulated breathing paired with your gentle snores. He nestles himself into the crook of your neck, his fingers instinctively migrate to your ring smoothing over the cool metal, his thick whiskers tickle lightly at your skin as he whispers reserved confessions into the balmy. A gentle kiss to your shoulder before allowing himself to fully breathe easy, deciding to keep a watchful eye throughout the night. 

“You’ll be happier Genevieve, I promise.”

*

The sun is in its full glory once you both set out on the last stretch of your journey over the mountain.

Steve had been rather short with you all morning, you chalked it up to his tossing and turning all night, his eyes bloodshot, evident in lacking sleep— he had promised everything was fine, so you believed him. 

“How much longer do you think we have?” Not really knowing what to talk about with the uneasiness that’s been going on all morning. 

“I don’t know, Eve— they guy said it was about a 3 hour walk from the resort. We’ve been walking close to 2 and a half, so we’re probably close.”

“Please don’t call me—“

“Jesus Christ Genevieve! I’m fucking sorry! But you don’t make it easy for me sometimes— I feel like I’m always at a fucking arms length away from you even after 21 fucking years.” Anger shoots from his mouth like bullets, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, at least never towards you. “It’s a goddamn name! Gen, Eve, Genevieve— they’re all the fucking same!” 

“I-I’m sorry.” Tears prick at your eyes, you try your best to not let them fall— you’ll save them for when you’re alone in the safety of your new home. 

“Fuck! No, I’m sorry— shit! C’mere.”

Steve pulls you into him, his face hot against your cheek as he holds you close, the button down he’s wearing is drenched in sweat, there’s a slight tremble to the grip he has on you. 

“Are you okay?” You pull back to get a better look at him, beads of sweat glisten across his forehead, his cheeks flushed a bright red. 

“Yeah, just really fucking tired.” 

*CLICK*

“Hands where we can see them! Slowly, no fast movements!” A woman’s voice echoes through the air. 

Steve releases you from his arms, both of you slowly turning, arms raised up as you were told. 

There’s 5 of them, all on horses with their guns drawn in your direction. The woman seems to be in charge of the group, her horse placed a few feet in front of the others.

“We don’t mean no harm, we’re just trying to get to the settlement just over this mountain. You must be Maria? I was told you might greet us before we got there.” Steve says, keeping his tone even as explains himself. 

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” She asks, her expression still unreadable as she waits for Steve to respond. 

“No— you don’t, but I was told you would bring us the rest of the way in.” 

Maria takes a minute to decide whether she wants to believe Steve or not. 

“Scan them.” Looking back at one of the men behind her, nodding to where Steve and you are still standing with your arms raised. “I don’t care who you talked to, you get scanned before you come in.” 

The man grabs a device from his saddle pack, then makes his way towards you, the other 3 men’s guns still aimed, fingers hovering over their triggers. 

“Lady’s first.” The man states, placing the device on your neck, there’s a small zap to your skin when the scan is administered. 

“Green!” He shouts, holding the device up to show the green screen in Maria’s direction. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, even though you knew you were fine. 

Turning towards Steve, the man places the scanner on Steve’s neck, Steve’s eyes locking with yours as the man presses the designated button to conduct the virus scan. 

The man steps back quickly, a flash of red catches your attention. 

“RED!” He holds the device up. 

The other men direct their aim to Steve, his head hanging low and no sign of resistance to finding out he’s infected. 

“Steve! No— Tell them you’re not infected!” Insisting he speak up. “He’s not infected! Scan him again! Please!” You scream at the group, your voice straining as you plead with them to scan Steve again, convinced it was a bad read. 

“Please!! Scan him—“

“Genevieve— it’s not wrong.” Steve says. 

You turn to him, chest heaving and your throat burning from yelling, confused by what he’s saying.

“What? What do you mean it’s not wrong? You’re not infected Steve— you’re just tired, they need to scan you again!”

“I was bit.” 

You can feel the blood drain from your face as the words leave his mouth. Your brain takes a moment to register what he had said. 

Bit. 

Infected. 

“No— no! No, no no!”

“Genevieve—“

“W-when?”

“Last night, there was a runner that came out of one of the other cabins—“

Steve’s confession hits you like a ton of bricks in slow motion. You hate it and don’t want to believe a single thing he’s saying, because the reality is that this is where it ends for him— for you. 

The tears burn as they begin to stream down your face. 

“You didn’t say anything though—“

“I needed to get you here— I needed you to be safe.”

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, throwing yourself at him, anchoring your arms around his neck. 

“No! I can’t do this without you— I can’t lose you too!” 

“Yes, you can. You’re the bravest person I’ve known in a long time. You’re going to get there and you’re going to meet new people and you will be able to help out because that’s what you love— you love helping people and I love that about you. This is your chance to start over, to be happy— do that for me?” His hands cup your face so he can look at you, his eyes filled with tears as well. “Do me a favor, write me one of your letters— I want to know everything.”

You nod, unable to speak, the lump in your throat growing as your remaining time together dwindles away. 

“I love you, Genevieve.” His words muffled against your skin, leaving one last kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you, too.” You breathe out, your eyes closed savoring his soft touch one last time. 

“How long?” Maria asks Steve.

“Probably ‘nother hour left, give or take.”

“Alright Genevieve— you’re riding with me, hand your pack to one of my men. Andrew, you hang back with Steve— you know what to do.” Maria orders everyone. 

Wiping your tears before placing a kiss to Steve’s cheek, then turning to where Maria is waiting for you, handing your pack to one of her men. Maria leans down to grab onto your arm, as you hoist yourself up onto the backside of the horse. 

“Let’s head back.” Maria says, pulling the reins up and to one side to signal the horse to turn around, a click of her tongue has the horse moving forward in the direction of the settlement. 

You can’t bear to look back in Steve’s direction, not trusting yourself to not run back to him. 

Leaving him and knowing his fate is like reliving the same pain you endured 21 years ago. The outbreak takes everything from you for a second time. 

Your world shatters, crumbling as the horse carries you further and further from him. 

*BANG*

The sound ricochets out over the valley, your heart sinks as a new wave of tears silently fall. 

*

You don’t remember the entire ride to the settlement or how you ended up on the porch of a two story house. 

Maria had mentioned putting you up in her brother-in-law's converted garage, a small studio bedroom where those new to the settlement would stay while their permanent residence were being cleaned and prepped. She said it wasn’t anything special and you’d have to use the main houses kitchen and bathroom, but you’d have your own space in a few days— so interacting with a few strangers was the least you could do for the hospitality. 

You honestly didn’t care where she put you for the time being, the stables would have been enough, you just wanted to be alone. 

Glancing over your shoulder you see others moving about freely, children running about in the open, a stark contrast between what you had been so used to. 

There’s rows and rows of homes, a small town-like area, a community garden— this place was everything that Steve had described to you, he would have loved it. 

The opening of the front door pulls you back to the front porch where you’re standing with Maria. 

“We’ve got a newcomer, she’s going to stay here until we get a room ready down the street.” Maria explained to the young girl who is glaring at you. 

“Why do you keep bringing them here? This isn’t a shelter— can’t she stay somewhere else?”

“No, she can’t. This is Ellie, her bark is worse than her bite— she’ll grow on you. Ellie, this is Genevieve let’s let her get comfortable and situated— she just lost whom I’m assuming was her husband, so please make her feel welcomed.” Maria coerses Ellie into letting you stay, but you don’t miss the eye rolling throw your way. 

The home is spacious and inviting, you decide it’s far more comfortable than the stables would have been. 

“Ellie, can you grab Genevieve a glass of water please.” It’s more of a demand than an ask. “Here Genevieve, have a seat here at the table. I’m sure Ellie can make you something to eat if you’re hungry too.”

“So now we’re a shelter and we have room service? Her legs don’t seem broken to me—.” 

“Ellie, glass of water!”

The girl grunts something under her breath as she follows through with getting you water, you settle into a chair and try to not let the unwelcome feeling that’s been looming over you since you set foot in the house add to the pain that is still radiating through you. 

You wipe a few tears you hadn’t realized had fallen, a new wave of emotions hitting you, another moment of realization of Steve not being here with you like you had both talked about. 

“Is there anything else I can get you Genevieve?” Maria cautiously places a hand on your shoulder, you take it as her way of apologizing for your loss. 

“Umm, just my bag would be great and a shower would be nice.” You sniffle, ready to lock yourself away for the day, not wanting to be forced to have unwanted conversations with a teenager who already hates your new presence. 

“I’ll go grab your bag from the stables, then you can start getting settled.” She gives your shoulder a light squeeze before turning for the front door. “Ellie, be nice.”

A glass of water is placed in front of you, a few cubes of ice float around the clear liquid. You don’t even remember the last time you had enjoyed an ice cold drink. 

Ellie situates herself in the chair across from you, looking as if she wants to say something. 

“So— your husband is dead?” 14 years old and a great conversationalist. 

“No— y-yes.” Your chest aches at the mention of ‘your husband.’

“Well, that’s not confusing. So, did you watch him die?”

“Hmm?” 

“Your husband, did you watch your husband die?” She asks again. 

“N-no.”

“I’m all out of questions then.” She slinks back into her chair. 

You stare at the ice, almost half the size it was when it was placed in front of you. Wishing you could slowly melt away, become the nothingness you feel like. 

The front door swings open and closes with a gentle click, the clunking sound of boots makes the presence of whoever stepped into the house known. 

“Hey kid, sorry I’m late. Tommy wanted to get drinks after our patrol.” 

A deep husky voice permeates the room, its thick syrupy tone seeps into every little crevice of your memory, its familiarity prompting the goosebumps to form across your body. 

“I didn’t know we were having guests— this a new friend of yours?” He asks, his foot step getting closer to where you're still seated at the table, your back turned to him. 

“Fuck no! It’s one of Maria’s strays. Said she has to stay here until her room is available— which is bullshit if you ask me!” She spouts off, her annoyance very apparent. 

“Ellie, manners!” He grits out. 

You lift yourself from the chair, steadying your weak state on the table and chair as you turn in his direction. 

Your heart nearly stops the moment your eyes land on him— a ruggedness to him, his soft brown eyes filled with a darkness that comes with loss and sorrow, his dark locks and beard sprinkled with tuffs of gray, an overall hardness about him that hides his true self. 

“Joel?” Your eyes wide and filled with more tears, the name is barely a whisper as it falls into the air. 

“Eve?” A name he never thought he would say again. 

[your-local-hoemie]

Hi! Can i request childe and zhongli (seperate) coming home to his beloved overworked and slumped over her desk?

Omg I get to write geo papi :D watch me work my brain juices for ya!

Warnings: fluffffff, a tiny bit of angst in childes if you squint again because I can’t help myself, Concerned boys, not proof-read, established relationships, gn! Reader (I know you said “her” in the request but I wanna keep it gn for everyone’s enjoyment if that’s ok aaaaaa.)

Characters: Childe, Zhongli

No I didn’t get carried away hahaha….hah

···

Childe~

He doesn’t understand at first lmfao

Mans constantly working so like? Isn’t this normal??

Honestly you might be helping him stop for a bit too

Gets very concerned :(

Might think you’ve died for a split second

Once he realised you’re fine he’ll make sure you’re moved to a comfier place like the bed or couch

Try to protest. I dare you.

He’ll probably arrange for one of his subordinates to complete any work you had left just to make sure you can rest

I also dare anyone to protest against a harbinger for finishing your work :)

You had been assigned a bunch of documents from Yanfei to go over after being transferred to her for extra work experience in Liyue before officially graduating.

At first your couldn’t be more optimistic about the workload telling yourself that it’s all worth it in the long run after years of studying law!

That lasted maybe a good four days before the lack of sleep and neglect to eat and drink properly started kicking in.

Raising your head you looked up from the paperwork checking the time. 4:30am. Groaning you raked your fingers through your hair, dragging them down your face trying to keep yourself grounded.

But much to your dismay no matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes open and your head free of fatigue, your body decided to finally take charge and before you can even protest, your head lowered to the table as your heavy eyes finally closed and took the rest they needed.

Meanwhile your beloved boyfriend, childe. Eleventh of the fatui harbingers, had finally got home after endless hours of his own work as a “toy maker”. He never told you about his true occupation, always worried it would put you in harms way or make you scared of him.

Opening the door to your house, making his way up to your bedroom he didn’t actually expect to see you awake being so early in the morning so when he saw the bed untouched and you nowhere in sight he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a twinge of dread run down his spine.

“Babe? Where are you?”

Picking up his pace he’d hurry around the house opening each door, his bow appearing in his hand from anxiety.

Reaching the finally room of your home he swung the door open only to find you slumped over your desk surrounded by paperwork.

Almost running over to your side he dropped to his knee’s placing his hand on your back almost like you’d break under his touch he softly shook you taking comfort in feeling your soft, deep breaths under his touch.

“Hmm? Childe?”

Raising your head groggily you look at your boyfriend for a moment trying to piece together the situation while rubbing your still heavy, sleepy eyes.

“Archons Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack! Why aren’t you asleep In bed!?”

Giggling sleepily you tried your best to explain the situation all while still feeling the heavy pull of sleep in your body not noticing the soft, if not concerned smile appearing across his face.

Letting out a sigh he gathered you in his arms lifting you up with ease, he carried you to the bedroom placing you down on the bed before pulling you tightly into his arms kissing your forehead.

“No more work for you love”

You were pretty confused to later find out you somehow still managed to finish all the paperwork before passing out even though you swore there was still a pile to go through~

Zhongli~

Oh he already knew.

You thought you were slick? You fool.

From the moment he laid eyes on the workload given to you all the way to your first yawn

He knew

He’d try to make it easier on you, knowing your stubbornness

Brings you fruit and tea every so often

Don’t be surprised if you get a nice back massage too~

Once he thinks it’s gone on for far too long he will take action and there won’t be a damn thing you can do

He’s a ex god. Come on.

If he thinks you should rest then you’re gonna rest

To bed with you

Lots of cuddles and head pats! Maybe even humming if he thinks it’ll help you relax

He won’t do your work for you, he doesn’t have the heart to risk ruining your hard work but he will help you if you seem like you’re struggling!

Much to no one’s surprise, Hu Tao had ever so kindly managed to gather a ever increasing collection of complaints from the citizens of Liyue from her persistent shenanigans that you’d be hard pushed not to find at least a little disturbing, leaving you to deal with the mountain on papers to sort through.

The moment zhongli caught wind of what had been keeping you so occupied from your routine walk through the harbour he was irritated to say the least.

