#ideas down as fast as possible in a haze

[mering]

[always-just-red]

Hi!

Can I request a fic where the reader starts realizing they have feelings for Sylus and gets so nervous around him that they can’t resonate anymore?

And Sylus thinks that the reader is scared/disgusted by him again so the reader is forced to confess their feelings to not create a bigger misunderstanding

Thanks!

- 🌻

The moment I got this request I was like HELLO— sunflower anon, you just get me 😌 Anyway! Am back from my break and I hope everyone’s ready for some Vulnerable Sylus™️, because I have got him hot to go!!!

A Gentle Touch

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You really can’t let Sylus into your head this time— he’s living there rent-free already.

Genre: Angst + Fluff (& some Luke and Kieran shenanigans because they were not feeling the angst)

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, injury detail, mentions of possible trauma, humour, some intimacy at the end 😘, Luke and Kieran are having the time of their lives

| Word count: 3.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

If you asked, Sylus would tell you.

You catch glimpses: dark, sharp flickers of something monstrous, maybe even infernal. Blood, everywhere— thick in your mouth and your nose. All over your hands. You feel it, too: a yearning, so intense, and you couldn’t say whom it belongs to. Then there’s death. Searing white. Bottomless black. In the middle of all of it— crimson eyes like dying stars.

Every time you resonate, it envelops you, is laid out bare before you: a nightmare you’re caught in the centre of but forced to watch from outside. An other, a spectator. It’s a show, just for you, but it isn’t quite ready yet; someone’s still rehearsing their lines.

If you asked, Sylus would let you see it. It’s a power you have over him, a constant, self-sacrificial: you want it? It’s yours. So you don’t ask. You never ask. Like words mumbled in a haze of wine or sleep, you let him hold onto it. His hands are open, yes, but you don’t have to take.  

Besides, you have your own, world-changing little secret, and he’s going to see it too.

He’s slumped in front of you, blood sheeting down from two bullet wounds just below his shoulder. He catches his breath— one, two— before he peeks over this desk you’ve overturned for cover. You should be peeking over as well: should be counting your enemies, scouting your next move.

Instead, you’re looking at him and holding back. One minute ago you had no idea where he was, how he was, and it’d been eating away at you from the moment you got separated. Now he’s with you— he found you— and the relief is desperate, gushing; it has to escape somehow. It drips: forbidden daydreams, one after the other, like…

How you want to hold his face and urge him to speak so you can just hear his voice.

How you want to press a hand to his heart and feel the beat of it beneath your palm.

How you want to kiss him, want to taste the blood on his split lip, because this is your story, isn’t it? Messy. Violent. Defiant.

He looks at you, that same blood carving a thin line through the pale of his chin. It drops down onto his silk shirt. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” he grins. His best guess: “This is a fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, hmm?”

It’s a fine mess he got you into. “Yeah.” You make yourself look away from him, glancing over the desk to assess how much worse the situation is getting. The answer? Significantly. 

Sylus chuckles, drawing your eyes back as he reloads his gun. “Don’t say I never treat you to anything, sweetie.” He fires a few rounds towards the encroaching danger.

Voices go up across the room. Gunshots ring out, louder. Sylus slinks back down, wincing, holding his shoulder, and his fingers turn red. He deftly undoes the first few buttons on his shirt, peeling it back so he can examine his wounds. His jaw clenches; the punctures aren’t closing over fast enough. It’s too much blood, too quick, and he’ll—

He catches you staring. There’s a sheepish sincerity in the way he smiles, as honest and vulnerable as the holes in his shoulder. He holds out his hand. “Time for an energy storm, don’t you think?”

“No,” you snap. “Save your energy. We might need it later.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow perks up in interest, and it’s just like him to spot a double entendre in the midst of all this chaos.

But you’re staring at his chest through his open shirt and you’re such a hypocrite. “Things might get worse,” you explain.

“Worse?” he repeats as bullets fly over your heads, striking the wall across from you and scattering plaster over the floor. He watches it crumble. “Paint me a picture, kitten— what would worse look like?”

Even Rafayel might struggle with that particular creative prompt.

“Come on,” Sylus insists, using the excuse of your silence to push his hand closer to you. “Now’s not the time to play coy.”

“Sylus, I really don’t—”

He grasps your hand, his fingers locking with yours and squeezing tight. Your heart jumps at the touch. It strangles the protests in your throat and stays there, strung up by anticipation and dread.

You’re feeling so much that it takes you too long to realise nothing is happening.

Sylus’s eyes are fixed on your connected palms. He’s squinting, concentrating, and when that doesn’t work— when your hand is paling in the vice of his— he loosens his grip, his thumb feathering over yours as he mumbles a quick: “forgive me.”

He doesn’t let you go. You can still feel him, all of him, imploring to just let him in.

You don’t, and his eyes meet yours, for a moment— like another bullet has bitten through his flesh. Your mouth drops in fake surprise; you’re always so innocent when you pull a trigger on him.

This time, there’s no wound you can push your hands against in a guilty effort to staunch the bleeding. You have to apologise. Have to stitch it up with every word you’ve been guarding, saving, and it isn’t supposed to be like this. “Sylus, it’s not what you think. I—”

Something metal clatters across the floor behind you, bounces like a failing, stuttering heartbeat, then explodes.

…

“Good news, boss! We figured it out!”

Sylus groans, looking up from a report he’s not really been reading as two figures crash into his room. Not good, he thinks, as Kieran flings himself into the nearest armchair. Whatever this is, it’s not good. Luke settles on its arm.

With a sigh, Sylus removes his reading glasses. They stay, hooked on a finger, as he pushes his hair back like he can feel a headache coming on. His eyes flutter closed, and when they open, the twins are both leaning forward, bristling with excitement.

“Ask us,” Luke whispers in a way that makes Sylus think he might not realise he’s speaking out loud.

Another sigh. “What did you figure out?”

Kieran whips out a tired-looking notepad from behind his back. He clears his throat— “ahem!”— then starts to read: “Reasons why Miss Hunter was not able to resonate with you. Number one...”

“How did you find out about—”

“Sshhhh,” Kieran interrupts, putting a finger to where his lips should be. Sylus’s eyes widen in indignation, and Luke comes to his twin’s rescue, silently indicating Mephisto with a few tips of his head. The crow shrinks down on his perch.

“Number one,” Kieran repeats, matter-of-factly. “Your height.”

“My… height?”

Luke nods solemnly as Kieran continues: “humanityandconquer.com/power-dynamics describes tallness as a ‘natural advantage when trying to dominate a smaller individual.’ You are very tall. Try crouching when you speak to Miss Hunter.” He glances over the top of his notepad. “If you approach her at her level, she’ll know you mean no—”

“Nope. Next,” Sylus dismisses, waving his hand in a fast-forward motion. That headache is coming on.

“Reason two,” Kieran acquiesces, gaze falling, “your eyes.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake—”

“They’re red,” the twin pushes on, “and red means danger. In fiction, red eyes are symony—” he stops, spells it out— “synonymous with the supernatural. Vampires especially. Plus, lots of bad stuff is red.” He’s going off-script. “Blood. Fire. Sunburns.”

“Sunburns are pink,” Luke muses.

“No, like, bad sunburns, y’know?”

“Oh right, yeah.” There’s a shrug of agreement.

Sylus’s will to live is hanging by a thread, and they really don’t have a care in the world, do they? It must be nice. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “for your little investigation. If that’s all, I would—”

“Reason three!” Luke chirps, wiggling the same number of fingers, and Sylus’s head lolls back against the sofa.

“Miss Hunter is struggling to separate this version of you from your first impression,” Kieran says.

Sylus looks up. “What?”

Luke is rubbing his hands together eagerly, like they’ve finally gotten to the good stuff. “Well, you remember how you and Miss Hunter met,” his twin explains.

Words won’t do it justice, apparently, because the man begins to act it out. He reaches to grip Luke by the throat and Luke pretends to choke, fingers clawing at the grasp. Then Kieran stands up— throws Luke down into the chair and pins him there with his foot before snatching up his hand.

“See what I mean?” Kieran asks over his shoulder. “I mean, it must have been pretty traumatic. You kinda tore her away from everything she knew. Forced her to use her power, et cetera, et cetera.”

Sylus has gone quiet. He’s vaguely aware that the twins are moving, saying more, but he can’t hear it. He feels sick. Then he feels something different: someone poking at his arm. A hand is waved in front of his face, but he doesn’t react.

“Oh, we so got it,” Luke whispers conspiratorially behind him.

“Hell yeah we did!” Kieran whispers back.

There’s the sound of them high-fiving, and it spurs Sylus into action. He’s up out of his seat, out of their shadows, and then the door as well— long before they can stop him. He needs to breathe. He needs the cold night air and the quiet, and his strides drive him towards it, but not fast enough.

He’s about to use his Evol. To let himself evaporate so he can be whole again somewhere else, somewhere easier, but then he stops. He’s by an open door, glancing in at a decadent living room, where you’re sprawled over a black leather couch. This isn’t easier. This hurts, and it hurts more as he forces himself to close the distance between you.

You’re still asleep. You’ve been unconscious ever since that grenade went off, and it’s for the best, really; getting out of that place was… messy. Sylus’s shoulder still aches, the blood on his shirt now crusty and dark. Some of it’s his. Some of it’s yours.

He’s not sure why he’s still wearing it.

The twins did a pretty good job of patching you up, but— looking over you— he would have done better. It was his role, after all. His duty to you, or maybe just a reason to get close to you. He couldn’t do it today. Couldn’t touch you, no matter how noble the intention. And a little part of him was glad for the excuse; his hands always shake.