After having a word with Hu Tao that was borderline passive aggressive he immediately stopped by the market picking up the best fruit he could find (much to Childe’s dismay) along with your favourite snacks.

Meanwhile you had enclosed yourself in your office, pondering your life choices while using all the strength you had to stay focused.

How long has it been since you started? When was the last time you ate? Questions hardly noticeable floated around the back of your mind as you intently ignored the pangs in your stomach and the worsening migraine growing across your head.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you finish reading a particularly rude letter sent in only to turn the page over by chance just to see that the paragraphs contained on the other side.

Finally snapping under the stress you lay your head down in defeat on the desk, tears threatening to run from your eyes and soak the papers under your head as you feel your body take over and force you to close them at last.

It wasn’t too long before you woke up in a mild state of panic before noticing a plate of beautifully arranged fruit, a warm cup of tea sitting beside you and a blanket draped over your aching back.

“Ah, you have finally awoken. Forgive me dear but I couldn’t bring myself to wake you from your much needed slumber so I took the liberty to prepare you some food”

God I love writing his funky little words

“Zhongli? H-how long have you been there?? What time is it!?”

“Hush now. No need to get worked up over such trivial things, you still have plenty of time to continue your work but I must remind you that rest and recuperation is an essential part to such dealings”

With that you find him dragging a chair next to you. letting out a deep chuckle he turned you towards him gentle pushing your head down to his lap as his fingers stroked through strands of hair. (If you’re bald then just ignore this part💀)

“Rest for now my dear, I shall assist you in this mess when you have recovered”

Not daring to protest against his authoritative tone, you close your eyes feeling your body melt at his touch.

Maybe a little rest wouldn’t hurt after all~

Bruh writing in zhongli’s fancy words is so fun I feel so sophisticated *sticks pinkie out and sips tea*

[dunechkka]

My progress with @adambja manifesting tape.

My goal is to manifest entering the void with the master manifestor tape.

Day 1

When I first listened to it, I felt like my brain got numb. I was reading, and I just stud there staring at the same word for like five minutes.

I had a really deep sleep, it was weird, but when I woke up, I felt really rested and calm (*^￢^*)

My dreams became really weird.

Day 2

Woke up before my alarm. I wanted to sleep some more, and I started to wake up every 5 to 10 minutes.

More weird dreams.

Listened for an hour or more (maybe) before falling asleep. I felt void symptoms that I never felt before. My body felt really weird and relaxed

Day 3

When I first woke up, my body felt really cozy and relaxed.

I had weird dreams during the night again.

I have a rally strong feeling I'll get in the void tonight.

Day 4

The moment I started to listen to the tape, I felt my eyes heavy. Like I was really tired and sleepy.

I had a lucid dream, and I started affirming that I was I the void, and everything turned black. I know how it feels to be in the void, so I know I didn't enter, but I feel I'm close.

Day 5

I forgot this day, but I had bad luck. Some personal stuff

Day 6

I had insomnia and a strong feeling I would get into the void, but I didn't. I did robotic affirmations during the night, but it didn't work.

I have a really old PC and lately it's been failing. Two weeks ago it suddenly shut down at It wouldn't turn on again, so I had to take it to someone ti fix it. Two days ago happened again and I really needed it to work cause I need it, and today literally 1 minute ago I said in my head "I would like for it to work again" and it did right after ( ￣▽￣).

And I had guitar class today and I usually take longer for my fingers to reach the notes on diferent chords, but I got to learn a whole jazz sequence of chords and a melody in an hour at the speed it should be. I was struggling in the beginning but it got easier after 10 minutes of trying.

I don't know if it was coincidence or not. I tend to be really stubborn when it comes to beliving in manifestation and loa, because I rather believe in the "cientific" stuff, but maybe it was thanks to the tape, so I will try to enter the void with it again tonight cause I got motivated from this little things (｡・´_｀・｡)

Something I've noticed too is that my despersonalization got worse during the night, and the days feel so unreal, I don't take this as a sign because I've been feeling like this for years, but this week is been hard to handle.

If someone sees this and has any tips for entering the void, I would be pleased.

Bye. .ﾟ+.(・∀・)ﾟ+.ﾟ

[andreafmn]

In the Heat of the Moment | Part 4

Word Count: 4.8K

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader, mentioned Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Story Description: Every month female Omatikayans go through their heat whilst men go through their rut. It’s a time for mates to engage in the most animalistic desires. But when one of the two is gone, it can be a rather painstaking endeavor. With Neteyam gone on a hunting trip, (Y/N) has to go through her heat alone for the first time. Or does she?

Warnings: SMUT (+18, minors DNI), infidelity, p in v sex, oral sex (fem and male receiving), rough sex

A/N: Another part is out and we're getting closer to the end! Let me know what your theories are for how all this mess will end up like. I love the drama 🫣 Also, sorry for the very late night post My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Dedicated to��@jake-sullys-whore! For following the story since the beginning and showing it love 💖💖

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If you’d like to be tagged in any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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In the Heat of the Moment | Part 4

Waking with a heavy heart had become easier for (Y/N). The warmth that enveloped her eased her enough into a false sense of security. Strong arms wrapped around her body, the sound of his heartbeat keeping her in a calm slumber, and the heat from his body comforting her in the coldness of daybreak. The pleasant feeling pushed away any thought of Neteyam from her mind. 

And the warmth was accompanied by a fullness that took her breath away. They had fallen asleep with Jake still buried deep inside her. As her mind woke, she groaned at the feeling of her cock growing hard inside of her wetness. It stretched her walls, burning its way through until he reached his fullness. 

Instinctively, (Y/N) started rolling her hips. Her body needed the friction, chasing the sweet release of pleasure, even if it was with her father-in-law. With her eyes still shut with sleep, moans started spilling from her mouth as her body rocked against Jake’s member. Her body moved without much input from her brain. 

“Well, that’s one way to start the morning,” Jake croaked against her ear, his voice still deep from waking. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she groaned. “I just couldn’t, mm, help myself.” 

“I’ll take this over any other wake-up call,” he chuckled before letting out a moan of his own. “So, don’t you dare stop. Take from me whatever you need, baby girl.” 

His hands gripped her hips, pushing her body to meet his deep thrusts as he pushed his hips into her. With his mind fully awake now, Jake enjoyed waking to her body pressed against him, her warmth engulfing his length, and the moans that made his ears flicker.

Heat and wetness hugged his cock as he hurried his pace, still surprised he got to wake up this way. He loved Neytiri, of course. That was a fact he could never deny. She was the reason he had the life he had, the family he had, and the power he had. He owed her everything he was and would become. 

Yet, (Y/N) stirred something inside him that he had not felt since he was much younger. The insatiable hunger that clawed at the inside of his stomach that had gone into hibernation sometime before had been abruptly awakened two nights before. And as much as he had wished that it had been his own mate that had ignited that flame inside him, fate had a much different idea. 

But he knew his time was counted. Two days and a few hours, that’s all they had left to live in their fantasy. Just a bit of time and their bubble would be burst by their reality. Their mates would come back home and their adventure would have to stop. 

So, Jake pistoned inside her, savoring the feel of her walls around him, committing to memory the moment. Make every second count, he told himself. Every second. 

But he wouldn’t last long. He could not. Not when she whimpered against his ears, her hands gripped his cheeks as her lips met his in a hungry kiss, or when her insides clenched tighter and tighter around him. Jake simply would not last long. 

“Eywa, you have no idea what you do to me, sevin,” he groaned. “I feel like a boy. I’m ready to bust.” 

“I’m getting better,” she purred with a chuckle. “And you’re getting worse, sir. Might have to teach you some things now.”

“Don’t push it, baby girl. I’ve still got years over you.” 

He thrust harder into her, the thread that held him together ready to snap. He rutted in hunger, pushing harder and harder until he burst. He groaned as his release filled her, her walls siphoning every drop. 

But she wasn’t done, and he knew that. 

Without another thought, he slid out of her. She groaned in response to the sudden feeling of emptiness as he left her. But it wasn’t for long. 

Jake flipped her suddenly and got on his knees, his mouth face-to-face with her wet core. He licked at her folds tentatively, grinning as her body shuddered at the contact. As he tasted her and him all mixed homogeneously, he moaned. The salty essence that seeped from her entrance was the best liquid he had tasted, and he thought maybe this was the ambrosia the Greek gods spoke of – the secret to immortality. 

His tongue lapped at her clit as his fingers promptly pistoned inside her to push and hold any remnants of his seed into her. He attacked her slowly at first, getting her used to the motion before he assaulted her bundle of nerves from the inside as well as the outside. As his fingers curled at the tip, his mouth sucked and circled the aching mound. A starving man wanting nothing but to be fed. 

(Y/N)’s hands fell to the back of his head, her fingers curling into his braids as she pushed him deeper into her. Her back was arched, her eyes were rolled into the back of her head, and her mouth parted as she panted. The pleasure was irrepressible, somehow her arousal growing rather than dying down. Still, she could feel the bubble building inside her, ready to pop. 

Jake never stopped his assault. His tongue lapped at her as his fingers thrust into her, over and over and over again. He could feel her clenching around his digits, losing control over her body and mind as he gained it. She was putty in his hands, allowing herself to neglect all reason and feel what it was that she needed to feel at that moment. 

She writhed and moaned under his touch, her legs closing around his head as he continued to devour her. All she could think about was what she felt at that moment. The way Jake’s hair tickled her thighs, the way his rough tongue circled her clit, the way his long fingers stretched her insides. It was the perfect influx of pleasure, a moment she wanted to stay in for as long as she could. 

But, the bubble had stretched as far as it could, and in a split second, it burst. Her breath hitched in her throat as her back raised from the bed in an arch, her feet planted on the mattress. As (Y/N) tried to ride out the orgasm, Jake gripped her hips tightly and held her. His tongue continued his onslaught as she panted and mewled. 

“Too much,” she cried. “It’s too much, Jake.” 

“Nonsense,” he chuckled. “I’ve seen just how much you can take, baby girl.”

Once his mouth was fully away from her core, (Y/N) could see her sleek glistening on his chin and dripping from his swollen lips. With a satisfied groan, he placed the fingers that had been inside her into his mouth, savoring the taste on his tongue. The only flavors he wanted dancing in his taste buds until the end of forever. 

“You’re still not done,” (Y/N) cooed as she noticed his hardness. With his eyes still closed, Jake hadn’t noticed that the girl had crawled toward him and rested on her kneed, face-to-face with his length. “I guess I’ll help you with that.” 

Before he could process her words, (Y/N) had taken hold of his shaft and stretched her mouth to allow his tip to fit in. She used her tongue to circle the dark tip, swallowing the precum that had already seeped from the head. 

Jake let out a shuddering breath as he felt the warmth of her mouth surround him. That feeling alone could have been enough to force his release, but he wanted the moment to last. It was already the beginning of the end of their entanglement. So much he wanted to experience with her, but their hours were limited. The timer was set for the return of their mates. 

“Eywa, you take me so well, baby girl,” he spoke through gritted teeth. (Y/N) had lowered herself onto his complete length, stretching the limits of her body’s capabilities. “And you look beautiful doing so.” 

He wiped away the stray tears that had fallen from her eyes at the pain, her yellow eyes looking directly into his. It was an addictive image for the man. Her eyes staring up at him; her ears pressed to her head in submission; her sprawled on her knees; her tail swaying rapidly behind her in delight. The most enchanting vision he had ever witnessed. 

She bobbed her head slowly at first, finding the right rhythm for him. The tempo that would beckon his moans and groans. She swirled her tongue around him as she took him in and pulled him out, a mess of saliva dripping out of the corners of her mouth. She was messy and still learning, but what she already knew how to do was enough to have Jake bucking his hips to meet her own speed. 

He was powerless when it came to her. Even in his state of dominance, all it took was a simple word, a simple action from her and he’d do anything she wanted. In this game of arousals and limbs, she held all the power, whether she knew it or not. The man that had led the Omatikaya people to victory against the sky-people, the same man that was the head of his clan, the Toruk Makto, was defenseless against the wife of his firstborn. 

“I’m so close,” he panted as her pace grew faster. The image of his cock thrusting into her mouth only worked to edge him on. “So fucking close, baby girl. Don’t stop.”  

All it took was the smile (Y/N) gave him as he said these words to have him bursting deep into her throat. He held her head still, gripping the sides with both of his hands, as he emptied himself inside her. He groaned as he felt his seed filling her, forcing her to swallow it down to not choke. 

“You’re perfect, (Y/N).” He pulled her to her feet, his lips planting a rough kiss onto hers. “So fucking perfect.” 

“All this praise might start getting to my head, sir,” she chuckled. “Although I do not mind it.” 

“You deserve all the beautiful words that exist in my language, in yours, and all the ones that have yet to be invented. That’s how perfect you are.” 

(Y/N) couldn't help the deep color that overtook her cheeks, warming her skin and exposing her embarrassment to his words. They were entering a territory that was too dangerous for both of them. Treading the thin line between a casual sexual encounter and romantic feelings. A line neither of them could afford to cross. 

“Well, the day has broken, Olo’eyktan,” she smiled, disregarding everything Jake had said. “It’s time you tend to your duties and I tend to mine.” 

“Very eager to have me leave your nest, little one,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. “I’ll see you tonight, okay? After dinner, we’ll come straight here.” 

“Only if you promise to keep your hands to yourself at the table,” she commanded. “And on the walk back.” 

“You’re tying my hand, but I promise.”  

“Well, then, see you tonight.” 

He kissed her lips once more before leaving the tent, the entrance flap swaying slightly as it finally closed. 

As her day transpired (Y/N) grew scared. Terrified of how easy it was becoming to go on about her day feeling the uneasiness in her heart overtake her. She should have been in pain, writhing in remorse for what she was doing with her husband’s father. Instead, she was fulfilling her chores and her lessons as if nothing had happened between them. 

She glided through the day with a grace only delusion could give. Believing that everything would somehow work out without any backfire or horrible repercussions. Because if she could trick her brain into thinking that nothing could go wrong, maybe it would be enough to bend fate to her own will. 

“(Y/N)!” Kiri yelled as she saw her friend making her way to the family’s tent. “We’re over here!” 

Behind, over, and just to the right was a small clearing the kids often visited. It was close enough to the village that the parents could call their children but hidden enough that they could get into enough trouble. 

Tuk, Lo’ak, and Kiri were waiting for their friend. The oldest was weaving a new poncho, the boy was sharpening arrowheads, and the youngest was braiding strands in Kiri’s hair. 

“(Y/N)!” Tuk dropped her sister’s hair and tan to hug the girl. “Can I do your hair now?” 

“Of course, Tuk. But I forgot the feathers you got me.” 

“That’s okay,” the little girl smiled. “I can redo it tomorrow. I love your hair.” 

“Well, if you insist,” she chuckled. 

(Y/N) sat crossed leg in front of the girl, who was already sat on a protruding tree root. Kiri got closer, placing herself next to her as Lo’ak abandoned what he was doing to rest his head on her lap. As she often did, the action now becoming an unconscious trigger, she ran her hands through his hair. 

They had always looked to her as an older sister, even as close in age as the oldest were, her calm and wise demeanor made them feel she was older than she actually was. 

“How have you been, (Y/N)?” Kiri questioned. “Truly. I know we already questioned you about this last night, but now that dad isn’t here, I wanna know how you really feel. I know you were holding back.” 

(Y/N) tensed slightly, not enough for any of the kids to notice. But Kiri had been right, she had been holding back, just not from what she believed. 

“I honestly just feel like my brain is muddled and hazy. Like I can’t really think straight,” she sighed. Her eyes were focused on Lo’ak’s hair, his braids falling through her fingers. “Neteyam has only been gone for four days but I feel like it’s been far too long. I even feel like I’ve changed myself. I don’t know. I’m rambling.” 

“I understand,” Kiri comforted. “It has to be such a surreal experience to be far from your mate. You’ve been by each other's side your whole life. And I’m sure that your connection through Eywa only strengthened that bond. It’s almost like you are missing a part of yourself.” 

“I just wish he’d never gone,” she admitted. And though her words weighed with truth, her body knew the lie that was laced into her words. “I’m afraid he’ll come back and I’ll be different. I don’t want to get used to him being gone.” 

“All you have to do is train to be a hunter then,” Lo’ak interjected. “That way you can go with them and maybe you can convince mom to let me go too.” 

“So, I’ll be stuck babysitting you? No, thanks.” 

“When we were kids you were one of the best hunters in the group,” he said. “If you had continued your training I’m sure you would have been the one to join mom on the expedition.” 

“Why did you leave your hunting training, (Y/N)?” Tuk perked from behind her. “If you were that good.” 

“Well, since I had been promised to Neteyam and he was already working so hard on his training, I decided to train as a healer instead with Mo’at,” she explained. “It didn’t make sense for the both of us to be great hunters. And I enjoy healing. I feel more in tune with our Mother Goddess and the people I’m the village. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” 

“Not even for spending more time with a Neteyam?” Kiri teased, bumping her shoulder with hers. “You could be with him right now, you know?” 

“I can go if you guys are that tired of me.” 

“Oh, please,” she chuckled. “I’m just saying, (Y/N). It’s just because I know how much you do miss him.” 

“I know, Kiri, and I do. But, at least I have you guys to keep me company.” 

“And dad too,” the girl added, unbeknownst to the breath that got hitched in (Y/N)’s throat. “He’s been so worried about you these past few days. I’m glad he’s been so attentive to you.” 

Warmth rushed through her body at the mention of Jake’s devoted attention. The three kids had no idea just how diligent he had been in Neteyam’s absence. They could not fathom how the man had helped in her lonely nights.

“Yes, your father has been quite… accommodating these past days,” she smiled, swallowing the guilt that was rising up her neck. “But I’m sure it’s because he is missing Neytiri as much as I’m missing Neteyam.”

“Well, at least there’s only less than three days until he is back,” Kiri smiled. “I’m sure you can hold off for that long.”

“I think so too.” 

They spent some time together at the clearing until the sun had gone farther down and they knew it was time for dinner. In the tent, Jake kept his promise. He kept his hands to himself and ensured that the meal went smoothly. The family enjoyed a calm and joyful dinner without suspecting why the two oldest were rushing to finish. 

As (Y/N) waited outside the tent, her good nights already said, Jake tucked his children into bed. Something he had not done the previous nights. 

“I know you're busy, dad, but I’ve been having nightmares,” Tuk peeped as her father wrapped her in her blanket. “Do you think you could sleep here tonight?” 

He didn’t want to say no. He couldn’t say no. As much as he wanted to spend another night tangled between (Y/N)’s limbs and her sheets, his family was too important. 

“Alright, baby,” he smiled at his daughter. “I might come in a bit late, but I promise I’ll come back tonight.” 

“Thank you, dad.”

“Of course, Tuk. Good night, baby.”

“Night, dad.” 

As soon as his children had all gone to bed, he left the nest. Outside, he gripped (Y/N) by her wrist and pulled her toward her own nest. He hurried through the village, the burning inside him already twisting his insides. He barely gave the girl any time to register his speed before he zoomed to her place. 

“Why are you rushing, Jake?” (Y/N) panted once they had stopped inside her tent. “You barely gave me a second to breathe.”

“It’s Tuk,” he said as he messily kissed her lips. “She’s been having nightmares and wants me to sleep over there tonight.” 

“Oh,” she responded. But he couldn’t decipher if her words were sewn with understanding or disappointment. “Then, let’s not waste any more time.”

She stood on her tiptoes as her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips collided roughly against his. Their tongues swirled around each other’s, their tails tangling around their waists to pull them closer together. They wanted more, to be as conjoined as much as they could. But there was only one way they could be. 

Jake snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her body up as he carried her to the mat. He laid her on the bed without breaking the kiss, their bodies flush together. He wanted to prolong the moment as much as he could, but he knew he had to be quick. Even against everything he was feeling. 

He left her mouth to kiss down to her jaw, then to her neck, taking a second to enjoy the mewls that rolled through her tongue as he sucked in the spot he had discovered. She gripped the hair at the base of his nape, tugging softly as his mouth left marks on her skin. 

He traveled after from her neck to her breast, ripping away the necklace that covered the mounds. The beads exploded all around them, dropping in tandem as Jake closed his mouth on the hardened peaks. He pressed his tongue flat against her, earning a loud moan from the girl. A sound she tried to dampen by slapping a hand against her mouth. 

“Don’t you dare,” Jake growled. “I want to hear all of your sounds, baby girl.” 

With one hand, he took hold of her wrists and caged them above her head. His grip was tight, ensuring she could not use her limbs to quiet her song. With the other, he kneaded the breast his mouth had left unattended. He rolled the nipple between his index finger and his thumb, pulling at it slightly as his teeth pulled the other. 

(Y/N) keened and gasped as her sensitive mounds were assaulted by the man. Her body squirmed under his, her limited movement only aiding in tightening the desire inside her. The profuse feeling took over her, drenching the heat between her legs. She felt powerless as he held her, but it excited her. So, she submitted. Allowed him to use her body in any way he saw fit because that’s what she wanted as well.

He abandoned her breasts, satisfied with the marks he’d left on them. Purple blotches that would darken over time. He continued his journey down her stomach, his tongue leaving a trail on the path he coursed through. He kissed the flatness of her belly, the peaks of her hips, the softness of her thighs, and he breathed her in. He inhaled her intoxicating aroma and let the essence infiltrate his nostrils. 

“Jake, please,” she whined. “We don’t have much time.” 

“Goddess, I know,” he groaned. “I wish I could stop time right now. Let it be just you and me here, forever.” 

“Come here,” she beckoned. As he released her hands, she pulled his face to meet with hers. Her lips pressed against his in an effort to comfort him. “The time we have is here and now. Let’s enjoy however much we have left.” 

“I just wish…” 

“Stop wishing,” she shushed him. “Just take me, Jake. Tomorrow is a new day.” 

His eyes searched hers for any sign of deception or regret, but all he found was her burning desire. She wanted him just as much as he did, yearning for the same connection. Her body craved him and he would give it just that. Because she was right, tomorrow was a new day. Another chance for him to show her everything she was missing with his son. Everything she deserved to feel. 

He quickly undid his loincloth as she untied hers, and thrust inside her. They both gasped at the sensation of being interconnected. He’d been inside her a handful of times already, but every time felt like the first moment. The tightness of her insides, the warmth of her core, the pulsating of the muscles of her wetness. It was all as novel as the first time he’d felt her. 

Their foreheads were pressed together as they panted in sync, reveling in the feeling that coursed through their bodies. The rhythm he started with was slow at first, his hips moving carefully to help her adjust to his length. He slid in and out of her wet core, focusing on not releasing before she had a chance to finish. 

But he couldn’t hold himself back for too long. His movements grew in fervor, the thrusts growing in speed. He could not quench the instinct that was triggered inside the second he entered her. 

In a split second, Jake flipped (Y/N) onto her stomach, drilling into her harshly. He placed his arms by her sides, balancing his body as he rutted into her like an animal. His hips met hers roughly, the sound of skin slapping onto skin resounding in the tent as it mixed with the squelching sound of her wetness. 

His pace turned punishing, hitting her deeper and harder than he had ever done before. She could barely breathe between his pistoning and the pressure of her front being pressed onto the mattress. As the arousal mixed with her lack of oxygen, she could feel her sight grow hazy. And she was loving it. 

Suddenly, a hand of his snaked around her neck, pulling her upper body up by her jaw as his lips met hers in a rough kiss. It was messy and sloppy, but it did not take away from the heat of the moment. 

“Fuck, baby girl,” he grumbled. “You feel so fucking good.”

A sleuth of praise and adorations fell from his mouth as he felt the rise of his end building inside him. He released her jaw to slide a hand under her and stimulate the button that would push her right over the edge. His fingers swirled over the bud, using her slickness to trace figures on the bundle of nerves. 

“Oh, Goddess!” (Y/N) screamed out, her voice muffled against the mattress. “Jake!” 

As her climax ran, Jake pounded three harsh times into her until he felt his seed coating her insides and coalescing with her own release. He panted as he emptied himself inside her, the force and speed he used finally dawning on his body. 

He collapsed beside her as he worked through the shockwaves that ransacked his body. His eyes fell closed as he steadied his heart and his breathing. He was simply not as young as he used to be. 

In his aftermath, Jake didn’t notice how (Y/N) crawled up the mat and laid her head on his chest. When he opened them, she had both arms tucked under her chin, her eyes tracing the lines and speckled dots on his face. She studied his features as if it was the first time she had seen him up close. And maybe, to her, it was. 

His heart fluttered at the traces of adoration that danced in her eyes. She looked angelic as she perused the marks on his face. The way her eyes danced from spot to spot trying to find any defining pattern. Too beautiful and perfect for the perverse things he was having her do. She deserved love, she deserved kindness, she deserved someone who could give her everything. 

Jake lowered his head, giving her a soft kiss. Her lips were warm and soft, and just as perfect as the rest of her. He now had so many wishes that involved her and only her. But he pushed them down, deep into his subconscious. Because she had told him to stop wishing. It wasn’t something they could afford to do. It was useless and, in the end, simply disappointing. 

“You really have to go?” (Y/N) spoke softly, her voice barely a whisper. 

“Tuk is waiting for me,” he responded, his hand brushing back a few strands of hair that had glued themselves to her forehead. “But tomorrow is a new day like you said.” 

“That’s true,” she smiled. “I know your family needs you.”

“You’re my family too, (Y/N). Say the word and I’ll stay.” 

“No,” the girl chuckled. “Go be with your daughter. She needs you now more than I do. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Jake. I’m sure. Go.”

“Alright then.” He kissed her lips one more time before he got up from the mattress. He covered her body with the fresh sheets she had only placed that morning and would need to change once again. “Where will you be tomorrow? I know it’s your day of rest.” 

“I will probably use the time to sleep,” she sighed as sleep slowly started to overtake her. “After that, I still don’t know.” 

“No worries. I’ll find you.” Before he finally left, Jake turned to look at her. “Sleep well, sevin. Good night.” 

“Good night, ma Jake.” 

Jake had never planned for any of this to happen as it did. Especially not the way his heart started to beat at the thought of her, how his body reacted to her, how his mind started thinking of her. Everything that he was feeling was forbidden, immoral, and went against everything he and the Na’vi people stood for. 

But he couldn’t ignore the swell of his chest or the warmth in his body that had been born a few days back. Yet, he had to. Three days and he would have to forget about her. Three days and the adventure would end. Three days and everything between them would be over.

Next ->

Taglist: @uwunuggetchan @ellabellabus07 @sweetllamaparadise @irisskies @crazy4books1

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

Rudy's Redemption Arc (Christmas Oneshot)

a/n: they are. so silly. this is, in itself, so so so silly. i hope this gives u some sort of serotonin rush (like the one i got while writing it at 12.26 AM while on my notes app instead of sleeping)

also, um. there will be a lot of santa slander. so go into this with that knowledge. idk.

————

Like the storms he was aptly named after, Yamini Kapoor-Mercado-Lopez's boyfriend burst into her apartment in a whirlwind, his face flushed, his breaths heavy. 

“My queen! We have a problem,”

Her fight-or-flight response instantly activated by those words, she got up, her fingers curled around Dee Dee, dormant in its compact mirror form. 

“Is it a monster?” She asked, mentally preparing herself for a possible battle ahead. 

“No,” his voice grew soft, his eyes wide. “It's worse. I have to host a Christmas party.”

“...Huh?”

————

In the past two years they'd been dating, and the 4 years in which they'd known each other, only once had Rudy been trusted to host a party. He was banned, of course, after the Naga Palace Screening Room Incident of 2021. The mental scars left behind still stung, to this date. 

Rudy thrust his phone in front of her face, which was open to their Potatoes group chat, where the last message was, from Brynne: I can't wait!

“I thought you were banned from hosting parties?” She frowned, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. 

“Ugh, I thought so too— but Brynne had a medical emergency—”

“Hold up, hold up— Brynne had a medical emergency? And I wasn't told?”

Rudy caught her shoulders, steadying her. “She's fine, but Hira's not allowing her to enter the kitchen for the rest of the day. Seems like she burned herself while cooking. But, unfortunately,”

She knew her boyfriend and her friends well enough by now to complete that sentence. 

“With the Naga kingdom's resources, chefs, and ballrooms…” she continued, 

“...they wanted me to host. Last minute,” He finished.

“Why not just cancel the party?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, before saying, “I agreed without thinking, before I remembered that none of you are allowed back in the royal palace.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, slowly, already anticipating how this sentence might end. 

To save him the pain of finishing it, she said, “Now you need help finding a venue,”

He nodded, vigorously, desperation making his eyes shine. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, hoping that would make him calm down, while the cogs of her brain turned. 

Glancing around her apartment, she remembered that her roommate was out of town, spending Christmas with her family, so it was just her...

“I mean, we can host it here, but…” She felt her stomach turn when she checked her watch. 5 hours left. 