A blanket is half on your legs, half on the floor, and Sylus stoops to collect the edge of it. He draws it over your shoulder, adjusting it around your arms— at rest by your face. He’s close, now, and he…

He can’t help himself. When has he ever been able to help himself? He lifts his hand slowly; he wants to kiss you. Even though your blood is still drying on his shirt and it’s all his fault.

…

Someone’s hand is on your face.

The touch draws you back into consciousness, tender, careful, then suddenly sharp. “Ah,” you hiss. “Sylus?” Always first on your mind and your lips.

“Not even close,” quips the shadow above you.

“Kieran?”

“Bingo.”  

You use your hand to block some of the room’s light as you open your eyes— a birdlike silhouette taking shape through the gaps in your fingers. “Where’s Sylus?” you ask, teeth clenching as the twin applies a thin strip of surgical tape to a cut on your cheek. “Is he ok?”

“Sheesh, relax. He’s fine,” Kieran tuts, then seems to reconsider, “well…”

“He’s brooding,” chimes a voice from behind you. “Out on the balcony.” Luke.

You rub at your eyes, still drowsy with sleep. “Why’s he brooding? What did you do?”

“Told him he traumatised you,” they speak in unison.

“What?! Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true,” Kieran shrugs. “That’s why you and boss couldn’t, you know…” He twinkles his fingers.

Resonate? Ugh. You slide your feet onto the floor, sitting up straight for a solid second before you bury your face in your hands, omitting a few, pained whines. This is such a mess, and it only got worse while you were asleep. First that stupid grenade, now the twins.

A hand pats at your back. “There, there,” Luke soothes.

You turn to glare at him. His hand retreats.

Forget it; you have to find Sylus.

…

You step out onto the balcony, head full of apologies you’ve had all of a minute to prepare, and it isn’t enough. It felt fitting, in the middle of a shootout— everything was allowed to be frantic and from the heart. Here it’s calm, and if you ruin something— break anything— it’s going to be obvious. There’s no other violence to blame.

Sylus must hear you join him, but he doesn’t turn. He’s leant forwards against the rail, one arm folded upon it, the other outstretched: sporting a glass of liquor that hangs from the tips of his fingers and that he swirls gently, his gaze far away.

The twins really weren’t kidding.

“Hey,” you greet, and it’s sort of pathetic, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” Sylus returns, “are you—” he looks back at you over his shoulder— “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “I mean, the twins are giving me a headache, but that’s, like, standard.”  

He smiles back: a courtesy. You’ve seen him grin through almost every type of pain imaginable, but this one is new. Think about what Luke and Kieran said. What he must be thinking. “Sylus, I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he stops you, turning his body towards you. “Honestly, I’d… rather you didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he chuckles, masking a deeper hurt as he lifts his glass to his lips. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You are; you hold his gaze as he takes a deliberately slow sip of his drink. He smirks, surrenders at once and admits: “I’m really not that strong, sweetie. That’s why.”

“What if I want to explain?”

The smirk falters, and his eyes make their own, sad, silent confession. If you want to explain? He’ll let you. He’ll stand here, listening patiently while you call him a thing of nightmares. While you break him, bit by tortuous bit, by reminding him just how frightening he is.

He turns back to the view, shrugs, but none of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Go on, then.”

“Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t scare me, you know.”

His hand tightens around his glass. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pity me,” he grimaces. “I don’t need it. I know what I am. I’d just… forgotten what I was to you.”

Your captor. Your monster. Except that was a lifetime ago and he’s been so many more things to you since then. Tell him. “Sylus…”

“I felt it,” he snaps, because your voice is still so reluctant, and he’s going to save you the trouble. “When we tried to resonate, I felt it— your fear— just as deep as it used to be. I heard that same voice in your head, the one saying you wouldn’t let me in, couldn’t let me in, so don’t tell me I don’t scare you, sweetie.” The term of endearment tastes sour, you can tell. “I know how you feel. I know—”

“I like you, Sylus.”

“…What?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “I like you,” you say again, and your heart is beating too quickly for eloquence, so you just have simplicity. “You don’t scare me at all, Sy. I care about you. A lot.”

Sylus stares at you, his eyes wide. There’s no confidence. No smile or drawn-out breath of relief. He sets his glass aside on the railing, gaze leaving yours for a moment, and you get the feeling he needs that moment as much as he needed the drink itself.

Then he looks at you again. Asks in a way that makes you ache: “do you mean it?”

Look at him. Your throat stings. “Of course I mean it.”

“Say it again.”

“I mean it, Sylus. I care about—”

His lips are on yours and the rest of your words are lost in his mouth. You, you say with the way you kiss him back, soft and slow, like you’re relishing something that might slip away. You, you insist— your hand finding his face, his hair, as he kisses you deeper, and you, you, you, when he doesn’t stop.

“Is this alright?” he murmurs, his fingers around your chin and his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

“Mmm,” you confirm, equally breathless.

He laughs as he withdraws a little, still caressing your face like you’re something of a dream. “You’re not making this easy, kitten.”

“Worried you might traumatise me again?”    

It's a low blow. He scoffs. “Luke and Kieran said—”

“Luke and Kieran once bought arts-and-crafts feathers for Mephisto because they thought the colours would make him, and I quote: more aerodynamic.” You pinch his ear playfully. “I can’t believe you let them get to you.”

“I know,” he groans, lifting your hand so he can press chaste kisses along the line of your knuckles. “Not my finest moment.” He guides your palm to his cheek— leans into it as he leans into an idea. “They said you hated my eyes,” he pouts.

You can’t help giggling. He frowns. “I mean— aww, no,” you scramble, but you’re still laughing. You can’t stop. “Your eyes are… yeah. So pretty.”

“You had to think about it?”

“There were just too many adjectives, y’know? I was struggling to—”

He kisses you again, saving you: crushing your laughter with his own, lightheaded smile. His hand finds yours as his lips move against you, your fingers interlocking as you resonate— chasing an instinct, a need to be impossibly closer— and you let him see everything. Feel everything.

It’s a mad tangle of opposites. Heaven. Hell. Life. Death. You don’t know what any of it means, but it’s yours and it’s his and it doesn’t scare you half as much as it should. Sylus breaks your kiss. He pushes his forehead against your own with a sigh of contentment, and it doesn’t scare him, either.  

Savour each second. Think of some better adjectives, while you still have the time.

He’s going to earn every single one.

…

✨Epilogue✨

Inside, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that separate the room from the balcony, Luke and Kieran stand, looking awfully smug.   

“Mission accomplished,” Kieran nods, flipping closed his notepad, aptly titled: 101 Ways To Get Boss Laid! (There are only, currently, fifty-two.)

Luke’s arms are folded. “We’re like, the best wingmen ever.”

Kieran is silent. He repeats carefully: “Wingmen. Wingmen.”

The beaks of the crow masks gradually turn to face one-another. There’s a mutual epiphany, and both twins almost fall over laughing.

[dollfacefantasy]

second thoughts ♡

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

your ex keeps popping into your head during sex with toji, so he'll just have to make sure you can't think at all instead

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, size kink, dumbification, mentions of intrusive thoughts

tags: @gor3-hound @nexysworld

"Right here," he growls, "Look right here. Right in my fuckin' eyes."

His large hand held your head in place by your jaw. He gives it a sharp jerk, jostling your thoughts into place. Making sure you're completely focused on him. His lower half thrusts against you hard and fast, stretching you out with each rock of his hips.

"'m lookin'" you whine, your lips parting as little mewls fly out.

"Good. Good girl," he grunts.

The muscles in his abdomen flex as he keeps pounding into you. He wasn't taking it easy on you tonight. He was determine to make sure you couldn't think of anything but him.

The past couple of weeks things had been off between you two. Since you started dating, your relationship had always been very physical. You had sex once a day at minimum, and when he wasn't inside of you, he had a hand somewhere on your body. He may have struggled with true intimacy, but physicality came easy.

The problem he'd noticed recently was you didn't seem as into it as you usually were. You seemed kind of spaced out. You got pretty quiet when you were typically vocal.

His first reaction was insecurity. Was he not pleasing you? Were growing bored of him? The possibility of that unnerved him to his core, but he tried to convince himself those couldn't be true. You never denied him when he initiated, and you still loved to cuddle and hang off his arm whenever you could.

After another round of you looking distracted while he was balls deep, he finally just had to ask.

"Sorry..." you'd said, looking up at him sheepishly, "I just... I'm having trouble focusing."

Your tone almost made him feel guilty for asking, but your reasoning didn't answer all his questions. He knew you had trouble with concentration and intrusive thoughts sometimes. He just didn't think it would apply to this.

"Focusing?" he murmured, ducking down to plant some kisses on your cheek, "Am I not doing it right, baby? You know... I'm open to pointers."

"No... it's not that. It's just..." you continue. You hesitate as to whether or not you should actually tell him.

"C'mon, angel face," he said, nuzzling your jaw, "You know you can tell me. I want you to feel good too."

"You do make me feel good," you reassured, "It's just that I can't get my brain to be quiet. And when we're doing it, I keep thinking of my ex boyfriend, and it doesn't feel good. I don't like him at all, it's just like my mind wants to bug me."

Even though the idea of you thinking about another man during sex causes jealousy to flare within him, he reins in the instinctive anger he feels. By the pained look on your face, you clearly were just as displeased with it as he was. And while it hadn't happened in a while, he couldn't pretend like he'd never had his late wife dance through his thoughts in the heat of the moment.

So he didn't make you feel bad about it. He sighed and told you it was ok. You wanted to finish though and so he got you both to finish. He held you after like always and let you fall asleep against his side, but in his own mind, he planned for things would be different next time. There was no way he was gonna let some other guy keep you from enjoying yourself with him.