Releasing herself from his grip, she snatched her coat up, and continued, “We don't have a lot of time, so we need to rush to the store now.”

His eyes glittered. “You're helping me?”

“Obvi—” she couldn't finish her sentence before he wrapped her in a hug, the words Thank you, thank you, thank you! Leaving his mouth in a rapid succession. 

She patted his shoulder, and said, “We don't have a lot of time, jaan.”

“But I like hugging you.”

“Rudy. My hugs won't save you from Brynne's wrath.”

“Okay, fair.” He let go of her, and just as she was about to drag him to the door and to the grocery store, he said, nervously, “Um, I just realised we have another problem.”

“Oh, no,”

“I haven't exactly grasped the concept of Christmas yet.”

“Oh.”

————

This tradition of their Christmas parties had started two years ago, when Aru had broken her hand around this time, and they'd thrown a party and plied her with gifts to keep her spirits high. After that, Nikita had jokingly suggested to 'make this an every-year thing', and her suggestion was taken into stride, with each Potato being given a chance to host (Rudy was forbidden. Until today, as Aru, Aiden and the twins had flown in from Atlanta, Brynne was incapacitated, Hira was taking care of her, and Mini had the bad habit of ignoring their texts while she was studying). From the point of view of religion, they didn't really celebrate the festival, but they saw the novelty of giving each other presents and throwing parties involving strictly non-alcoholic drinks.

Since they hadn't really celebrated it 'traditionally', they'd forgotten that Rudy didn't exactly know what happened on Christmas. And Rudy, bless his sweet, lovable, adorable heart, had just taken it in stride. 

“So, basically, there's a belief a dude called Santa Claus comes in through the chimney, drops off presents underneath the Christmas tree, for the good kids. The naughty kids get a piece of coal.”

She glanced up at Rudy, his nose wrinkling in that cute way of his whenever he was in deep thought. 

“That's creepy,” he decided. 

“That's one way to look at it,”

“And he lives in a cottage on the North Pole? That's lame— you could easily build a palace there. It's free real estate!”

His voice took on that haughty tone, the one that she found extremely funny. 

She pulled into the parking lot, her thoughts wandering, making their way back to him, just in time for her to hear, “...And the concept of the elves making all the toys is just... iffy. Are they unionised? If they have to make toys for all the children in the world, then I doubt they get many benefits. It isn't fair to them— in my opinion, Santa is an extremely cruel and crass business owner, and not just a business owner— a regular home invader.”

“All that hangs true if Santa is real.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I, an exceedingly good-looking prince who is half-snake, am real. You, the demigod daughter of the god of death, with the best karaoke voice in the Otherworld, are real. So who says that Ol' Saint Nick isn't?”

Silence fell in between them. “If Santa decides to invade our home, will you protect me?” He whispered. 

She laughed, and pressed another kiss to his nose. “Of course. I'll beat him away with Dee Dee.”

“Thank you. I love you.” Then, he snapped his fingers. “Wait, why are we here?”

“Panicking over party decor.”

“Right. Mini, let me introduce my plan: Get Shit Done And Evade Brynne's Wrath.”

“I'm listening, and intrigued.”

————

Rudy was a taught strategist. He knew what to do, having it be taught to him during his tutoring sessions that were required as a prince. 

Mini herself hadn't seen much of his strategist side, except during Plan: Attack Mini With Cuddles And Shower Her With Affection (which worked, it instantly lifted her mood); or Plan: Steal Shadowfax As Revenge For Aiden Finishing the Nutella (which kind of worked, he succeeded in stealing the camera, and wheedle a jar of Nutella from Aiden, but it also earned him a bruise on his head and a lifetime ban from Aiden's room). 

She was now seeing this side of him, as he explained to her his strategy: one that would allow them enough time to buy the food, decor, and go back to the apartment to set up. 

“Okay. I run to the food department, at the same time, you run to the decorations. If you can't get through, bribe them, brute force your way, I don't care. My life is on the line.”

“I will do no such thing,” 

He pouted. 

“No, your eyes won't work... ugh, fine, if there isn't enough time, I'll resort to trickery,”

“Okay.” He turned, but stopped, “Oh, and Mini?”

“Yeah?” She said, readying her shopping cart. 

“If I don't survive today, know that I love you.”

She snorted. “Hurry up, Drama Queen. Meet me at the cashier in 30 minutes,”

“Fine, my queen. Bye!”

She laughed as she pushed her shopping cart, breaking into a run, her gaze and focus fixed on the decorations department. 

Her gaze swept across a sea of people, no doubt in the same position as her, as she checked her watch, thinking, There's not much time left...

Then, she thought, I'm sorry, people. But it has to be done.

Flicking her wrist, she felt a familiar wave of magic wash over her, and, leaving her (now invisible) grocery cart in its place, she ran to the nearly empty shelves, filled with tinsel and cheap fairy lights, and anything vaguely Christmas-y off the shelves, bundled up in her arms, and threw it in the shopping cart, mentally laughing at the comments Nikita would give. 

After a five minute power struggle to get out, she raced back to the cashier's to see Rudy in a similar state, his own cart piled with groceries. 

As they reunited, she aggressively plied herself and him with hand sanitizer, as she anxiously checked her watch. “We're five minutes behind schedule.”

“It's fine.”

“No, it's not?”

“It's fine,” He looked as if he was on the end of his metaphorical rope. 

They paid for everything and made their way outside, and, as they were loading the groceries and decorations in the trunk, she glanced at Rudy's anxious face. Cradling it in her palms, she pulled him close. “Listen. To. Me. This is a silly Christmas party, and there's nothing to worry about. You hear?”

He would sometimes get a little invested in these things, and get overly anxious about them. As a person who dealt with anxiety, Mini knew how it felt. 

He gave her his signature smirk. “Sorry, Mini, but I will 100% worry about this. Because this is my redemption arc. My one chance to prove myself after the screening room disaster.” They both shuddered at the memories of that. 

“Okay, fine. But if this has a negative toll on your stomach health—” He decided to plant a kiss on her cheek. 

“Don't you worry. As long as I have my favourite doctor with me, nothing can go wrong.”

As she pulled open the car door, she said, “It isn't a joke, you know. Excess stress can cause acidity, and the buildup of hydrochloric acid in your stomach walls will—”

“The Christmas cookies will fix that.”

“No, they won't.”

“It's a proven science. A little bit of sugar from cookies and a bit of love goes a long way,”

“Uh-huh,” she bit back a laugh, as she pulled out of the driveway. 

“Don't deny yourself happiness by not laughing,”

“I was not laughing,”

“Were too,”

————

Mini got to work sorting the ingredients. (Rudy was told, “You're tall, will you please hang up the fairy lights?”)

She frowned at the food, and thought, Maybe I could make some Filipino dishes...

Those were the only ones she knew how to make well. 

She got to work, chopping vegetables, when she saw a bundle of leaves in a plastic baggie, unlike any other— as she picked it up, she realised it was mistletoe. 

Her first thought was, it's an invasive parasite to trees, what is it doing in my home? 

Then, it’s poisonous, what is it doing with the food?

And then, she connected the dots. 

“Ohhhh.”

“Hey, Rudy?” she called out, waiting for his response. “Yeah?”

“You forgot the mistletoe with the food,” she called out. 

“Oh, sorry!” 

A beat of silence. 

“Can I help put it up?” 

“Oh, sure, why not?” 

She kicked off her sneakers and got up on the couch, carefully cutting off a piece of tape, and attaching it to the piece of wool tied to the bundle of mistletoe. 

Just as she squinted and tried to secure it, she felt a strange sensation travel up her palm— and when she pulled her hand away from the mistletoe, she saw— a spider.

“Whoa!” She tried flicking it off, but it only crawled further up her arm. 

She fell off her couch, and would’ve probably cracked her skull if Rudy hadn’t caught her, yelling, “What’s wrong?!” 

“SPIDER!” She yelled back, “ON MY ARM!” 

Rudy cringed; he was as fond of spiders as she was (which was to say, not much), but when the need arose (and Brynne wasn’t there), the responsibility of getting rid of the spider would fall to him. (The other Potatoes had claimed that it was because he was immune to poison, as a snake, but, as much as he’d insisted that, That’s not how it works! ; he’d been named ‘Official Substitute Spider Crusher’; contracted to do his duty in the absence of Brynne. 

But, this time, he failed his duty, as, he scooped up the spider, half-listening to Mini’s doomsday declarations about the kind of poison it might have, half-feeling the spider try and escape, and, with one quick swipe, opened the window and threw it out. 

As if a weight had been lifted from his chest, he took a deep breath, and told Mini, who was crouched, hands covering her eyes. 

“It’s gone.”

“You killed it?” 

“No,” he said, in his most sombre tones, “I didn’t have the heart to. It’s the season of forgiveness, after all.” 

She offered him a weak smile, which fell when she checked her watch. 

“We don’t have time.”

Already resigned to his fate of being never, ever allowed to host a party again, he held out his hand to help her up. “Well, then let’s walk into this fiery hell together.” 

She took a deep, determined breath, accepted his hand, and said, “No. We can’t let your reputation die like this.” 

————

And, thankfully, Rudy’s reputation did not die. It was on life support. The combination of sugary drinks, sleep-deprivation, and heavy food led to all the Potatoes crashing on the floor of Mini’s apartment, the silence that comes with sleep being interrupted by Rudy. 

He carefully avoided stepping on them, and began gathering up stray hot choc mugs, and plates that had been scraped clean of pasta. 

He yawned, turning a fond look at Mini, curled up on the couch, bundled up in the hoodie of his she’d sworn that she hadn’t stolen last week. 

Carefully putting the dishes in the sink, narrowly avoiding stepping over an asleep Aiden, (and mumbling an apology to him), and sunk in next to the couch next to Mini. 

She yawned, leaning in closer next to him, as he felt her weight and warmth. 

He glanced up with tired eyes, seeing the glitter attached to the mistletoe glint in the distant lights of the city. 

He smiled, slightly, and, stealing Mini’s favourite move to use on him, he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.” 

————

[courtingchaos]

Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: This is quite the eventful day your both having, huh? I wonder what winter wonderland delights await you in the evening.

A/N: Ha ha ha this took so long oh my god. I'm still not happy with this, but it is what it is. The format is a little funky but it's because this was written in chunks and also frankensteined together a bit. I do hope everyone has fun though! I'm almost done with the next part, mainly because this was such a struggle and I ended up writing ahead of myself. Thank you my lovelies!

Warnings: Nothing I can think of, just a little self love ;) still 18+ minors g t f o please

The dim blues of the too early morning paint the wall, a small patch of pink sunlight glinting off the tacks holding up the posters there. It’s 6am, a whole hour before you’d normally be up but you’d gone to bed late and it’s bled through with a night of restless sleep. Those first couple of bleary minutes the only time your brain feels quiet and still. 

The chill of the morning lingers, tips of your fingers cold where you groggily try to move your arms and hands to warm them up against your stomach under your shirt. 

It’s when the grogginess is gone but you’re eyes haven’t adjusted to the light that you start the little patterns, dragging your finger tips over your skin and slowly inching the hem of your t-shirt up. Under the blanket is warm and you wiggle in further to tuck your nose below the edge of the comforter. Fingers continue their featherlight dance across your ribs, pulling goosebumps up along their wake and in the quiet alone you have for another hour, you can pretend they’re not your own. 

Heavier, bigger. Thumbs calloused, rough where they drag just under the swell of your breast and the shiver runs right up the back of your neck, over the crown of your head. A little sigh and one hand roams lower, splayed wide and flat against the soft skin of your belly. Traces over your hip and up your thigh where it digs into the supple skin there, pulls it out and down towards the bed. The hand still at your chest pulls up on the shirt to get a handful of your tits, rolls the already hard nipple between thumb and forefinger earning a low gasp from you. 

Haven’t even gotten to the good part yet. 

You’d asked Eddie once, jokingly, just what he was doing to keep these girls around. 

“Need pointers?” He’d laughed when you’d pushed his shoulder. Shrugged all cool and casual, chewing on the straw of his drink for moment.

“Got a talent for eating out.” A smug grin across his face when you’d coughed, choking on the sip you’d just taken. 

“What, too crass? Are you blushing?!”

That had turned into a night of secret spilling and Eddie finding out you’d slept with some ‘real fuckin’ losers’, his opinion.  

“So they just like, never offered?”

“No? Why would they? We were already fucking.” You’d mumbled that into the worn cushion of the couch, face down to hide your embarrassment. 

“Because it’s fun?”

Fun. 

He’d said it was fun. 

Head buried between thighs and mouth searching, hands grabbing. 

Hands that move from the inside of your thigh to your underwear to slide under the band and dip right into the heat of you, running lazy fingers through your folds, dipping lower to tease and gather slick to pull back up and right over your clit. Your head slides to the edge of your pillow and you let it hang over the short edge while a string of curses float out of you. 

You imagine him in a dozen different ways. Hovering over you, laying kisses from your cheek down your neck and finally to your chest. Nipple between teeth while he buries his fingers deep in you. 

Or leaned back on his heels, watching himself spread you open while he lazily jerks off, heavy cock twitching in his palm, whispering all the things your desperate to hear him say. 

Mostly you picture his halo of curls, laying soft across your lap. Thick fingers dug into the meat your thighs pulling you closer to his face, keeping you pinned to the bed. Tongue hot while he runs the point of it through your folds, smiling against you when that sigh escapes you again. 

The slow circles you’ve been working over yourself speed up, hand still kneading your breast and you hone in on the things you are familiar with. 

The heat of him standing close. How his hands feel against you. The smell of clean laundry and smoke and whatever the hell deodorant he wears. That impish grin with his stupid dimples bracketing his pink lips. His mouth that never fucking stops. All the little personal ways he hangs around your life you play on repeat. 

The white noise of quiet in your room turns to ringing in your ears, drowns out the pathetic little whines and moans falling out of you. The heat that’s been building low finally breaks, burns up through your abdomen and licks up your spine. A breathy sigh of “Eddie” and the heat hits your face, the blush creeping in fast enough to make you feel lightheaded. 

There’s a few minutes where you’re locked up, knees pulled in tight together and back arched up off the bed while you come back down to earth. 

Under the covers is still warm. Your limbs are pliant now. Your brain is buzzing and awake. 

The clock is loud when it goes off next to your head, pulling you out of any kind of daze you were lingering in. A sigh puffs the blanket up around your face and you ignore the knot of guilt starting to form under your ribs. 

Cold bites through your open coat while you dig around the inside pockets for your zippo. The two of you are close, leaned up against the front of Eddie’s van to absorb the left over heat. 

“I think I left it at home.” You look up and he flicks his lighter to life in front of you, grinning over the flame. 

“Figured.” 

Cupping your hand around it to shade it from the wind gives you a little kiss of warmth from the fire. The early morning sun warming the back of your neck where it peaks out of the clouds. The van warming your thigh through your jeans. It’s cozy, this little moment. A breath in and a puff of smoke escapes your lips. Eddie pockets his lighter but doesn’t lean away so you stay close too and ask him if he actually did his homework for English. Share the cigarette between the two of you, foggy breath and smoke mingle with your voices while he tells you about his essay. 

“It’s probably fine, I got wordy again, you know how O’Donnell feels about that. Figure I can scrape a C out of it.”

“Just a C?”

“She fuckin’ hates me.” He laughs and you let your eyes wander over his smile, watching the cigarette move in the corner of his mouth. “You wanna see it?” He’s digging through his bag where it’s propped on the small hood. 

“Yeah, lemme see it.” 

His fingers brush yours again when you grab for the smoke and you think about your early morning solo tryst. You cast your face down briefly so he doesn’t catch the stupid little grin on your face. He’s unaware when he fishes out his notebook and flips it open for you to glance at. You scan the page fast, it looks like yours and honestly, he might slide a B out of this. 

Maybe. 

“I think this was just busy work before break, so you might get lucky.” 

“For once in my life.” He scoffs and you let out a sour little laugh. 

Oh, just once?

“What?”

“Aren’t you always getting lucky?” 

“Oh come on.” His grin is shy and he reaches out and snatches the cigarette right out of your mouth, earning him a gasp. 

“Excuse me?” You slap at his chest and mange to push his shoulder away from you but he’s planted firmly in place. He raises his eyebrows at you, still grinning and laughing. Another little push and you hold your hand out, waiting for him to drop the cigarette back between your fingers. 

���It’s not all the time.” 

“Oh only when she sends out the call to arms?” 

Eddie just sighs at you. Shakes his head and takes one last pull before handing the cigarette back. Around a mouthful of smoke he says, “You can kill it.” He gathers up his bag, stuffing the notebook back in and starts to turn around the corner of the van. 

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to upset you.” You’re voice is small behind him and your tug on his bag slung over his shoulder makes him pause to look back at you. “I was just teasin’.”

“I’m not upset, I promise.” His expression is soft. 

“Come on, I don’t want O’Dick bitching at me for being late too.” He flicks his head toward the front of the school, setting off again and you stub out the smoke, hot on his heels. 

Her footsteps are light in the crunch of the gravel walking over the trail that leads out to the picnic table in the woods. Normally she tries to not meet him during school, just sneaking over to his van after the last bell before anyone can see. Today though she’d slipped a note in his locker when the hallways were dead. 

‘Picnic during 3rd?’

She’s not embarrassed to be seen with Eddie. Well, not exactly. He’s just not her type per se, if he’s anyone’s really. She just doesn’t want to be seen with him is all. It’ll cause a fight and everyone will talk and that’s the last thing she needs, especially if Mark is actually trying to ask her to prom.

Look. Eddie is just…Eddie. He’s loud and obnoxious and arrogant and always smells like cigarettes and his hair is too long and and and-

And what. 

He’s a nice guy. He didn’t make fun of her like her teammates when she didn’t even know how to smoke. He’d talked her through how to roll it, how to smoke it, how to hold her breath in till it didn’t hurt. All smiles and small talk and by the end of it they were something like acquaintances. 

So back she went, another $30 in hand, to the picnic table in the woods and he’d been all jokes again. Asked if she needed help again. Made her feel comfortable again. 

And then he had to go and ask her out. 

Not out-out. He knew better than that. This was one of those quiet things that she’d heard some of the other girls talk about. 

Fool around when parents aren’t home kind of thing. 

Date with the back of his van kind of thing. 

A little stoned stargazing and wandering hands at the lake kind of thing. 

Still, she’d said no. She didn’t want secondhand dates, she wanted Mark and his first class ones. 

Mark and Gwen. Gwen and Mark. 

But Mark hadn’t said anything yet, all she had were the cheer teams whispers and her own intuition to go on. 

(Maybe she did want those dates.)

Cornering him at his van, angled so no one could see her, she’d gone back on her own promise. 

“Does that offer still stand?”

Of course it did, and she was sure he could draw a map from memory of her room by now. Eddie was fun because he was nice and because he was different but she could see the pit just in front of her now. How easy it’d be to say fuck it and walk him out in public in front of everyone. Show him off to all her teammates and turn her nose up at anyone who scoffed. Take a swan dive right into the dark depths of that chasm. Eddie was nice and he was good, and he was very nice and very good to her. He could be her little trailer park boyfriend and when she would inevitably ship off to Barnard next year she could drag him with her to New York and then!

And then? What? That pit again. Eddie was good and nice but he was what, a drug dealer? A failing senior? A trailer park kid with a dad in jail and a dead mom? Eddie was a pit. 

Mark’s mom was a librarian downtown and his dad was a property lawyer for Harrington Development. He lived in Loch Nora, two streets from her own home. He didn’t even smoke weed, that’s how committed he was to basketball and making varsity. He was gonna go to Purdue and be a Boilermaker. 

Gwen stops short when the table comes into view and she sees the back of your head, dark locks spilling onto the splintered wood. 

“Oh.” It falls from her mouth before she can really think and you spin around, eyes wide and cigarette hanging from your lips. 

“Hey! Uh are you-“

“Did Eddie send you?” Gwen’s gripping the straps on her backpack in an attempt to stop her stomach from plummeting. Did he send you out here to…to what? Beat her up? She’s heard about your temper and how short your fuse is and-

“What? No, this is my free period I just snuck out to smoke.” You’re up now, holding the cigarette in front of you as evidence. Gwen unwinds a little. “I didn’t know you two were meeting out here, sorry. I’ll make myself scarce.” You shoot her a tight smile and go to grab your stuff, ready to head back the way she just came. 

“Wait, please?” 

You pause, eyebrows raised in question. 

“Can I…ask you something? Or talk?” She doesn’t even know what she wants to say to you. Gwen’s interactions with you have been third party through Eddie and she’s gotten the vibe that she wasn’t quiet popular with you or the rest of the gang. 

“Sure.”

“You and Eddie aren’t like-“ 

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” You hold a hand up to her. You look annoyed and now she’s starting to feel it too. 

“I’m just asking.”

“I know, and I’m telling you. We’re not an item, never have been. Just friends.” You’ve shifted back to sitting, this time facing her, leaned forward on your arms. Gwen keeps watching the cherry on the cigarette your fiddling with between your clasped hands like it’s keeping her focused. “I get what it looks like but he doesn’t-we don’t feel that way about each other.” Her eyes snap up to yours and she swears she can see a hint of panic in the crease of your forehead. 

He doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t. 

Gwen nods lightly and makes for the opposite bench. A long sigh escapes when she sits down before looking up at you again. 

“I know you don’t really like me.”

“I never said-“

“Let me finish. I know Eddie’s canceled some plans with you guys because of us and that isn’t going to win me any favors. I also know y’all aren’t stupid. You know what this is. I’m not part of your little group of misfits. He’s your friend first, I get it, and I’m not…I’m not his girlfriend,” another big sigh and she shakes her head to clear it, “and I-I don’t want to be.” 

Oof. 

The silence sticks like the snow clinging to the roots around the trees out here. Gwen is still looking at you, looking for a response. Anger maybe, on behalf of your friend who’s being used. Sadness or jealousy even, over something you’ll never have with him. What she’s not expecting is the loud laugh you bark out. Loud enough to startle a bird out of the tree near you two. You take a long drag and rub a hand over your eyes. 

“Listen, Gwen. I don’t hate you, but you don’t belong here.” You gesture at the space between the two of you. “That little confession isn’t news, did you think Eddie was trying to go steady with you?” There’s no cruelty in your voice and that stuns her more than if there was. 

“I-I mean-“

“Sorry I know how that sounds, but Eddie? This isn’t his first time playing this game with your type. You guys fool around for a while and then you dump him when prom rolls around, or some jock finally notices you and takes you on a real date.” It’s so matter of fact, like you’d read her mind on the walk over. 

Am I that transparent?

“I mean, he’s like king of the nerds around here and still pulling cheerleaders. Do you really think he cares about having to also take you on a date?” Okay that one was a little harsh, Gwen can feel the teeth sinking in to bite. 

“He did ask me out, that first time.” She snaps. 

He did ask me out. 

“I don’t doubt that. He still hasn’t learned his lesson from Francesca. You don’t date cheerleaders if you don’t have a Letter.” 

Fran had been one of the girls who’d told Gwen about Eddie, albeit a little cruelly. 

“I took his virginity, your welcome.” She’d giggled at Gwen over her lunch, swatting playfully at her hand. “He’s a lot of fun, but he gets all googly-eyed if you’re too nice to him. Gets it in his head he has a chance.” The group had laughed and Gwen had felt a little cold. 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him.”

You stub out your cig in front of you and neatly avoid her gaze. 

“I didn’t think you were. It’s…look, you’re breaking it off right?”

She nods. 

“Better offer?”

Gwen wishes you wouldn’t say it like that. There’s no pretense anymore though. 

“Yeah.”

You hum and nod a few times and cast a look over her shoulder, past her into the woods. 

“Is he nice?”

Gwen’s taken aback again. Why would you care?

“I think so. His name’s Mark. I don’t know if you know him, but he plays basketball and he’s….the JV…” She’s trying to keep the quiet at bay but just trails off softly. Feels stupid for talking. 

You pick at the table, face screwed up in thought. You’re quiet for a little too long and it has her looking around, wondering if Eddie even got the note. 

“I don’t hate you Gwen, I’m just…jealous?” That brings her head snapping back around and you wave her off with an air of avoidance. “Don’t read into that. I’m glad you found your basketball prince or whatever just, don’t be mean to Eddie.”

“I won’t.” She means it, she was just going to be truthful. 

There’s a beat before you slap the table and stand up. “Okay, I’m gonna get the fuck out of here because I don’t really need to see that in person. Try not to ruin his whole day, yeah?” You’ve already gathered your bag and started towards the trail back to the baseball field. All Gwen can do is nod, the nerves seeping back in with the cold that’s climbing up her legs. 

Ahead of you there’s the shuffling of dragging feet through gravel and the familiar huff of someone who never runs the mile in gym. Eddie sees you first though, coming to a stop a few feet ahead of you. 

“Hey trouble, what are you doing out here?” His face is screwed up in confusion, wondering if he’s misunderstood who the note was from when he sees your face pull into a tight frown. 

“Ditching the library but I ran into your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.” Too quick to respond and he sees you chuckle. 

“Yeah not for long man.” He wouldn’t say it’s glee written across your face, but there isn’t any regret there that’s for sure. 

“The hell does that mean?” Eddie has an idea, had a feeling in the pit of his stomach this morning when he woke up. He’d planned on telling Gwen it was over by Friday, but it looks like she’s beat him to it. There’s a small sympathetic smile on your lips and you cross the space between the two of you to clap a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just let me know if you need to drink about it later.”

He nods and rolls his eyes, a big sigh working it’s way out of his chest. The knot that’d been sitting heavy loosens a little under the warmth of your fingers. 

He wants to walk back up to the school with you, leave this sphere of guilt out in the woods where he can forget it. He could just slide your hand off his shoulder and link it with his to drag you back up the trail and the two of you don’t even need to go back to class. It’s cold out, but he still has blankets in the back of his van and he can think of a few ways to keep you two warm. 

Another nod, this one final and he steps around you to go find Gwen out in the clearing. 

You don’t see him again until lunch when you rush him. So engrossed with whatever Gareth is telling him he doesn’t hear the squeak of your converse barreling up beside to tackle him into the wall. 

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie’s elbow comes down in the middle of your shoulders and you just laugh. Bent over and smushed up into his ribs you get a face full of leather and clean laundry. Gareth jumps away to avoid his flailing but he’s laughing. Everyone else around you seems unimpressed with the display. You give him a big squeeze before letting go. 

“Oh unclench.” You say to a passing group, all holding on to their lunch trays like your gonna slap them on the floor. 

“You coulda broken my ribs.” Eddie is rubbing his side, mock hurt pulling at his features. 

“You have flipped me clean over your shoulder and I’m fine! You’ll live.” You see Gareth’s eyebrows raising and before he can open his mouth you shove his face away, eliciting another laugh from him. 

“Don’t be a pervert.” 

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet during lunch, both Gareth and you keeping an eye on him. He told you two the gist of it, his little woodland meeting. 

“She told me about Mark.” He sticks his tongue out. “I should have know, prom is right around the corner.” He’s creeping in on himself, shoulders pulling down. “It’s whatever. I was getting bored anyways.”

The way he says it sits weird with you. 

“Bored with sex?” You’re trying to lighten the mood. Gareth laughs into his pudding cup and he’s just full of giggles today it would seem. Eddie kicks him under the table. 

“No, that’s not what I said.” Eddie is blushing now, floundering for his next words. You keep looking at him and it keeps making him stumble and blush more and mission accomplished. 

“What, were you gonna break up with her?” Gareth asks like it’s the dumbest thing in the world. Yeah, why would he break up with the hot cheerleader?

When he doesn’t answer or look up from his chips, Gareth drops the sarcasm. 

“Oh shit you were.” 

Eddie does shoot him a look then, a silent ‘shut up’ if you ever saw one. 

You keep it to yourself, but there’s a warmth that grows up the inside of you with the knowledge that he’d made the decision this time before it was made for him. 

The crumpled up paper all over his floor is a testament to his stupidity. At least he thinks so because why god why is it so hard to write a letter to someone. He’s tried every iteration of ‘I’m obsessed with you, will you please kiss me’. Some of them had turned into half ramblings about some dream he’d had and he’s absolutely not giving you some R rated fantasy to try to win you over. 

(The thought keeps crossing his mind though.)

In desperation he’d even thought about trying to write out some kind of solo player campaign that involved a maze and a riddle. He’d been halfway to writing it, stressed and sleep deprived when he realized how long it’d take and this was supposed to be a love letter for fucks sake.  

He hadn’t given himself a timeline really, had just been thinking in afters. After he called it off with Gwen. After he wrote you an epic poem. After he got his head out of his ass. 

But one of the afters, the most important really, had kind of happened out of step and it left him adrift. 

When would he tell you? He couldn’t let this go on much longer, he’d run out of little trinkets to steal from you. He’d collapse in on himself if he had to suppress any urge around you much longer. He figures two weeks off of school would give him time to clear his head. Get to the new year. Hell, maybe even make his and yours New Years Eve a nice memorable one for once.