That's what led the both of you to now. He keeps your gaze locked with his own as fills you to the brim. Your eyes are glossy but with the haze of pleasure now rather than distraction, and he can't enough of it.

"That's right, babydoll. It's all me now, isn't it?" he coos lowly in your ear.

"Mhm," you whimper and nod, your head bobbing extra from his momentum.

"No room for anyone else," he grunts and digs his fingers into the plush of your cheeks.

Your lips puff out under the pressure, and he leans down to mash his mouth against your own. The kiss is wet and sloppy, your saliva and his mixing together while he nips at your bottom lip. He ruts into you faster, his breaths growing more ragged.

"Fuck.. Toji," you whimper arching your back and pressing your tits up against his chest.

"That's all you're gonna be able to say when I'm done with you, sweet thing," he says.

You whine and nod. That was what you wanted. Just him. If he was the only thing on your mind, you were happy. A big, dazed smile drifts to your features to match your fucked out eyes.

"That's a biiiiig smile, princess," he coos mockingly, "Who's making you smile like that?"

"You are," you whimper.

"Right. No one else can make you smile like that," he says.

You nod again and yelp when his cock rams into a sweet spot inside you. He chuckles at the sound and lifts his hands to rest above your head, caging your body below his.

"My baby. You're all mine. Mine to fuck dumb every. single. night," he pants.

"Don't want anyone else. Just you," you babble and drag your nails down his back.

"I know it," he says.

He then quickly reaches down, securing your hips with an iron grip and fucks into you as deep as possible. You see stars stars and let out a sound you can't control. You tighten around him like a vise, keeping him nice and deep where you need him.

"My Toji," you slur and bring your own hands back up to slide through his hair.

He moans quietly, and his eyes flutter shut. His hips sputter a bit as he feels his release creeping up on him.

"Gonna cum soon, dollface. Get you nice and full of me so even when I pull out, you know who that pussy belongs to," he mumbles.

You mewl in ecstasy, eager to feel him shoot deep inside you.

It doesn't take long for you to get your wish. His body lowers against yours, his flushed, sweaty skin sliding against your flesh. He pumps into you desperately with a groan as he drains himself between your tight, velvety walls.

He lets it all sink inside you before pulling out. His cock is still slick with your arousal. He leans back and pushes your thighs up, taking a look at your pussy stuffed full of his cum. Just how it should be.

Up top, you were still blissed out. He huffs out a laugh at your drooping eyes and contented expression.

"How you feeling, baby?" he asks and crawls back on top of you to give you some lazy smooches.

You hum and rub your nose against his cheek. Words were too hard right now in the best way.

He smirks and nips at your nose teasingly.

"Head all clear?" he whispers.

"Mhm," you say with satisfaction, opening your eyes wider and taking in the face of the man who had you now, mind and body.

[brairslair]

(i debated whether or not to ask this anonymously)

so yknow how eddie has a W.A.S.P pin on his vest? can you plz write an eddieXreader scene inspired by their song

Animal (F*** Like A Beast) ?

😅😊

i absolutely love this reqqq, tysm for letting me run with this! hope you like how it turned out @nerdyhooker

Like an Animal - E.M.

18+ ONLY (minors please dni)

a/n: finally figured out an idea i liked for this, and i think it turned out pretty good! although i may have gotten a bit carried away lmao. not sure if this is as rough as you might have had in mind, but i tried to pull as much from the lyrics as possible! i hope you like what i ended up with <3

wc: 5.8k

cw: eventual smut, fem!reader, bartender!eddie + english teacher!reader, kinda fuckboy eddie vibes?, enemies to lovers vibes, light bondage (handcuffsss), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not do this), oral (fem receiving), pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey, baby), technically drinking and driving, smoking (cigs + i don’t smoke so idfk what i’m talking about), brat reader but she gets super subby, kinda mean but soft dom eddie?, light dacryphilia, these idiots have been head over heels for each other since high school and neither of them knew it bc they’re stupid and stubborn, extremely vague mention of aftercare, not proof read, lmk if i missed anything!

don’t forget to like, reblog, follow, and comment to support my work! it always makes my day, mwah

“well if it isn’t the little princess”

Just like that, nine months down the drain. You massage your temples as you recall the past few days. The countless arguments between you and your, now ex, boyfriend form a persistent migraine between your eyes.

In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming. Your relationship had been rocky for months, but you were so busy with other obligations that you hadn’t had the time to confront any of it head on. Fortunately for you, he was more than willing to step up to the plate.

You wouldn’t let yourself admit it out loud, but you almost felt relieved with his absence in your small apartment. That was until you remembered the loss of his half of the rent.

Everything happened so fast, it was hard to process any of it. It all felt like it was swirling around and around too quickly for you to pick any one thing out. Your solution? Alchohol.

You grabbed your keys and hopped into your polished, clean, mint green beetle, setting off for the local dive bar. You could only recall one other time you had been to the small bar, having been dragged there by colleagues in the name of “bonding” after a particularly long day at work.

Drinking wasn’t something you did often, reserving a glass of wine for holidays and special events. Tonight, you decided you needed to make an exception.

As you parked and stepped out of your car, you felt nerves twist in your gut. The place was undoubtedly busy, which wasn’t shocking for a Friday night. People were smoking and talking out front, and you couldn’t help but notice how out of place you must’ve looked.

A knee length grey skirt fell loosely over your hips, paired with a rose colored, ruffled blouse, and a pearl necklace with matching earrings to top it off. Not a single tattoo in sight, and certainly no cigarette in hand. Your heels clicked against the pavement, smoothing down your skirt as you made your way inside.

The second you enter, you’re hit with a haze of smoke and the overwhelming smell of alchohol, nicotine, and sweat. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before you head for the bar.

You shuffle your way over to an empty stool at the front and take a seat, plopping your beaded purse on the counter. As you wait for the bartender to make their way to you, you take a better look at your surroundings. The place felt oddly cozy for being in such a frumpy looking building, and a band was playing some sort of aggressive rock song you had never heard before. Despite it being a little too loud, and a little too cluttered, you were already starting to relax a little.

“Hey there, what can I get for ya?”

You whip your head around at the voice, and your stomach instantly falls into your shoes. It would be impossible not to recognize the dark mop of curls that you got so used to seeing bouncing about the halls you shared all those years ago.

Although now it was pulled back into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, loose curls falling around his face. You’d hate to admit it, but he looked really nice.

“Well if it isn’t the little princess.” he laughs, and you feel your fists clench at the old nickname. “Didn’t think this was really your scene.”

“Well that would be a correct assumption, Munson.” you bite, bouncing back from the initial shock, “Unfortunately, it was the closest bar to my apartment, and I wasn’t in the mood to drive across town.”

Your grumbling makes you feel like a petulant child with a grudge, but you can’t help it. Eddie just always has getting on your nerves.

“I didn’t know you worked here, or I would have made the sacrifice.”

Eddie smiles his big, toothy, infuriatingly smug smile, and shakes his head, “You haven’t changed one bit, huh princess?”

“Don’t call me that.” you demand through gritted teeth, holding on to every ounce of restraint you have not to scream at him to just get you a drink.

He leans forward on the counter with a lopsided, goofy sort of expression, invading your space and ignoring your little outburst. “So what brings you in here tonight, princess? Boy troubles?” he mocks with a pouty tone.

You glare daggers into his skull, and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head. “Just a beer will do.”

He gives a small salute before leaving to get you your drink of choice.

The rest of the night is spent drinking, wallowing, and actively avoiding any and all interactions with the familiar bartender. The minimal interaction you did have involved him pushing every button in sight, and you fighting to maintain an ounce of self control.

Any time your eyes made their way over to him, of their own volition, his eyes were already on you. He had this look, like he knew something you didn’t, and it infuriated you. Oh how you hated him.

It had always been this way, ever since high school. He made it his mission to push you to your limit, and you always had to one up him somehow. It became almost like a game. You weren’t surprised to see he hadn’t changed after all this time. It was almost comforting in way, if you thought about it long enough.

As the night went on, the activity slowly started dying down, and the atmosphere got quieter. You were on your second beer of the night, trying to let the cold liquid take the edge off. Even still, you felt your fingers tap against the counter with anxiety.

How could he leave you to fend for yourself at the drop of a hat? After nine months? Did your relationship hold that little of value? How were you supposed to afford next quarter’s rent? There’s no way you could afford to live in your current apartment. You would have to move. How would you find somewhere decent to stay in such a short amount of time? You were screwed.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re gettin’ ready to close up.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up to see the one person you wanted to see the least right now. His expression was soft. Softer than you’ve ever seen it aimed in your direction. It made you want to dig your nails into his skin.

“You alright?”

The question takes you aback, your brows furrow at the uncharacteristic behavior. “Fine, thanks.” you mumble, taking another gulp of your drink.

He looks at you with what can only be described as sympathy, and you feel your chest tighten. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You mull over the words for a moment. The answer should be so simple. You don’t smoke. In fact, you’ve never smoked once in your life. Why would you ever agree to smoke with him of all people?

But then his hand is outstretched across the bar for you to take a cigarette, and his eyes look so… kind? You’ve never thought of that word to describe him before. Maybe it was the alchohol, or maybe he put some sort of curse on you, because suddenly you’re taking the cigarette and following him out front.

You can’t help but watch as his thumb flicks at the lighter, putting it up to your lips before bringing it to his own. You follow his lead inhaling the smoke, and then you’re instantly coughing and spluttering it back out of your lungs.

He laughs lightly as he cooly blows the smoke to the side to avoid getting it in your face. “I take it you’ve never smoked before? If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, Munson.” you spit out, face heating up with embarrassment as you make another attempt, ignoring the burning in your throat.