With one after out of the way he thinks maybe he doesn’t need the others. 

Maybe…maybe it didn’t need to be a letter. He could just tell you. Just lay himself out, heart on his sleeve. 

(Head would be firmly out of ass too.) 

Even if you said no he knows you wouldn’t be cruel, not to him. 

What if she doesn’t want to be friends anymore?

No. No he won’t let that happen because he’s so good at pretending. Pretending everything is fine and pretending he’s okay and that nothing is going wrong ever for him. Pretending that he’d be over you in an instant. 

She’s gonna see right through that, genius. 

Okay new thought. 

You say yes. Of course you’d say yes, it’s Eddie! You’re already up each others asses enough everyone thinks your dating anyways. You’re comfortable around each other, you share secrets like you share food and drinks (and that lollipop that one time.) There’s no one else he’d rather hang out with normally, except maybe Gareth but he’s never wanted to pin him up against a wall and kiss him till he can’t breathe. 

He’s pacing his room, small little lazy circles in the cramped space, chewing on a hangnail on his thumb. He’s lost in thought enough that he almost misses the phone ringing and he bounds down the hallway to the kitchen. 

“Hello?”

“Took you long enough. What, were you jerkin’ off? Too busy to answer me?” You joke around a mouthful of something. Eddie can hear the clink of a spoon in a bowl from your end. 

“Ha ha.”

“Seriously, what are you up to?” You cut to the chase. It’s Thursday so both Wayne and your mom are working overnight and Eddie’s brain starts working overtime. Could just tell you tonight, force his own hand and spill his guts. Could be a Christmas miracle instead, one thing going his way for once. 

“Nothing special. Wanna come over and waste a perfectly good evening?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

20 minutes later he hears you outside, coming up the steps and before you can knock he swings the door open. 

“Thanks for dressing up.” He smirks, looking you up and down. Ratty jeans under oversized hoodie under secondhand peacoat. You scoff hard, one of his favorite sounds you make. 

“Oh fuck you Munson. I bring you booze and you critique my attire?” You half pull out a bottle from the folds of you coat to show him. “Like you’ve got any room to talk.”

“My apologies, I didn’t know we were partying.” His hand slaps against his chest and you push him out of the way, smiling as you filter into the trailer. The bottle goes on the kitchen counter and you toss your coat over the back of the recliner. 

“I figure we could skip tomorrow. Last day before break, you know we aren’t doing shit. Also I figured you could use a drink or three.” You’re busying yourself in the kitchen, finding glasses and grabbing a soda out of his fridge. Eddie hasn’t said anything because he’s realizing a fatal flaw in his plan, where if he tells you how he feels then you’ll know how he feels. Having you in the same room as his thoughts makes it evident that he needs to figure his shit out. 

“I told you I’m fine.”

“I know, but getting dumped for Mark the Hoop King can’t feel great.”

“I mean, honestly I wasn’t that invested.” He shrugs, coming over to lean on the outside of the counter and watching you crack open the fifth of jack you definitely stole from your mom. You shoot him a doubtful look under the cabinets. He feels like he might start vibrating if he keeps thinking about telling you anything ever. 

“If you say so.” The glass you push towards him is more liquor than soda and Eddie grimaces before even taking a sip. Knows it’ll burn. Knows it’ll loosen his tongue. He downs half before he can talk himself out of it. You cheers the air in front of you and follow suit, sucking your teeth when the glass hits the countertop. 

“What are we watching tonight?” The strain on your voice makes him chuckle, your own drink working against you. 

“I got The Dead Zone if you want to watch something horror, and I also snagged the last copy of Year Without a Santa Claus because I know you can’t get enough of the snow miser.” 

You let out a gasp and clap your hands together, gathering up your glass and shimmying over to the couch. You look at him expectantly where he’s still leaned up against the counter and gesture at the tv set. 

“Well come on! Santa’s not gonna get fat without us.” 

Eddie gives you another smile and heads to his room to grab the cassettes off of his dresser. On his way back into the living room he sees you pulling your feet up onto the cushion, adjusting around until you’re comfortable. 

Down deep he lets himself have a moment. 

He can pretend when he sits down next you he could snake his arm around you and pull you close. Smush his nose into your hair while some claymation character sings about the joy of the season. 

Instead he grabs the bottle from the kitchen after getting the tape set up and drops down on the opposite side of you. Swings his legs up to shove his socked feet under your calf. You laugh through your nose and settle into the couch further and he supposes this is good too. 

When the credits roll the both of you are tipsy, more so you since you’d taken Eddie up on his game. Any time you felt the need to recite along with the movie, he’d pour a little more into your glass, effectively turning it all into whiskey. He took a few swigs in solidarity with you but he was finding your rosy cheeks and giggles a little distracting, loosing count of how many sips behind he was. 

“Laugh at me all you want, I love Rankin and Bass. There’s an Easter one I’m gonna make you watch in April.” You’ve stretched out alongside Eddie, feet wiggling beside his shoulder while you nurse the half full cup clasped between your hands. 

“You’re not gonna make me do shit.” His laugh rumbles quiet in his chest. He sounds a little buzzed, voice deeper from the drinks. His own feet are stuffed behind your back and he moves them around, jostling you lightly. You laugh and tell him to stop, slapping his knee. 

“I’m gonna spill my drink!” 

He does it again and you dip your fingers into your cup and flick the liquid at him. 

“That’s low!” 

“Stop kicking me!”

He sits up and leans forward, hands reaching for your glass and you try to pull it away but he hooks a finger on the rim. 

“Ed-!“ and tips it forward right into his lap. Neither of you jump to move out of the way, accepting the sticky fate right off. The hand you’ve slapped over your mouth is doing nothing to hide the laugh that’s shaking your shoulders. Eddie stares down at this lap and then back up to you which seems to send you into a harder fit of giggles. 

“Here let me-“

“I just need to move my legs-“ It’s a scramble to get off the couch before anything sinks too deep into the cushion. You can see Eddie trying to hold back laughter himself but refusing to break a smile in front of you. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room with his hands out to his side and you just can’t seem to stop laughing at his awkwardness. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go change, try not to make any more messes while I’m gone?”

“Me?!”

He’d shuffled around his room before heading into the bathroom and you’d taken the opportunity to switch the movie out. Standing in front of the tv waiting for the credits to roll you notice a wet patch on your hoodie that’s soaked through to your shirt. “Ah, Eddie what the shit.” Wobbling slightly down the hallway to his room to root around for a t-shirt that would fit, you hear the shower kick on. 

It makes you pause, the haze of liquor whispering at you to lean forward. Press your ear up against the door lightly. There’s shuffling and a small bump followed by Eddie’s quiet cursing. The shower curtain pulling open and closed. The heavy thud of your heartbeat in your ear. You trail a finger down the door, hand hovering near the handle before you startle and pull your hand back. 

What are you doing?

Getting a shirt. Yeah. A head shake to get your brain right, you aren’t even drunk what are you doing?

You shut the bedroom door behind you and strip off your sweatshirt and top, pulling open the bottom drawer of his dresser where all his shirts are shoved in haphazardly. 

“How do you find anything in here.” Mumbling while shuffling through all his shit, you find a faded out ren fair shirt and when you stand up a glint of metal catches your eye. His little secret drawer he was gatekeeping his weed in is ajar and just inside is…your zippo? You’d thought you’d just left it at home this morning but now it’s here. 

You shove the shirt on and open the drawer completely to see, yep, your silver VFW zippo slide fully into view. 

Along with an assortment of things. 

Frowning, you sift through some smaller hair clips that you swore you’d lost at school or in the chaos of your car. There’s two eyeliner pencils that you’ve replaced twice now. A lipstick you’d bitched about misplacing. 

And your tiefling minifig. 

Eddie had been adamant you hadn’t left it at his or Hellfire. Had said he hadn’t seen the little purple figure you’d spent a few hours painting delicately. 

What the fuck. 

You wrench the drawer open all the way and and see a handful of picks and two rings you reallythought you’d lost in the mayhem of the locker room after gym. Some folded up notes you’ve passed him in classes. There’s fabric bunched up at the back that you shake out. It’s the Dead Kennedys shirt you’ve been missing for months. 

What the fuck Eddie. 

You pick up the little wooden box, expecting to find more of your shit in it but it’s what’s underneath that catches your attention. 

You only pause for a moment, an upside down polaroid could be anything, or anyone really, but you don’t care right now because he has a drawer of your shit and-

The edges are worn a little like it’s been handled frequently, a corner of the white tab bent just a little. 

The wooden box is clutched against your chest, knuckles white with the tightness of your fist holding it to you. 

You’ve never seen this photo. You’ve got an idea of when it was taken, you’ve only dressed up like Elvira the one time. 

Your eyes are roaming the photo, looking for…what? Your hand in the bottom of the photo keeps snagging your attention. Dark nails dug into dark denim. 

Is this how he saw you? There’s an itch at the base of your skull that feels like fire and your mind rolls in it. Maybe you weren’t crazy after all, pining after Eddie Munson. Your stomach does a somersault at the notion. 

The trailer is quiet around you, some truck going by outside but otherwise nothing. The creak of the hinges being flexed under your hand where you’re blanking out in the quiet. 

You don’t hear the bathroom door open or Eddie wandering out to living room to see you gone. 

Mind going a mile a minute piecing the puzzle together. 

This was last year, so he’s had this for a whole year and then a drawer full of shit he said he hadn’t seen and my zippo that I just talked about this morning did he take it out of my pocket-

“I see how it is, you snoop while I’m in the shower.” Eddie’s voice is a clear cut through the tornado sirens going off in your mind. The door opens behind you and you see him in the mirror toweling off his hair. 

“I keep telling you you’re gonna find-“ He’s dropped the towel and pushed his hair out of his eyes to see your back to him, watching him in the reflection of his mirror. His eyes flick down to the top of his dresser where the contents of the drawer are sprawled out. Panic blooms over his face when his eyes find yours again and he notices your hands in the mirror, clutching the box and-

Oh my god no. 

He thinks his heart has ceased beating, might even have brain leaking out of his ears. He watches you turn around, sees your eyebrows drawn together. He can’t tell if you’re angry or worried or scared? Maybe all three. Holds his breath till you say something because he hadn’t thought about this outcome. Had thought he’d been good about keeping it hidden, his stupid fucking crush on you. Tucked under boxes of weed or in pages of books. Under a mattress. In a breast pocket. 

Eddie can hear the deep breaths you’re taking and he wonders how you’re finding oxygen in this room. 

Your voice is quiet when your eyes search his, holding up the picture. 

“Ed?”

💕Tag List💕

@edsforehead, @fracturedarkness, @munsonsguitarpick, @bebe0701, @ali-r3n, @cantreadbutcute, @marjoriea13, @demeterlindavis, @eddiethesexy, @fckyeahlames, @tiannamortis, @munsonzzgf, @emma77645, @starrywhitenight, @e0509, @chelebelletx,

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 4 🦌

"Broken Glass"

Content: guns, threats, dehumanization, kinda pet whump, restraints, failed escape, glass and blood, stitches, creepy and intimate whumper, noncon kissing, removing clothes.

1800 words

I'M BACK !!!!

So sorry about my absence over the last few months! I originally had a shit ton written on my absence, but you aren't here to hear me yap about my life. Though I will say I'm still in a bit of writer's block, so please excuse me if I continue to remain gone for a while, or updates are slow. I'm also not too happy with the writing this part, but it is what it is. I've been so angry at my writing recently you have no idea, hence my writer's block.

But anyways! I'm back and it's time for part 4! This is where things get more whumpy and our poor little Fawn gets pushed around and hurt. You hate love to see it. To find the other parts, you can search the fawn and hunter tag on my profile. Anyways let's goooo

       Hunter awoke to the morning sun shining in through the cracks of their boarded up windows. They finally managed to fall asleep at some odd hour of the night. They'd nearly forgotten about the treasure they acquired the day before, and when they remembered, they gleefully got out of bed, grabbing a shotgun as they trudged down into the basement.

       Hunter pulled the light string, and the room illuminated with a click. The first thing they noticed was the puddle on the floor.

       Oh, so the poor thing did piss on the floor...

       Hunter looked to their captive, who was curled up on the mattress, clutching a knife to their chest like it was a comfort item. How cute, Hunter thought, they brought a knife to a gun fight.

       Hunter crouched down beside the sleeping figure, admiring them. They pushed their disheveled hair out of their eyes, noticing the cracks in their big, round glasses and the stress that's already formed on their face.

       Hunter nudged their side with their shotgun, waking them up. As Fawn blinked their eyes awake, they widened at the gun in their face. They gasped as adrenaline shot through them, clutching the knife tighter as they scooted back against the wall.

       "Where'd you find that at?" Hunter asked, looking between them and the knife, a smirk on their face.

       Fawn stared up at them, still with wide, fearful eyes. Their hands started to shake and sweat as their heart beat faster and faster. They felt their eyes water as they pointed the knife up at their captor, "S-stay away from me."

       Hunter simply chuckled, smiling, "You think that little thing is gonna protect you? Baby, I've got a gun."

       "I'm- I'm not your baby!" They tried to sound stern, but fell beyond flat. The shaking of their tear stained voice was like music to Hunter's ears.

       "Hm? Why not? You sure act like one." They said, and got closer to them, putting the gun under their chin, "Drop the knife, little fawn."

       Fawn's breathing grew heavy as they froze in fear.

       "Drop it." Hunter commanded as if Fawn were a dog.

        Fawn dropped the knife, almost feeling against their will as their muscles acted without their brain.

       "There we go, such a good little thing," Hunter cooed. "Oh, don't you look at me like that, I think that thing fits you perfectly."

       Fawn opened their mouth to protest.

       "Shut it."

       Fawn closed their quivering lips. Hunter crouched down to their level, sitting down on the mattress, observing them.

       Hunter tilted their head, "How's your leg?"

       "Wo-wouldn't y-you care." Fawn said bitterly.

       "Which one of us is holding a gun?"

        Fawn squeezed their eyes shut, and spoke through gritted teeth, "It's fine."

       "Fine enough to hobble up the stairs last night?"

        "I needed the bathroom."

        "Need is a strong word. Clearly you didn't. It was optional."

       "I had to go on the floor, what do you mean optional?"

       "Well the floor's an option, is it not?"

       "Yeah, if you're an animal!"

       "Are you not one?"

       Fawn's face flushed with embarrassment and anger, "Oh, just shoot me! It's not worth it!" They slumped back and crossed their arms.