It’s silent for a while, before anyone decides to break it.

“So,” he starts, “You a big time writer now?” he asks, staring at the pavement.

He remembered you wanted to be a writer? You didn’t even think he knew that about you. “English teacher, actually. Hawkins High.”

He looks at you then, dropping the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “You stuck around that hell hole? No wonder you’ve still got that stick up your ass.”

You scoff bitterly, “Well I guess some of us are more academically inclined than others.” you glare, “I actually enjoy my job, shocking as that may be to you.”

“I'm sure you do, sweetheart.” Eddie replies smugly, causing you to grit your teeth as he leans against the brick wall of the building. "Gettin' to boss people around all day must be a dream come true for you." The parking lot is almost completely empty at this point.

Of course his civility was just a calm before the storm. You mentally pinch yourself for your momentary lapse of judgement. “God, you are such a-“

“Comedian? Kind soul? Sight for sore eyes?” he offers dramatically, eyes twinkling at your grimace.

“I was going for obnoxious, conceited, prick.” You hiss, stomping out your cigarette, “and I do not have a stick up my ass!” you shout, turning on your heel to leave.

Eddie rushes to catch up to you, laughing boyishly in a way that makes you speed up. “Aw come on, princess, don’t be like that. I was just teasing.”

“I said not to call me that-” You whip around to face him, and suddenly you’re practically chest to chest, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You’re so close you wonder if he can feel your heart racing behind your ribs.

Then he’s looking at you with that look. The one that makes your insides bubble over with fury. The one that makes you feel like he knows some sort of deep secret about you. It makes you want to slap him in his smug face. Yet, for some reason, you can’t seem to look away from his gaze.

Finally, you pull yourself away, and march over to your car. Just as you open your door, you hear a retreating shout of, “Next drink’s on me, princess!” and then you’re out of there faster than you can process your heaving chest and shaky hands.

After that, you somehow end up back in that same bar every Friday. Some sort of force, unbeknownst to you, seemed to draw you in like a magnet. As promised, the next drink was on him… and the next, and the next, no matter how many times you tried to refuse.

No matter how much you tried to talk yourself out of it, you always ended up sitting on the same stool, at the same time, with the same drink in your hand. Every week, without fail, you would leave the bar a fuming, heated mess with only one thing on your mind. Eddie fucking Munson.

This week in particular was different. You were absolutely swamped with assignments that needed to be graded, and you spent all of Thursday night and Friday working on getting them done.

It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you noticed the hiccup in your routine, and for some reason it made you sad. It wasn’t like you were obligated to go every weekend, but a part of you had grown to enjoy your Friday nights at the bar. Then some sick, twisted part of you wondered if he had noticed your absence, but you shoved the thought away as soon as it surfaced.

As the day went on, you convinced yourself it wouldn’t hurt to just go tonight instead. After all it was a Saturday night, and you had already cleared your workload for the week, so it’s not like there was any real harm in it.

Alternatively, it was a Saturday night. Eddie’s band performed Saturday nights. You didn’t want him to think you were there to see him, because you most certainly were not. You just didn’t want to miss out on your weekly drink, that’s all. Nothing more.

Still, it was a Saturday night. It would do you some good to look a little nicer, right?

You start to regret it the second you park your car. The shift in the air is blatantly obvious as you enter walk towards the crowded space. Men out front whistle at you as you walk to the door, and you can feel eyes practically digging into your skin as u head for your usual seat at the bar. Your leg bounces with nerves at the attention. You've never worn this dress before. Never had a reason to. You don't allow yourself to wonder why you chose to wear it tonight.

You ask the bartender for a long island iced tea, and catch yourself checking the small stage in the back of the room. You internally scold yourself and glue your eyes to your drink.

It isn’t long before cheers are heard around the bar, pulling your attention up to see Corroded Coffin walking out on stage.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?” Eddie’s voice booms out of the speakers, causing people to whoop and holler in reply. You feel your leg begin to bounce.

He continues talking to the small crowd while his band finishes setting up, and you can’t stop yourself from ogling at him. You desperately want to pull your eyes away, to look at anything else, but you can’t.

He’s wearing an old band t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off his arms, chest, and a sliver of his waist. Your eyes trail across the exposed skin, noticing he has quite a few new tattoos littering it, and your stomach twists. He has leather and chain bracelets decorating his wrists, curls falling wildly around his face, and you notice light bouncing off of his signature rings still adorning his fingers. You definitely don’t remember him looking like this in high school.

As he moves around the stage it’s abundantly clear how confident he is up there. His stage presence is truly impressive, and his voice is really something. It's gotten deeper since the last time you heard it. You subconsciously wet your lips as you watch his fingers move around the neck of his guitar. He’s come a long way since the last time you saw him perform. You can’t help but smile as you watch him in his element.

Then the smile is wiped clean off of your face when he makes direct eye contact with you from across the bar. You freeze, feeling like you suddenly have shards of glass lodged in your throat. Has he known you’ve been sitting here the whole time? If he saw you smiling you might have to run into oncoming traffic.

Then you notice what he’s singing.

“I'm on the prowl and I watch you closely I lie waiting for you I'm the wolf with the sheepskins clothing I lick my chops and you're tastin' good”

Your stomach flips and you can feel your whole body heating up. Something tells you he notices too, which makes it a million times worse. What the hell is wrong with you?

“I do whatever I want to do ya I'll nail your ass to the sheets A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya I fuck like a beast”

You shift in your seat, the eye contact becoming far too overwhelming. You opt to look down at your lap for the remainder of the song to prevent yourself from doing something embarrassing.

Soon enough the set is over, and the band starts breaking down their set up. You’re so deep in your own thoughts by the end of it that you fail to notice the man approaching you, until his arms are caging you against the bar.

“Well hello there, pretty lady.” You gasp at the familiar voice speaking directly into your ear, feeling his shirt graze your back. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He beams down at you, watching you huff and roll your eyes as you turn to face him. Your fingers wriggle with the efforts not to hit him.

“It was an impulsive decision.” You mutter quietly, eyes briefly darting to his toned arm beside you before snapping back to his face, “I didn’t come yesterday.” You concede, unsure of what else to say.

He smiles, seemingly amused. “I know. Your seat was empty all night.” he says lowly, face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s pushing off of the counter to head back behind the bar and help clean up.

So he did notice. Did he miss you? Was he saving your seat, or is it just a coincidence?

You feel dizzy with a million questions. Why did you let him get so close? Why were you going to let him kiss you? Why does he look so good. Why do you care so much? You should have said something, anything.

You finish your drink in silence, watching Eddie as he flits around tidying up the place, and then the bar is closing. You feel your gut twist at the thought of going home, and you don’t quite understand why, but you blame the alchohol.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie jogs up to you as you grab your purse, arm outstretched and offering a cigarette. His hair falls prettily around his shoulders, and you only now notice that he takes much better care of his curls now than he did in high school.

“Care for a smoke?”

His charm must be cranked up to 100 tonight, because, once again, you agree with less hesitation than you would have liked.

You stand out front, Eddie waving goodnight to Garret as he heads to his car, and you watch as the last car whirs out of the lot. Then you are alone. Just you and Eddie. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“How’d you like the show?” he asks, exhaling a puff of smoke in the process.

You handle the burn better this time, holding back a cough from erupting as you take a drag. “It was… good.” You say hesitantly.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, “Just good? Wow, then we really need to get our shit together if we're gonna-“

“You were amazing.” You blurt out, unsure of why you felt the need to boost his ego. You clear your throat before amending your statement, “It… The show was amazing.”

Eddie hums in satisfaction, smile tugging at the corners of his lips around his cig. “You know, you didn’t have to dress all fancy for lil ol’ me.”

You wore a tight, low-backed, black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, sheer black stockings, black boots, and some dainty silver jewelry. Nothing too crazy, but definitely much different from how you would normally dress. Admittedly, you felt a little self conscious.

“Well good thing I didn’t dress fancy for you.” You huff, starting to feel a little silly for trying so hard to fit in. God, did he always have to be so cocky?

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” He starts, pushing off the wall to step towards you. “You look fucking incredible. Of course, you always look incredible.”

Smug bastard.

“Thank you.” You feel yourself flushing at the words, immediately getting sick to your stomach at how much you care what Eddie Munson thinks about how you look. “Glad I got your seal of approval.” You quip sarcastically, desperately trying to pick a fight. Anything to stop you from feeling whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.

Why did he always find a way to get under your skin? No one else makes you feel as utterly frustrated as he does.

He’s absolutely unbearable.

You force down another inhale of smoke as you watch Eddie slowly make his way closer to you. The way he’s looking at you makes your mouth go dry. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it’s driving you up the wall.

“You know, you don’t always have to be such a brat.” He exhales casually, pausing in front of you. Your heart stops. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me every once in a while.”

“It might.” You rasp out curtly, just now realizing how out of breath you suddenly feel.

He laughs, and the sound makes your insides flip.

“You have such a big fat crush on me, don’t you sweetheart?” He smiles down at you wolfishly, and it almost makes you shrink under his stare. You suddenly are acutely aware of your surroundings.

You scoff and cross your arms defensively, “I most certainly do not have a crush on you, Munson.” You spit out venomously. How dare he even suggest such a thing? It couldn’t be farther from the truth. You loathe him.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, taking a stride closer to you, making you step backwards.

“Think I don’t notice how you stare at me? How you sit up a little straighter when you see me?”

Your back hits the wall.

“You aren’t subtle, princess.”

You feel like a fucking deer in headlights.

“Staring and glaring are two very different things.” You pant, desperately searching for oxygen. Anger burns in your throat at his absolute audacity, and your skin feels like it's buzzing.

“Is that so?”

You can feel his chest press into you as the brick digs into your shoulders. He takes a long inhale of smoke, and your head is screaming at you to push him off of you and curse him the whole way home, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as he grabs your chin, and then, unexpectedly, he‘s pulling your jaw down to part your lips. All you can do is stare at him and his cocky fucking smile at your compliance. You feel like you’re in a trance.

Before you can even think, his lips are pressed against yours and pushing smoke past your lips. You gasp at the contact, effectively inhaling the smoke and sighing against his lips. Your brain short circuits and goes completely numb. His lips feel like the cure to a disease you've been plagued with for years.

For a moment, you almost forget who you’re with, until he pulls back to look at you.

“Well if you hate me so much, then why are you squeezing your thighs together?”

You immediately rip your legs apart, not even realizing what you were doing until it was too late. You can feel steam pouring out of your ears at this point.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

He’s right. For some reason, you do love it. Something about him makes you crave more, and you’re starting to believe he may be an incubus. It’s making you go insane.

So you finally wave the white flag.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Munson.”

So he does. Again, and again, and again, until somehow you end up back at Eddie’s trailer with your wrists handcuffed to his bed frame and your clothes thrown around his room.

Hard rock music plays faintly in the distance, and the room smells vaguely of incense and weed. You feel like you've been transported to an alternate dimension.

His lips feel like they’re everywhere. Your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and then he’s leaving sweet little kisses on your tits, making you whine and arch your back towards him.

“Gotta teach you how to let loose, yeah?”

He gently tugs on one of your nipples and you gasp, and Eddie can’t help but laugh as he kisses his way further down your body.

“You’re fucking adorable when you’re not being a pain in the ass, you know that?”

You groan as he spreads your legs open, kissing and biting at your thighs. “Shut up, Eddie.”

“Oh I’m Eddie now?”

Your hips buck up in frustration, glaring down at him with a scowl. It feels like he’s been teasing you for forever. “Eddie” you whine out, “Stop teasing.”

He slowly starts kissing closer to where you need him most, but not quite close enough. “You don’t think you deserve it? Why do you think your wrists are locked up then, sweetheart?”

You wiggle and writhe beneath him, but don’t answer. Eddie moves his face closer to your cunt, and you finally think you’re going to get what you want, and then he blows on your clit. You whimper and clench around nothing, flinching away from him. It's absolutely pathetic, getting so worked up when he’s barely even done anything yet.

“I asked you a question.” Eddie tries again, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your thigh while he waits for a response.

“My wrist’s are locked up because…” You take a deep sigh and force yourself to just spit it out so that he’ll touch you already. “because I was being a brat." you grumble. He’s lucky your wrists are locked up right now, you think.

Eddie kisses your thigh in approval, “That’s right, and bratty girls don’t get to call the shots. Right?”

You huff and pull against your restraints once more, before ultimately complying. “Right.”

You figure it won’t do you any good to act out, especially given your current position.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Eddie grins up at you, before finally leaving a gentle kiss right on your clit.

You throw your head back into the pillows, immediately feeling relief at the small touch. He then runs his tongue up your slit, swirling it nice and slow around your little button, making you sigh and melt into the bed. His curls tickle your thighs where he works diligently.

It quickly becomes apparent that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that makes you wonder how many other women have been in this exact same position. The thought makes you dig your nails into your palms, but the it’s is quickly forgotten when you feel him slide a finger into you.

"See?" He starts, words muffled by your folds, "Just needed someone to put you in your place, huh? To take the reigns?"

You flutter around him, and every fiber of your being wants to say something snippy in response, but all you get out is a blissed out sigh. He hums happily.

His fingers are much thicker than your own, calloused from his years of playing guitar. Looking down you notice he took all his rings off and set them next to you on the bed. He never takes his rings off, ever, you remember that. For some reason the simple act makes your heart leap out of your chest.

He pulls his face back from your slick for a moment just to watch the way you suck in his finger, and he moans at the sight of you. The sound makes your brain feel like static. “Fuck, baby, you needed it bad, huh? You’re fucking dripping all over my sheets and I've barley started.”

All you can do is nod your head and hum in response, and your jaw drops open with a soft moan as he slides in a second finger with ease.

“How long have you been wanting me like this, sweetheart? Be honest.” He asks, never faltering in his pace.

You whine at the question, embarrassment flooding your features as you turn your face to hide it in his pillow. He quickly kisses up your body, gently turning your head back to look at him. “You can tell me. No need to be embarrassed.”

You take one good look at his face, and you know that he already knows. He’s giving you that look. He just wants to hear you say it.

“Mm… Since-” you hesitate to finish your sentence, and then a particularly hard thrust of his fingers does it for you. “Since fucking high school! Christ, Eddie-”

A groan erupts from the back of his throat as he kisses you hard, licking and biting at your bottom lip, and then suddenly his mouth is back on your clit and you feel like you’re floating. He picks up the pace, eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

You feel your hips start to move against him, and he groans into your pussy making you cry out. “Yeah, that’s it.” He mumbles against your core, “Ride my face, honey.”

You can’t control the plethora of sounds that escape you, and your body seems to have a mind of its own. You writhe on the bed as Eddie devours you, holding your thighs over his shoulders. He searches for your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers, and he knows he’s found it when your eyebrows pinch up, a high pitched whine reverberating throughout his bedroom.

You can feel him smile against your cunt, continuing his assault against that spot that makes you see stars. He never stops looking up at you to watch your face contort with pleasure. His already dark eyes are now fully eclipsed with lust and need.

“Oh my god-” you gasp out, heaving for air as your legs begin to shake around his head.

He can tell you’re close from the way you’re squeezing his fingers and writhing under him. He doesn’t speed up or change his pace, he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moving the flat of his tongue back and forth against your clit and curling his fingers up into you just right.

“Eddie, mm… i’m so close-”

The second the words leave your lips, he pulls off of you. His mouth and fingers are completely gone in an instant, and you feel like you’re about to cry.

“What the fuck?!” You shout at him, voice weak with tears threatening to spill, “Why did you stop?”

Eddie grins from ear to ear, lips and chin glistening with your slick, “We talked about this, remember?” he says cockily, leaning down to lick a bead of sweat from your chest, “Brats don’t get to call the shots. You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”

You grumble and kick your legs out in frustration, but he kisses you to make it better. You slowly let him melt you back into putty in his hands, tasting yourself on his tongue. He presses his knee directly against your puffy cunt, groaning at your wetness against his skin as you sigh into his lips. You go to move your hips against him but he quickly stops you, moving his hand up instead to push down his boxers, his dick already hard and aching to feel you.

“Promise I’ll make you feel so good, just gotta be good for me first alright?”

You nod your head frantically, completely and utterly at his mercy. He looks like sex personified, and you just want to feel him. “Please, Eddie-”

He smiles sweetly at you, kissing your cheek as he slides the tip of his cock through your folds. “Awh, look at you and your manners.” he taunts, but this time you can't seem to care. In fact, you realize, you kind of like it.

You like hearing his voice.

You like it when he’s mean.

He pushes just the tip against your dripping hole, and you’re practically sobbing. “How can I say no when you asked so politely?” and then he’s sliding all the way into you, and you’re already a wreck.

“Holy shit- you feel so fucking good” he groans and huffs as he starts to slowly pump in and out of you, making sure you feel every drag of his cock inside you.

You’re already panting, stretching your hands against the cool metal to try and grasp for anything that can ground you, but you come up empty. He’s so much bigger than you expected him to be, and the stretch is practically making you drool.

“Eddie, fucking- god”

“That’s it, keep screaming my name just like that baby.” He encourages, kissing and biting at your collar bone, sure to leave marks, “You sound so goddamn pretty when you say my name.”

Eddie adjusts your position, pulling your leg over his hip and pushing it against your chest. The new angle has your back arching off the bed, a whimpering mess as you claw at the handcuffs.

Eddie leans his head to rest in the crook of your neck, panting and whining into your ear. “Shit, princess-”

Your cunt squeezes him at the nickname, and the moan that slips past your lips is guttural. “Oh, fuck-” He clamps his eye shut with a deep groan, gripping your thigh so hard it’s sure to leave little bruises.

That’s the first time he’s used that nickname since you started, and he knows it. He did it on purpose.

He lifts his head to look at your blissed out face, a goofy, lopsided, fucked out grin on his lips. “I knew it.” he gloats, thrusts getting harder, “Look at me.”

You muster up the energy to flutter your eyes open and look at him. The pretty smile on his face makes your legs shake.

“You like it when I call you that,” he beamed, “That’s why you hated when I used that name for you in public, huh. Cause’ it made you fuckin’ soak your panties?” he laughed meanly, watching tears fill your waterline. He leans down to brush his lips against yours, voice lowering into something sweeter. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you practically scream. He looked so pretty, and he felt so good, and you wanted him closer. It was all too much, you needed to hold something, anything. You needed to pull yourself back down to reality.

“Eds- Eddie, please can I touch you?” your fingers twitch where they’re held above your head, “Wanna feel you- please, i’ve been so good-”

Eddie whines at your sweet pleas, but maintains composure. He wanted to stick to the plan.

“Oh, honey, no” he pouts out at you mockingly, watching the way you strain for anything to grasp and his dick twitches inside you, “No, you gotta give me one first. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Too fucked out to formulate a simple response, you simply sob and nod your head. Your hips start to rock up into his thrusts, but Eddie grabs your hips with one hand and pushes them back down into the sheets. You feel like a live wire.

Then he brings his thumb down to your clit, gently rubbing circles on it, and your eyes clamp shut. He kisses your open mouth and you try your best to kiss him back, but he’s moaning into your mouth, and he’s touching you, and fucking you, and Eddie Munson is fucking you, and it’s all so good that you just can’t.