       Hunter chucked, "Dramatic much?"

       Fawn stayed silent against the wall, their arms firmly crossed as they refused to look at them. They were not going to be their entertainment. The defiance didn't last very long, though.

       "Ugh! What's that fucking smirk for?" Fawn spat, embarrassment and anxiety turning to anger.

       "Ooh, big words for such a cute little thing." Hunter said, and before Fawn could respond, they grabbed onto a strap of their overalls and pulled them to their foot with ease.

       Hunter grabbed their chin and inspected their face, "You seem a bit dirty, no?"

       "I'm perfectly fine, thank you." Fawn shoved them off, "It's not like cleanliness matters very much around here."

       "Not for me, no, but you? I don't want you looking disheveled."

      "Whatever." Fawn sighed, then yelped when Hunter picked them up over their shoulder. They carried them to the bathroom and plopped them down on a counter.

       They stripped them of their overalls, leaving them in underwear and their sweater.

       "The sweater needs to come off too, pet."

       "I- but- it's cold! It's the middle of Autumn!"

       "Excuses, excuses." Hunter dismissed, grabbing onto their sweater, yanking it off them in on quick motion, causing them to yelp.

       Hunter started to wipe Fawn off with a cloth, and their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Embarrassed, angry, and scared weren't exactly a nice mix of emotions. They couldn't believe they were being cleaned like some kind of pet. They were just thankful they still had their underwear.

       After many minutes of tense scrubbing and washing, Hunter took a moment to step out of the room, leaving Fawn alone. They turned towards the window and a sudden surge of adrenaline came over them. They looked between the window and the door and made a quick, impulsive decision.

       They stood up and smashed the window with their elbow. A loud crash and crack boomed, along with the sound of Fawn yelling in pain. Instead of the whole window shattering, only a small hole was formed, and their arm was now stuck in the window.

       Hunter rushed back into the room, and looked much more concerned and annoyed then they did angry, "What the hell, Fawn? First you step into a bear trap and now you can't even break a window right. It's amazing you made it to adulthood."

       "I- I thought the window would break…"

       "What, did you think you could get away just by being outside? You said it yourself, it's the middle of Autumn, it's cold, you're barely wearing any clothes, AND you have a hurt ankle. Making smart decisions isn't exactly your area of expertise, is it?"

       Fawn wanted to yell, and scream, and cry. They were angry, and scared, and embarrassed, and wanted to curse profanities at their condescension. But they couldn't even move let alone make a sound. The physical pain they felt overpowered any emotion.

       Hunter sighed and walked over to them, breaking the window some more around their arm until it was free. They walked Fawn to the dining table and sat them down.

       Hunter meticulously picked out the multiple shards of glass in Fawn's arms. They were shaking, and wincing with each movement Hunter made. Blood was dripping down their arms and onto the floor.

       There were so many cuts, and so much blood you could barely even see skin anymore. Hunter carefully wiped their arm with cloths, though it didn't completely stop the blood. They had to poke around in their cuts for any tiny shards, digging inside the gashes to pull them out with tweezers.

       When Hunter was sure they got them all, they wrapped bandages around their arms. Though here was one spot in particular they were more concerned about. Near their right wrist, a large gash went down nearly to their elbow.

       "That one's gonna need stitches." They said.

       Fawn furrowed their brow, "And- and how are you going to- to do that?"

       "By giving you stitches, idiot." Hunter held up a needle.

       "You- you're- there's no way you're going to do that!"

       "What else do you want me to do? See, these are the consequences of your actions, Fawn. You step in my trap, you get stuck with me. Try to escape, I give you stitches. That's only fair."

       "Fair?!"

       "Yes, fair! Maybe be more careful."

       Fawn was shocked by their audacity, but then again, who would expect very much from someone who kidnaps and murders people?

       Hunter took their wrist and put it over their lap. The large gash in their arm was no longer bleeding, but it would start up again soon. Hunter put the needle to Fawn's skin, and they hitched a breath and closed their eyes, wincing as they braced for the pain.

       The cold metal pierced their skin and their whole body tensed as Hunter slowly sewed the scar closed. Their arm involuntarily shook and they couldn't hold it still, just making it more painful. Fawn hitched a sob as it escaped them.

       "You're so cute when you cry."

       "Shut- shut the fuck up."

       Hunter slapped them.

       Hard.

       They grabbed them by the chin, "You shut up, and you hold still." They said, firm and low, now grabbing onto their hand tightly. Each stitch felt like agony. The sharp piercing of the needle, the thread pulling through their skin, it was awful. And after a few more minutes, it was finished.

       "There, it's done." Hunter said. "Was that so bad?"

       "Fucking yes!" Fawn yelled as tears streamed down their freckled cheeks. Their arm was shaking like crazy, not to mention the unbearable throbbing and sting that ran all the way down their arm.

       Hunter gently reached out and took their bandaged, trembling arm in their hand, and kissed their wrist.

        Fawn twisted their arm from their grasp, "Don't you dare!"

       "Whaaat? Never heard of kisses making it feel better?"

       "Yeah, from mothers! Not you! You're not my mom!"

       "I could be like one."

       "You're fucking weird!"

       "Obviously. But I'm not done with you. Let me kiss it."

       Fawn scoffed, "Yeah right. Like that's happening."

       "Oh, it's happening whether you want it to or not! You stepped into my trap, now you get to play by my rules. Or- do I have to get more strict with you?" They reached for a gun, quickly knocking the sassy defiance out of them.

       "I- no- sir- ma'am- I-"

       "Give me your wrist."

       With tears still welled in their eyes, Fawn slowly placed a shaking hand into Hunter's palm.

       "There we go," Hunter cooed, pleased. They placed a kiss on their wrist, and slowly moved up their arm. Fawn squeezed their eyes shut and tensed as they feared the worst, but they stopped halfway up their arm, where the cut ended. Hunter lifted their head, and chuckled upon seeing their face, "What? Afraid I'm gonna kiss you?"

       Fawn just scowled.

       "Well, with you all nice and patched up I think it's time to eat, yeah?"

       Food was the last thing in Fawn's mind right now, especially if the food came from a deer. It didn't matter much though. Not like they were getting out of this.

       After dinner Hunter dragged them into a spare bedroom and threw them onto a bed.

       "I can't have you trying to escape again," Hunter said, picking up rope. "One attempt is plenty enough for me."

       "W-wh-" Fawn stammers, unable to get out a single word.

       "Lay down." Hunter commanded. They tied a rope around their ankles, then to the bed frame, doing the same with their wrists.

       "Don't try to squirm too much. You'll hurt your wrist, and your ankle. Just let it happen. There we go."

       Fawn could only lay still, their arms above their head, whole body immovable. If they tried to move their arms their wrist hurt. If they tried to move their legs, their ankle. Fawn winced in disgust as Hunter kissed their nose before leaving.

       Fawn could see the cracked bathroom window from where they lay. They watched as Hunter boarded up the window, just like every other one around the cabin. A sinking feeling arose in them when they realized…

       This wasn't the first time this has happened.

End note: I think it's so much fun when whumpers are casual. Like, don't get me wrong, I love a threatening whumper and terrified whumpee as much as the next person, but a more casual dynamic is so much fun to me. I like when they just bicker and whumpee doesn't have to walk on eggshells because whumper is more liberal with their rules. Like, they're more annoyed and incovinienced than scared, lol. Anyways, let me know what y'all think!

Also I'm starting a taglist as you can see, due to a request. Lemme know if you want added.

Taglist: @parasitebunny

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 1, Side B, Match 22

propaganda under the cut!

Renga:

Submission 1:

bc they gay

Submission 2:

i can go into heavy detail,,, AND I WILL!!!

1. their ship name is literally a form of poetry (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renga) and it's a type of poem written by multiple poets SO REKI AND LANGA ARE THE POETS WHO WRITE THEIR OWN POETRY TOGETHER 

2. they got along almost immediately after they met, and they found their reason for living together with each other via skateboarding!!! and they're best friends because they "get" each other like nobody else does!!! LIKE THE BEST KIND OF LOVE IS THE ONE WHERE YOU'RE BEST FRIENDS WITH EACH OTHER!!!

3. langa literally says "there's no meaning to skating if i can't do it with you" to reki AND IF THAT ISN'T THE SWEETEST THING EVER!!! and reki literally studies langa's way of skating to design a skateboard that fits perfectly to his snowboarder style AND HE GETS SO EXCITED TO SHOW LANGA IT!!!

4. they have their own fist bump that forms an infinity symbol which means that their love lasts forever and it's the loviest of lovey doves ur honor <3

5. they literally have a blue (langa) x red (reki) aesthetic WHICH IS OPPOSITES ATTRACT!!! they're also the cool guy x ray of sunshine,,, cat energy x dog energy tropes. also the "rambles for hours" x "listens happily" trope.

6. THEY WAKE UP AT ASS O' CLOCK IN THE MORNING JUST TO SEE EACH OTHER BEFORE SCHOOL AND SKATE TOGETHER AND THEY SNEAK OUT OF THEIR HOUSES TO STAY OUT LATE INTO THE NIGHT AND SPEND MORE TIME WITH EACH OTHER!!!! WHAT KIND OF TEENAGERS SACRIFICE THEIR SLEEP TIME IF NOT FOR THE ONE THEY LOVE???

anyways yeah. renga. beautiful bois who deserve to be together and were made as canon as could get past the censors.

Fitzsimmons

They're so so sweet and my favorite characters of this show!!! The show starts with them as the scientists of the team who are inseparable best friends. They're already being referred to as Fitzsimmons and people joke that when hearing that they thought it was one person being referred to.At this point they aren't together yet. They went to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Science and Technology together and became friends when they were paired in chem lab. In the show there's so many times they show how much they care for each other. In one episode Simmons gets infected with an alien disease and Fitz goes into her containment area to help her find a potential way to cure it. And at the end of the first season they get locked in a medical pod in an airplane which is then dropped into the ocean and there's only one air supply and Fitz confesses his feelings for Simmons and then opens the pod and gives her the air. She pulls him to the surface and both of them live but he had some brain damage from being without oxygen. He does eventually recover and their relationship goes through lots of hardship though various intense situations out of their control like Simmons being stranded on an alien planet and Fitz working desperately to find a way to bring her back. But through all of the crazy scenarios they go through they love each other so so much and they built that love on a strong foundation of friendship. They are the most important people in each others lives even before their romance begins and I love them very much

[axel-skz]

So, I made this decision to get a cat.

Wonderful idea, I know.

I was going to rescue one, but then, our family friends found a cat with what we thought was 2 kittens.

It was not in fact 2, but 3 kittens.

Someone they knew couldn’t afford to keep them anymore so they were giving them away, basically rescued ig.

I have had them for 3 to 4 days now. And the novelty of cats has worn off. Its like the universe gave me cats but it said, you’re gonna do this in hard mode.

I have found poop everywhere. They don’t see a litter box in the place they usually do because we opened the doors and let them out into the rest of the house? They poop in that spot on the floor. I smell it, then I feel it somewhere on my bed because they walk around with it stuck to their butts.

I mean, I should have more little boxes, I know, but they’ve been okay with 2 if I hadn’t moved them and I don’t have room for more.

They are looked after. I change the litter boxes like 6 times a day.

We were supposed to give 1 kitten to someone and my parents take a kitten but like everyone is waiting for them to grow up a bit.

I’m complaining like an idiot because I should be more prepared but like, I didn’t sign up for this and my sister loves one kitten and the mum cat so I can’t even give them away.

I keep crying cus I’m awake at all hours. I can’t charge anything unless I’m awake to do so and my adhd brain makes all of it a million times harder. I’m a heavy sleeper so I don’t want wires out in case something bad happens.

Anyway, god forbid I try to sleep because atleast one of them will be hopping around on me and then later suddenly I’ll wake up because something that smells entirely bathed in cat food is cuddling my nose.

I love them. So much. I will do everything for them while they’re here with me. I just need to get this out because it’s so hard and I feel like everyone is always looking at me, expecting me to fail.

This is the third day they woke me at 4:30 am. Or more like I got woken at 4:30 because it smelled of poop everywhere.

They’re having fun though and I guess that’s more important to me. Right now 2 are running around. Mother is just sat doing whatever. 1 is sleeping.

I don’t know what to do. I love all the kittens and this is just a 4 am rant. Or well, 5:30 now. If I get enough sleep I’m willing to put up with everything. I think. I don’t know.

[4awny]

do you have any crenny head canons? Or any of the characters

crenny headcanons you ask? i gotchu

here's 4 i plucked from my garden this morning:

Whose more emotional?

kenny. guy wears his heart on his sleeve. got a heart of pure gold. bless

craig kinda surpresses his feelings

like oh, something bad just happened to me? oh. okay. idk how to handle this unexplained emotion

kenny gotta help him sometimes. like telling him it's ok to be sad

it's not that craig refuses to show emotion

he just doesn't really know how to process things

it takes a while for his emotions to catch up

like lag on the brain

a hint at how craig's parents could have done better?