“Eddie, i’m gonna-” you babble, almost incoherent, feeling the knot getting tighter and tighter, “Please please please don’t stop!”

He puts more pressure on your clit and leaves sweet little kisses on your neck, “I’m not got stop, it’s okay.”

You’re so close you feel like you’re about to explode.

“You can cum for me, princess”

That’s all you needed to see stars, black clouding your vision as he rides out your high, not once stopping or slowing down his pace. You can vaguely hear him talking you down, but nothing registers past your ears ringing.

Then your wrists are released and he’s flipping you over so that you’re on top, straddling him, and your hands and lips are all over him in an instant. In this position he hits your g-spot perfectly, and you can’t help but sob against his chest at the overstimulation.

“Just one more for me, I promise.” he soothes, gently rubbing your hip as his guides your hips back and forth on his cock, making you both cry out. You start to set your own pace riding him, leaning back against his legs to give you the perfect angle.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters, breathlessly, “My pretty girl- fuck.”

Eddie was now moaning and whining louder and more freely than before, you can tell he’s getting close now too, and you’re already reaching your second climax of the night.

“Wanted you for so long,” Eddie admits, gripping your hip tighter, “can’t believe this is real.”

You whine at the confession, leaning forward to press your lips to the shell of his ear. You make sure to let your pretty noises and praises flow freely, just for him. Your fingers gently brush hairs from his forehead before scratching your way down his chest.

“You fuck me so well, Eds”

“Oh my god- you feel so good”

“Please, Eddie, I wanna feel you cum”

He’s an absolute mess, wrapping both hands around your hips and bending his knees up so that he can fuck you down onto him. “Wanna cum with you sweetheart. Want you to give me another one.” He rambles against your chest, and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little red marks behind.

“I’m so close, honey, c’mon. You can give it to me."

You bite and claw at his skin, so close to tipping over the edge.

"Soak me.”

You collapse forward as tears of overstimulation fall onto his inked skin, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder to ground himself while he paints your walls white. You ride out your highs, clutching each other like a lifeline. When you’re both back on planet earth, he cleans you up nice an gentle, and whispers pretty little praises into your skin as you fall asleep with your limbs intertwined.

“Knew you had a crush on me, princess.”

Let’s just say you no longer have to go apartment hunting!

asks are open!

[death---dealer]

I was wonderingggggggg what if reader gave noa oral?

Since you already did this with ceaser.

*shot down, deceased I've been risen from the dead to bless you all*

we talked about this guys. WE TALKED ABOUT ME BEING NASTY.

** BELOW IS VERY NSFW, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THANK YOU. 18+ READ THE PROMPT AND BE RESPONSIBLE IN KNOWING IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE PROCEEDING. **

I think the first time that you decide to go ahead with it, even having explained to him what you were going to do, Noa would be a tensed ball of nerves at having your face so near something that was not well established within the Ape community, or at the very least, it was something not talked about or mentioned in public settings.

Wide green eyes watched in tense and flurried frenzy as your hands press against his chest, just enough to get yourself propped up and without warning, your gentle finger tips are running down his chest, resting along his navel for a moment. The sensation in the pit of his stomach is so tight he felt like he was going to unravel. From the navel, Noa admires how your cheeks are a bit red, trying to convince the haze in his mind that it was just the nature of the fire playing along your skin, but he can feel just how hot your touch is, even through his thickened fur. Downwards, you're a bit hesitant, not sure how he was going to react as you lightly grasp his cock. Absolute, no barred reaction here. Hips are in the air, Noa is baring his teeth at the sensation of you touching it, and not having himself inside of you, Noa hisses under his breath, drawing a hard breath inwards and letting it hold there as he waited for you to move again. He had no idea this was even possible, the sort of twisted knot that was sitting dangerously close to the pit of his stomach but he wasn't turning away, he wasn't pushing back, he was asking for more, silent at first before a tiny gasp leaves his lips once the sensation passes. You're quick to give him a few pumps, just to get him as ready as possible ( Also, hey, you're a tease so why not ), letting your finger drift over the head a few times just to garner him to show his teeth at you again, which funnily enough, in the throes of intimacy, you'll do the same thing every so often and it makes Noa go wild.

Suddenly, the weight of your body is gone from the straddling position you had chosen. Right off of him and he's left wanting you back, long arms raising weakly, eyes looking down at what you were doing at the flush of movements as you were readjusting yourself. I mean, he knows, but does he know? Noa's eyes are on you, never taking them away as you prop his legs open, fur rising on his shoulders out of anticipation as you dip your body between then and he takes a second to really admire that--- and OH-

You're fast to bring your head downwards, giving your mate a look, letting your eyes lock as your hot breath cascades onto the hot and sensitive organ as you grasp the base to angle it properly for you to do what you so desperately longed to, the fur that was near the base tickled your fingers and you allow yourself the moment to admire him so close. He's girthier than a human male, not as long but incredibly veiny, it is a few shades lighter than the fur that it was usually tucked into when not aroused. Your hungry eyes sweeping over the prominent vein that sat on the underside, tapering off closer to the tip. Just to show him how much you loved him, and that despite him being an Ape, he deserved this sort of affection, he deserved it from you. You give him a cursory lick on the under side, right along the vein that had gotten your attention in the first place, letting your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of him twitching at the first placement of your mouth so near to him. He's incredibly fast to orgasm. Like, seconds after your mouth is on the head, barely even grazing with your lips to give him a taste of more, he's done for. immediately on your face, partially in your mouth. Didn't even have time to react properly to pull away. It's such a visceral cum too, like, teeth gritting against each other, he is holding onto the animal pelt underneath him for dear life, he feels like all the tendons in his fingers were going to snap under the pressure. You relish in the feeling of his thighs closing in on you, tightening their grip as his fur begins to brush your shoulder blades, his feet are straggling for something to hold on to and somehow end up on the small of your back and he's pressing you down, cum dripping off your face onto the animal pelt below. You make a note that you were going to have to clean it, but that seemed so forgotten when Noa made eye contact with you, eyes completely darkened with carnal want, his cock still in your hand, throbbing again at just the visual he was getting of you between his legs as he tried to collect his breathing, shooting inhales and exhales roughly through his nose before Noa finally lets his head drop backwards and he opens his mouth to say something. "Fast." You chuckled, swiping your mouth with your tongue to get just a taste of what he had just given you. You knew quick releases were normal, the first few times you two did anything, it was very brief and you expected it this time around as it was the first time you really delved into the realm of doing anything other than the most basic positions, followed by longer drafts of holding each other and engaging in conversations before you fell asleep against him. Noa only huffs out a response as you give a small thrust of your hand, asking if he wanted you to do it again. Wordlessly, he just nods.

Definitely becomes one of his favored forms of foreplay, sometimes even going as far as to only have that performed on himself rather than penetration. It just feels so euphoric.

Ah don't get me started ( actually please do ) about once he gets comfortable, perhaps two or three times after the first experience and Noa grasps at your hair for the first time. He's grasping it so tightly, dragging your eyes open to force you to look at him. He's hips shuffle forward as you make eye contact with him and moan against his cock. He's done for.

AH MY GOD. Your favored position is to have him on his back, it's just the most comfortable for you but you mention something one day about being on your knees and he does not relent the idea. In the middle of it that evening, he ASKS YOU IF IT WAS OKAY TO TRY THAT WAY.

And you do, licking your lip of the pre-cum that he had already given you. He is shaking like a LEAF as he brings himself to rise, suddenly flushed and afraid that he was going to loose his balance as you follow him out of the nest, bringing a small animal pelt with you to rest your knees again instead of sitting on the wooden thickets of the floor below.

This is really the first time that he's really looking down at you, often choosing to keep his eyes shut in anticipation of the impending pleasure but he wants to witness as you bring your sweaty body to your knees, shuffling forward towards his cock that was sprung deliciously in front of your eyes.

You don't even bother grabbing it - something Noa finds intensely interesting as you were so frequent to do that and instead, you just slide him into your mouth. His hands are at his side for the first portion of it, balling itself into a fist before relaxing again. His toes are curling and un furling before he does something unexpected.

HE GRABS THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD AND FORCES YOU TO TAKE HIS ENTIRE SHAFT INTO YOUR MOUTH. THE GAG? OHHHHHH The fur on his spine is prickling with satisfaction, almost transfixed in your saliva dripping down your chin.

Noa is not hesitant to cum in your mouth. ( Not his favorite, but it'll do if he can't get himself inside of you before he needs to. )

[thedevilrisen]

Hospital - 5

TW: HOSPITALS, nothing bad, just a description of someone in a hospital.

Nova Crosby -

1:16am

Theorising while sitting in an intensive care waiting room at quarter past one in the morning is never a good idea. Particularly after being given fodder such as an unplanned emergency surgery, both men had their own ideas on what could have happened. Knowing the extent of Nova's condition before she was whisked away at the emergency room Luke was trying to use Sid's aged wisdom to conclude what happened. But both of them had absolutely nothing.

Standing, leaning against the granite kitchenette counter which was more so holding the exhausted form of Sidney up while he skulled the dregs of his third coffee. Religiously Sid only had one coffee a day on decaf, but in such a drastic situation where he needed to be as awake as possible if the promised Nurse ever actually came. Each time a pair of lone footsteps clacked down the hall Sid or Luke, whoever was closest to the door looked out to check if it was a Nurse.

Two times it was the food delivery, bringing in product for the next day, one it was the cleaner and three times orderlies who were moving wheelchairs back to the spots they needed to go to. Every time Sid became more agitated, the patient Canadian niceness was wearing thin, exceptionally fast. Each time it wasn't a nurse with answers and every minute that ticked by that the phone didn't ring with answers his frustration exponentially increased.

"I think I'm going fucking insane Luke." Sid mumbled, pouring hot water into another cup loaded with instant coffee. His incessant grumbling and almost permanently creased brow was giving away the fact that he hadn't had an emotional outlet since he left the game almost six hours prior. He had held Luke through his initial crash when he first arrived and had gave him a pat on the back and or shoulder rub depending on where he was when Luke needed a little extra comforting.

Luke was now almost apathetic, but Sid. Sidney was dangerously toeing the line of complete and utter meltdown. He prided himself on his sturdy and tentative nature. He was kind, never raised his voice, except when Nova goes joy riding with a bunch of college boys to New Jersey for the weekend- ... but thats a different story. Sidney solidly believed that any rebellious situation Nova had been in would be better than this right now. He could control it, make sure she was safe and okay. See with his own two eyes, not matter how red they were hazed with his rage that she was okay.

"I know what you're talking about Sid. I feel like I could drop asleep any minute but it's Murphy's law. I do that and suddenly she's awake and we can see her." Luke half slurred, half grumbled.

"This is fucking ridiculous, where did they say the ICU room is?" Sid spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument, although Luke tried.

"Sid, I'm as upset as you. It's only been a little while since the call, they are probably getting her sorted." The optimism coming from Luke slathered in monotonous tonality fell about as flat as a crepe to floor.

"No, that's my fucking daughter!" Sid launched back, the string holding him up seemed to fray ever so thinner. "Give me th-"

A gentle knocking sounded from the door, as a young Nurse, clad in burgundy scrubs poked her head in, pushing the door open, "Are you with Nova Crosby?"

"About fucking time!" Sidney crows, the clench of his fist in the fabric of his suit pant pocket is enough to give away the fact that he is fuming.

"I'm sorry Sir, we've been as quick as we could, you can come see her now if you want." The Nurse was desperately trying to diffuse Sid's anger, not directed at her but rather the situation.

"We'd love that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Checking Luke was following him as they began down the hall where they met a coded door that the nurse typed in and were led into a a white room with two sinks.

"If you could please wash your hands before coming in, it assists us in making sure the patients aren't compromised." before she had even finished both boys had started scrubbing, very thoroughly for their waning patience. When they finished the nurse led them through the ICU department towards the back where surrounded by a blue medical curtain was a bed. In that bed Nova laid, a fraction of consciousness, behind her bed was a plethora of machines which beeped and rang in their timely fashion. Sidney couldn't figure out when he went from fine to hyperventilating as he stared at his daughter, so young and fragile swaddled in white hospital blankets, akin to the ones she was handed to him for the first time he held her.

The ugly tubes coming out of her arms, cannulas in her elbow and top of her hand, a feeding tube coming out of her nose, a heart monitor connected directly to her chest. It was all too much, he didn't know he was crying and how obvious it had become that his mental capacity for the situation was declining greatly.

"Sir." A middle aged man in a white coat coxed him towards a door, leading him away from Nova. Pushing him outside as he looked a Luke who had sat down beside her, the moment romantic but catastrophic.

"That's my girl!" Sid roared in anguish, "Thats- THATS MY BABY."

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"NO DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING. Thats my baby girl! I have raised her for nineteen years, I of all people deserved to know what happened to her as soon as I arrived! Do you know how much she means to me, seeing her like is equivalent to ripping my heart out and piercing it with a stake!" Sid was hysterically now, loud voice echoing throughout the deserted hallway. "I need to know! I need you to do your fucking job and not be incompetent! Please."

The doctor led Sid to a chair and sat him down. "I'm a father too, I understand your anguish." he took a deep breath, "I will tell you everything but I must warn you, it will hurt and be a shock to the system. My team and I are dedicated to helping your daughter though, I want you to trust we will do everything in our power to help."

Sid took a deep breath, this was going to be a long conversation.

[size0forhollywood]

Metafiction

Pt1.

Content Warning: assault, space travel, fourth wall break attempt, NSFW, smut, Physical and mental harm, degrading, being held in captivity, penetration, SA, angry Sylus.

21+

Synopsis: you’re just an ordinary woman who regularly indulges playing a mobile game called Love and Deepspace…and occasionally read filthy fanfictions about your favourite character Sylus. Your whole world is turned upside down after rescuing a baby crow and you’re transported into a world where the game isn’t a game and Sylus is real…and all those fanfics you read did NOT prepare you for this.

A/N: I’ve had this idea stewing in my mind for a very long time. Please forgive me if it doesn’t translate well. But I hope you enjoy and join me on this mind bending journey. And if you bear with me..we will eventually see sylus’ sweet side.

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

Your screams echo and make your ears bleed. Lights all colours of the cosmos blinding you in a blur of movement so fast you think maybe your eyes are bleeding too. Agony washes through you as it feels like your body is getting stretched thin like spaghetti and then bounces back to normal just for it to happen again.

You were falling, stars and space dust collide around you. Images of different worlds and planets surrounding you. Why is this happening? What is happening? You feel as though your heart is gonna burst from your chest with every stretch and pull.

Then you see it. An image of a black crow with glowing red eyes appears before you in a dusty haze, you reach for it feeling your fingers stretch towards the familiar bird.

As soon as your finger tips touch the dusty particles that make up the image of the crow a bright light shines and blinds you. You cover your eyes with your other arm and feel yourself falling hard and fast. Suddenly you collide with something hard, your face hitting hardwood floor. You groan as you lie there, body too weak to move.

“Who are you?” You hear two voices say in unison. You slowly raise your head, vision unfocused.

But you swear you can see two men dressed in black wearing bird masks. Confusion washes over you as you whisper.

“Luke? Kieran?” You don’t know why but these men do look like Luke and Kieran from the game. You notice them stiffen and their voice getting more aggressive.

“Who. Are. You?” They demand.

You can feel yourself getting nauseous and dizzy. Your vision goes blank and you pass out as you see them stepping towards you.

~

Your muscles start to twitch, consciousness slowly returns and you wake to the feeling of sore muscles and your head pounding. You’re still on the floor but you’re somewhere different.

It feels colder here and a chill runs down your spine as you feel you’re not alone.

“You’re awake.” A deep voice resonates in the air.

You look up eyes still blurry but you know that voice. How could you not. But this wasn’t possible. None of this is possible.

You suddenly feel a burning pain snaking around your body, you look down and see black and red mist enveloping you. You groan in pain as the mist lifts you into the air and brings you closer to the figure sitting on a chair. You land on your knees in front of him.

The painful mist still holding you in place. Tears stinging your eyes, you look up. Your vision is still blurry but you can make out the Silver hair and the deep, red eyes. There was no mistaking it.

“S..Sylus?”

The man’s brow furrows, he leans down and grabs your chin hard pulling your head up to look you in the eyes.

One of his eyes glows bright as he asks “who are you?”.

You tense your body expecting to feel some more pain in your head as you expect Sylus to read your mind but nothing changes.

He gets angrier being unsuccessful in his attempt to read your mind. You feel your body get jerked up into a standing position. The black red mist constricting you like a snake.

“Please..stop.” You beg. “I’m no one. I don’t know how I got here. I’m not from this world.”

Sylus steps closer, his hand on your jaw squeezing your cheeks together.

“Then how do you know me and my men.” His voice was deep and seething with rage.

Tears start to spill down your cheeks from the pain.

“How did you get into my base unnoticed?” His grip tightening.

“I..don’t know!” You sob through squished cheeks. “Please let me go” tears are falling uncontrollably now. Your body in so much pain, your head still pounding.

“Not until you answer my questions.” He growls.

A dark glowing tendril snakes up your body, you feel it slide up your neck and towards your mouth. Your eyes widen in fear as the black tendril goes into your mouth and before you could scream it plunges down your throat, suffocating you.

The sounds of you choking fill the room. You’re trying to scream, trying to move but you can’t. You’re paralysed and absolutely terrified. Just as the corner of your eyes go black, the tendril is yanked from your throat. You gasp and cough. Saliva dripping out the corners of your mouth.

“Please.. you don’t need to do this.” Your voice hoarse. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.” You sob.

“You’re right, I don’t need to.” He steps closer to you closing the distance. A finger smears the saliva on your lips. “I want to.”

“No please! Don’t!” You sob as you feel the black tendril touch your face. Unwilling to go through that again you pass out.

~

As you start to regain consciousness once again, you feel you’re somewhere softer. Your arms hurt, and you look up to see both wrists are handcuffed to a headboard above your head. You’re half sitting, lying down on what feels like the most comfortable mattress you’ve ever been on. A blanket covers your lower half.

Your eyes take in the dimly lit room. Dark velvety walls, dark carpet, beautiful goth paintings decorate your surroundings. Book shelves filled to the brim and by the corner sits an old timey record player.

You wriggle your wrists and pull on the cuffs but it’s no use. Your body is still aching and now your throat hurts too.

Your heart beat quickens. This isn’t how you thought your throat would hurt because of Sylus, is it y/n?

You shake your head and sigh to yourself. This can’t be real.

“This has to be a dream..” you whisper to yourself.

“It’s not a dream.” Sylus’ thick voice cuts through the silence.

You look towards the bedroom door to see him standing there leaning against the frame.

“Sylus..” you barely whisper. He starts slowly walking to you, each step closer putting fear in you.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

He’s standing over you now, once again grabs your cheeks with one strong hand and squeezes. One eye starts glowing as he tries to read your mind again but nothing happens.

He scowls and lets go.

“Why isn’t it working?!” You can feel his anger in every pore of your body and you get goosebumps.