Who generally sleeps better?

ahhh you may think it's ye old InsomniaCraig! headcanon. not today my friend

craig is like a log when he sleeps. blacked out. gone. totally out of it. ain't nuthin waking that mf up til he's had his 8 and a half hours of beauty sleep

kenny is a light sleeper. guy had a bad upbringing, what do you expect? poor baby will wake up and stay up all night

and then walk around with red eyes for the next two days

also craig takes an hour to get out of bed

man loves his sleep

we must agree that kenny sleeps better with craig next to him

Any bad habits?

kinda subjective this one so i'll keep it as mutual as possible

as young teens, kenny would often steal cigarettes from his parents and share them with his friends

started to sell them at school

but then some kid ratted him out so he got suspended from school for a few days. pretty sure it was cartman

as he got older, his brother would buy them for him instead

at this point kenny got addicted

craig just kinda socially smoked for fun but then kenny kept offering him some

it's not like he was ever going to say no was he

prolly smoked weed together a bunch of times too

through their 20s, kenny realises he has an addictive personality. binge drinks with his friends on weekends

heavy drugs involved, but nothing too mental. he just kind of parties too hard

wrong crowd i guess

craig grows out of all of that when he's in his late twenties. just wants to settle down and live the quiet life

ok this has gone on for way too long NEXT

Who admitted their feelings first?

bit of an obvious one but yeah. kenny

i mean technically craig did when he 👀 him from across the table that one time and it threw kenny off because he knew what 👀 meant

but yeah kenny was the first to openly admit it

they never really started dating either

they just spent more and more time together

everyone knew but it was never really official

until eventually, they became roommates

yeah. roommates.

they separate at some point in their twenties, had different paths

kenny wants to sort himself out and actually make something of his life

changes it all around

craig continues to work a job he totally hates and then one day he quits

for no reason too

my guy is missing kenny

he's like 35 at this point and missing him. never fully moved on

some cute ass plotline reunites them and they live happily ever after the end

[frogofalltime]

05.03.2024

i woke up at 7am, ate breakfast, and got ready for class. my 9am lecture was about FROGS so you bet i was there EARLY and READY TO LEARN >:)

then i had lab from 10am to 1pm. half our group didn't show up and there wasn't enough equipment for the whole class so we spent the first two hours Literally Doing Nothing while waiting for our turn and then the last hour frantically trying to get everything done now that we were able to use the equipment. it was very stressful. but i made the most of the time when there wasn't much to do by taking time out from the lab, sitting in the sunshine, and eating Second Breakfast (because i wouldn't get a break from class until 2pm and i was really hungry already at 11am).

next was a lecture that was incredibly boring, it was a recap of stuff we already knew followed by an unnecessarily long explanation of how to solve simultaneous equations (which is something we definitely learned in high school or even before that ??) and i was really tired so i fell asleep. i was woken up at the end of the lecture by @etherealspacejelly poking me lmao. we went back to the house, but robin needed Alone Time and i was Going Insane From Everything, so i left.

on my way home i went for a walk in the park to try and feel better and enjoy the nice weather. i sat on a bench in the sun and it actually felt almost warm on my face. but then i realised i hadn't eaten lunch yet and i had an appointment with the gender clinic at 4:10pm so i rushed home and quickly ate something before that.

i was dreading the appointment because i had to talk about my family's transphobia, the recent incident with my mother, and how i was feeling like i was being forced to detransition. but it was actually very useful and they helped me to see the positives of transition and come up with a plan to write something down and use that to explain my feelings and identity to my mother next time she brings up the topic.

after that i was absolutely exhausted but it was only 5:30pm and i still had so many things i needed to do. robin encouraged me to do my laundry because i hadn't done it for two and a half weeks. so i dragged my heavy bag of dirty clothes to the laundry room at my student accommodation and somehow squeezed everything into one washing machine.

while my clothes were washing i decided to go to the small shop near my building to get the food i needed instead of having to go all the way to the big (and very overstimulating) supermarket. that way i could tick another Big Daunting Task off my list (GROCERY SHOPPING) without actually using up too many spoons in the process.

when i had put away my shopping i sat down for a few minutes to rest but then i realised my laundry was just about to finish so i forced myself to get up and collect it. i put as much of it in the dryer as i could, and took the rest to air dry in my room, because once again i had way too much laundry to possibly hang it all up on my clothes airer.

by now i was extremely tired and overwhelmed so i lay down on my bed in the dark and listened to music to calm myself down. but then even the music was too overstimulating so i just turned it off and lay there in silence.

i needed to eat, but i had no energy to cook, so i just ate soup and toast, while reading percy jackson. then i washed my dishes, and went back to the laundry room to collect my clothes from the dryer.

i put away the dry laundry while listening to music because i knew if i didn't do it now it would stay in my brain as a Big Task and stress me out. when i had done that i changed into my pyjamas, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. i did not have the energy to take a shower.

it was not even 10pm yet so i let myself relax by working on my sewing project in bed, while listening to youtube in the background. finally i went to sleep around midnight.

[dragonmuse]

i'm turning 41 this sunday, and it's not gonna be much of a thing due to life circumstances and well-practiced not-caring, but it'd tickle me if you had a fun idea how... really, anyone in the main verse might celebrate their 41st.

(happy early birthday! This one caught me right in the brain pan, so have several birthdays actually. These range from angsty to fluffy pretty much in that order because they're in age order. CW: parent death, shitty parent, but it counts)

Eddy  

The world was very quiet, in the wake of so much noise. Eddy’s ears stopped ringing quickly enough. They had secured the package, a blubbering girl, clinging to Eddy’s right arm. Vaguely, Eddy considered scrapping her off onto Fang, who could be counted on administering pats and sweet words to the distressed. 

“S’okay,” Izzy said roughly to her. “We gotta go though. Boss?” 

“Right,” Eddy shook her head, coming back to clarity. They gave the girl a smile, “You’re safe now. We’re going to bring you home.” 

“Thank you,” she wept harder, clinging tighter. Eddy pulled her into a hug, so she could look over her head at Izzy. She gave him three hand signs. He signed back acknowledgement and took off. 

Her will be done. 

Within an hour, they were all on a plane out. They returned the girl to the grave gratitude of her elderly parents. Eddy gave them the bank information. Suddenly they were all substantially richer. Magic. 

They walked out of the house. Eddy wanted to sleep. She wanted to never sleep again. 

“Drink?” Izzy asked. 

“Yeah.” 

They found a bar close by, too posh for their usual, but liquor was liquor. They both got whiskey and took it to a back table away from the daylight glare. They drank in silence, Eddy staring into space above Izzy’s head while Izzy fixed his attention to the door.  

It was only once she drained the glass and set it down, that his attention went to them again. He reached into his pocket, seemingly in slow motion then eventually set down something in front of them. Bemused, she picked it up. It was a coin, heavy and old. She turned it over and over. 

“What’s this?” 

“Found it while we were waiting for the raid. Caught my eye in the dirt,” he shrugged. “Looked old as fuck.” 

“Huh.” There was a face imprinted unevenly on it, words in a language she didn’t recognize.  Interesting. She slipped it into her pocket. 

“Another?” 

“Not today,” she got up, dug for her wallet, but he was already laying out the tip.  

“Headed home?” 

“Maybe.”  

He nodded as if he expected nothing else. Got to his feet. They’d ridden their bikes here, and they were waiting just down the road. Izzy saddled up, then hesitated a moment. 

“What?” She asked warily. His last minute pronouncements were rarely good, his deep desire to get in the last word often skewering the air. 

“Just...happy birthday,” he started his bike and before she could respond, he was gone. 

Asshole. 

It wasn't even their birthday. Was it? Frowning, she got out her phone and turned it back on. They rarely left it on when they left the country. 

It was their birthday. 

41 and still kicking. She shoved the phone back in her pocket where it clinked against the coin. 

Hoo-fucking-ray. 

Stede 

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Alma said carefully. Her hair was up in two pigtails, looking like sparklers. She smiled at him through the two candles, one a ‘4’, the other a ‘1’. The cake was small, perfunctory. Alma and Mary had sang, one with far more spirit than the other. Charlie had watched silently, with big eyes. The boy didn’t talk much yet, let alone sing. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he managed a smile for her. He caught Mary’s eye. They regarded each other over the flickering lights. As distant as the ocean. 

“Wish,” Charlie said suddenly. 

“Right, of course,” Stede kept the smile glued to his face. “A wish.” 

“Don’t tell us what it is!” Alma scolded him as if he’d been just about to. “You have to keep a secret.” 

“I will,” he promised. 

He stared at the two flames. The plain white cake. Vanilla icing. Vanilla cake beneath. He much preferred lemon, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever told Mary that. Should he? What was one fact in a sea of the unspoken? 

I wish I had a place where I fit. Even if I had to build it around myself. 

Stede didn’t put much faith in wishes. If anyone had been listening, he had made far more desperate ones and a far more tender age and they certainly hadn’t been granted then. But it did feel oddly auspicious that the phone rang in the wee hours of the morning. Mary groaned, curling tighter in on herself under the covers as he picked it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Stede,” that was his father’s wife’s voice. He barely knew the woman, but was unmistakably soft-spoken. So thready that it was often lost during their rare visits entirely. “I’m so sorry. It’s your father.” 

“What’s he done?” Stede sat up, imagining any number of horrors. 

“Died!” She wailed. 

“I see,” he said faintly. 

And as she told him the whole horrible tale, Stede tried very hard not to smile.

It wound up being a very happy birthday after all. 

Izzy  

He got stabbed. There had been worse birthdays. At least this one came with painkillers. 

Pete  

“And the piece of resistance!” Frenchie plonked a box down in front of him. 

“I thought you knew French,” Pete laughed. 

“I do,” Frenchie sniffed. “When I feel like it. And I don’t right now. Take your present, asshole.” 

“Thanks,” Pete lifted it up. 

“We went in together on it,” John told him. 

John and Frenchie were both on the sagging couch that had taken all three of them to get into the apartment. It was high on Pete’s mental list of ‘to replace’ as the money came in. He was on the lone other seat in the apartment, a precarious folding chair. 

“I figured,” he assured John. He hadn’t really been expecting much at all, so it was cool to get a gift. 

He tore through the newspaper and found a repurposed delivery box inside. Opening that and he pulled out a white rectangle. As he held it, it fluffed up freed of it’s confines. 

“A new pillow!” 

“A good one,” John nodded. “We know you’ve been getting a sore neck.” 

“Because you told us. Repeatedly,” Frenchie sniffed. “So. Pillow. It’s supposed to be good for side sleepers.”

“Aw, man, thank you!” He squished it to his chest. “That’s great!” 

“I know it’s not very big, but we’ve got a cake,” John offered. 

“It is big,” Pete told him seriously. 

Last year, everything had been in flux and Pete hadn’t really wanted to acknowledge his birthday anyway. There were things he’d expected to be when he was forty, and broke, parked in Buttons’ house with two ex-co-workers were not any of them. 

But the past year had been one of the happiest of his adult life as it turned out. Who cared if it wasn’t flashy? He had friends, who cared about his neck even if he did complain about it too much, and a job that was kind of okay. No one bothered him much at least. 

“You want the cake then?” Frenchie asked. “We got candles.” 

“Yes, let’s do that.” 

They had cake for dinner. It was a supermarket special, vanilla with a thick chocolate filling. It left him heavy and sluggish, perfect for watching a movie, crowded on the couch with both of them.  

Oluwande  

“I love you so much!” Oluwande told Jim. 

“I know,” they were laughing at him, but that was okay. Jim had a great laugh. 

And Oluwande was maybe a little drunk. 

“You’re the best partner,” he gushed. 

“Oh, I know,” they nodded. 

“I am very drunk.” 

“Ooooh yeah.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

“Nope.” 

“That seems unfair,” he decided. “Why aren’t you drunk?” 

“Because this is way more fun,” they leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Why am I drunk?” he asked, which seemed more pertinent. 

“Cause you’re a lightweight,” Roach sat down on his other side, holding out a glass of water. “And you insisted you could keep up with me. Spoiler alert: you cannot.” 

“I could,” Oluwande said firmly, taking the water when it was pushed into his hand. 

“You can’t,” Jim told him like they were informing him of a grave injury. 

“No?” 

“No.” 

“Damn. Are we done drinking?” 

“You are.” 

“Okay,” that seemed wise, actually. Things were a little blurry. “Can I have another piece of pie?” 

“Your funeral,” Roach decreed and then there was pie. It smelled amazing. Fuck cake, truly. 

“Please don’t fuck a cake,” Frenchie cackled. When had he gotten here? 

“I wouldn’t. Because it sucks,” he decreed and ate a piece of pie. 

“I like cake,” Stede was saying a little wistfully. Was everyone here? Oh. Right. They were. Party. Oluwande gave himself points for recalling his general location. 

“I’ll get you cake,” Eddy assured him. 

“I mean not right now, I’m very full. Excellent spread, Roach, once again.” 

“Yeah, well, Oluwande is more interesting to cook for. He has taste.” 

“Right now, he has pie,” Frenchie was laughing again. “You good, man?” 

“Yes,” Oluwande said earnestly, taking a sip of his water. “Never been better.” 

“I think you’re aging backwards,” Roach gave him a speculative look. “Damn baby face.” 

“I’m a distinguished man of my years,” Oluwande shrugged. “And I’m cute.” 

“He is,” Frenchie agreed. “We all think you’re cute. Like very. Especially right now. You’re selling it. The tiara especially.” 

The tiara and sash that said ‘Birthday Girl’ had been presented to him while he was still dressed as Teal for the night. He had put them back on after he’d de-dragged because fuck it. He was the Birthday Girl. 

“Happy birthday, Olu,” Jim rested their chin on his shoulder. It was kind of pointy, but he liked that. He pressed his cheek to theirs. 

“Thanks. For everything.” 

“Always,” they slid and arm around him. 

Lucius 

“You want a cake?” Pete asked.  “Nontraditional. No candles. Just sweet goodness.” 

“Not really,” Lucius set down his stylus with a sigh. “I’d really prefer just to pretend it’s not happening at all. Per usual. Please.” 

“Okay,” Pete slid his arm around him, pressed a kiss to his temple. “Would you like, entirely unrelated to any particular day, to go see that immersive Van Gogh thing you keep calling ‘horribly tacky and overpriced’, if I happened to buy some tacky, overpriced tickets?” 

Lucius repressed a smile, “Why would you do such a thing if you knew I thought it was tacky and overpriced?” 

“Because you sometimes love tacky and overpriced and I want to see the pretty pictures. And make you explain them to me.” 

“Fine,” Lucius pretended to be aggrieved. “For your sake. When?” 

“Got ‘em for Wednesday. Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” he brought Pete’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thanks.” 

Later that afternoon, Frenchie brought in the mail. There was a small package for Lucius which he presented him without fanfare. It was from some bland company, return address vague. 

“I didn’t order anything,” he frowned, but opened it.  Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back, after all. 

There was a small, but lush box inside, matte black. He drew that out. It felt familiar somehow though he couldn’t pin it down. It had a hinge, so he opened it and was rewarded. A bracelet sat inside, a very thin leather one in his favorite shade of red. Embossed in the center was the image of a key, filled with black resin so it caught the light. 

“Oh you asshole,” Lucius laughed and drew it out. 

Lucius: I said no presents. 

Izzy: coincidence. Ordered it weeks ago, no idea when it would ship. 

Lucius: Liar. I love it. What’s the key for? 

Izzy: cuff isn’t actually locked, doesn’t need a real key. 

Lucius stared at the message, then at the bracelet. He picked it up and put it on, a difficult business one handed. It was unobtrusive, less eye-catching than the thick leather black cuff on Izzy’s wrist. Unlikely someone would even draw a line between one to the other even if they saw them together. 

No one else had to know. Lucius would. Izzy would. 

Lucius: No one would ever believe me if I told them what you were actually like.  

Izzy: good.  

“Happy birthday to me,” Lucius said smugly. 

He’d let their shenanigans pass again this year.  They kept managing to get away with it. Probably wasn’t really teaching the right lesson. Maybe next year he’d be firmer. 

Maybe.