“I-I don’t know.” He grabs your hair and you yelp in pain.

“I swear I don’t know!” You cry out. “Where I’m from there’s no such thing as evols or aliens. Nothing!”

You see his brow furrow even more and he pulls on your hair, stinging your scalp.

“Please! It’s the truth!” You sob. “Where I’m from you’re a video game character! You’re not real! None of this is real!” Tears are streaming down your face again.

Sylus let’s go of your hair and sits on the edge of the bed. “If none of it is real how did you get here?” His voice sharp like a hot knife.

“I don’t know.. I swear!” You start to ramble. “You’re just a character in a dating sim game, a virtual boyfriend. That’s how I know your name, how I know Luke, Kieran and Mephisto…”

“A virtual boyfriend?” Sylus looks at you with disgust and then he chuckles. There was no humour behind it, it was mocking. “How pathetic.”

He pulls back the blanket that was covering you from the waist down. Once the cool air pricks your skin you realise you’re not wearing any bottoms or underwear, you’re completely naked.

He rests a hand next to your hip and leans forward. His face only inches from yours.

“Tell me…are most girls pathetic like you to resort to a virtual boyfriend?” His hand starts to slide up your thigh. “Did you imagine what it was like to get fucked by me hmm?”

You try to keep your thighs together but he’s much stronger than you and spreads your legs. He leans in closer to whisper into your ear. “Did you enjoy it?”

You sob as you feel one of his fingers slide between your folds.

“Please stop..” you whimper. But he doesn’t.

“Stop? But look at you. You’re absolutely dripping.” He inserts his finger in you and you gasp at the intrusion.

“Please, I’ve told you everything..” more and more tears slide down your face and you try desperately to ignore the pleasurable feeling building inside you.

“This isn’t about getting information anymore.” He adds another finger, picking up his pace as he shoves his long fingers in and out of you. Feeling your tight hot walls as he does. “Say I do believe you. This is about humiliation.” He sits back and watches your reaction.

You screw your eyes shut so that you don’t have to see his red eyes staring you down. Your face feels hot and the tears just keep flowing.

“I’m begging you.. p..please stop…” you pull at your wrists but the cuffs just dig into your skin.

“You say stop but your body says don’t stop…it feels so good.” He taunts. You turn your face and try to hide it behind your arm.

“Look at me.” He demands. You don’t move. He starts thrusting his hand faster to the point of pain and you cry out. “I said look at me.” He growls.

You open your eyes and the red orbs send chills throughout your body. It was menacing. It was evil.

The door to the bedroom clicks open and Kieran walks in. He’s completely unphased about what is happening and talks to Sylus.

“Boss there’s been chatter of a wormhole that opened up around the same time she fell through. Luke and I are going to go investigate now.”

Sylus, still thrusting his fingers in you, just casually responds. “I’ll meet you two there.”

Kieran nods and walks out of the room closing the door behind him. You can’t believe that just happened, that he acted like nothing horrible was happening.

Sylus looks back at you, he curls a finger up and finds your g-spot. You gasp and moan and mindlessly buck your hips up.

“Look at that…” he says mockingly and he keeps rubbing that sensitive spot making your mind go crazy. Waves of pleasure surging through you but you hate it. At least you try so desperately to hate it and fight it.

“Are you gonna cum hmm? Cum for a fictional character like a pathetic, ugly woman?” The words are like ice shards slicing through you.

“Please..” you sob one more time but it’s too late. You cum and you cum hard on his fingers squeezing so tightly he can barely move them.

For a second you thought you heard him groan but you dismissed it as you ride out your orgasm. Your sobbing gets a bit louder as your mind starts to clear up.

Sylus scoffs and pulls his fingers out, wiping your juices on your thigh. He stands up, still looking down at you.

“Disgusting.” He doesn’t even cover you back up before heading to the door to leave.

You sniffle and sob and watch him walk away. Just as he reaches the door you speak up.

“I hate you.”

He pauses for a second, doesn’t even turn around.

“Good.” And with that he left shutting the door hard behind him.

~

It felt like hours had passed, your arms and wrists aching so badly. Your tailbone was starting to hurt now too, causing numbness in your legs.

You’re silently crying, wishing you were back home. You hear the flap of wings in the room and a black crow with red eyes and metal wings lands on the bed near your feet.

“Mephisto..” you whisper.

The crow tilts its head at you and starts hopping towards you. You can’t help but let out a tiny laugh. You’ve always liked birds. Especially crows and when they would hop like that.

“I found a bird like you..” you know whatever you tell Mephisto Sylus will hear but there was something comforting about the way Mephisto approached you.

“A little baby crow was injured outside my house..I helped him and nursed him back to health.”

Mephisto flapped his wings and came up to land on your shoulder. He nudged his head against your cheek and you couldn’t help but smile at the tender action. You leaned in and rubbed back.

“It was so cute. I even named him Mephi..after you of course.” Mephisto cawed in response.

“But as I was redressing Mephi’s bandages…his eyes..they just started glowing. I thought I was going crazy.” You felt Mephisto nuzzle against your cheek again, it was as if he was wiping away your tears.

“Next thing I know I’m surrounded by bright lights and feeling like I was getting sucked into a vacuum…it was horrible and painful. I honestly don’t know how or why I’m alive right now..” your voice begins to shake. You look at Mephisto.

“Then I saw you. With everything else I was experiencing I saw you. I reached out to touch you and a light so bright almost blinding me appeared.” More tears roll down your cheeks. “Then I end up on that floor in front Luke and Kieran.”

Mephisto spread his wings and cawed again. He took off and disappeared into a cloud of black mist.

“Good chat..”

You sigh and look up at the ceiling and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

How are we going to get out of this one y/n?

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

[fillthattank]

Heavyweight

A huge thanks to @plumpboybellies for requesting this story, it was very fun to write! Also, a shout out to a few friends for giving me a few ideas (you'll recognize yourselves!). This story wouldn't exist without you!

***

"I want you to move up a weight class," Colton's coach said. "I know you've been playing at this weight for a while, but you have a big frame. You'll be even better with more meat on you."

"How big do you want me?" Colton asked. 

Colton was a wrestler. 6'2'', 190 lbs, all of it muscle. His singlet hugged his lean body, highlighting every bit of definition. You could even guess the outline of his abs through the fabric.

"As big as you can? They removed the maximum weight limit a few years ago," Coach said. "Just bulk up as much as possible in the off season, we'll see how it works out after."

Colton nodded. This sounded fun.

"You'll probably have to kiss that eight-pack goodbye, but the extra muscle and all the heavyweight matches you'll be winning should more than make up for it," Coach laughed, slapping Colton's flat stomach.

Like any self respecting jock, Colton had a big appetite, but sticking to his wrestling weight meant he had to keep it under control. Every so often, Colton would overeat, whether it was wanting to impress his friends, having too much fun at a party, or just his stomach having the better of him, and he'd have to go on a brutal diet to cut back down.

This was, starting now, a thing of the past. After his meeting with Coach, Colton went to the nearest fast-food joint, and ordered 3 massive burgers from the get go. He knew he had the capacity, and now he could binge guilt-free.

Colton came back for a 4th. And a fifth. By then, his belly was bloated and stretching his shirt, making a gentle curve from under his pecs. That belly felt good, firm and heavy, a symbol of his newfound freedom.

"You sure about this?" Asked the vendor, as he ordered his 6th burger. Jocks overloading their bellies was a common occurrence, so some concern was natural.

"One hundred percent," he said, giving his bloated belly a good rub. It was starting to feel tight, but Colton knew there was room for at least one more.

Back at his flat, Colton took off his shirt, and checked out his gut. The six burgers had bloated him so much, it stuck out by a good 6 inches from under his pecs. His abs were still visible, making the belly look like a turtleshell.

This would be the last time Colton saw his abs, as he then opened his fridge, and continued his rampage. Chugging milk from the jug, eating an entire tub of grated carrots with the better part of a jar of mayo. Colton wasn't even sure of what some things were, he just ate them, and his belly stuck out even more. Not that he cared. He just wanted as much food as possible inside him.

Eventually, Colton got so bloated he had to lie down. His belly was a perfect ball now, his abs completely smoothed out by the tremendous volumes inside him. As if he'd been blown up like a balloon, except rather than air, it was solid, heavy food. His huge tank hurt, a bit, but it was a good pain. The kind you got after intense exercise, one that comes with a deep feeling of satisfaction. 

Colton stayed on his bed for a while, feeling up his tank of a belly, enjoying the fullness. He could have stayed like that all evening, but was this really his limit? He no longer had to keep his appetite under control, he could experiment a bit, right?

Still flat on his back, the bloated jock grabbed his phone from the bedside table, and ordered a pizza. His guilty-pleasure pizza, large and with all his favorite toppings, the one he always ordered when he felt down, or wanted to treat himself.

Waiting for the pizza to come was a haze. Digestion was starting to heat up his belly, to make him feel sleepy. When the bell rang, getting up was harder than expected. His gut was so heavy, his abs were so stretched, his quads working so hard to bear his weight. His stomach like a wrecking ball inside him. Maybe this was too much ?

All doubt vanished when he opened the door and smelled his favorite pizza. Colton felt the delivery guy's gaze on his muscular body and massive belly, giving him an extra confidence boost. He was a jock, and he had the muscle and the gut to eat meals smaller guys could only dream of.

Colton brought the pizza back to his bed, and ate it flat on his back, watching his musclegut rise a little bit with each slice. His stomach had probably reached capacity a while back, the jock now eating by sheer force of will. Pizza being dragged into his monster stomach by muscle memory. The pressure inside his stomach, the weight of all that food, the stretch on his abs, the heat of digestion, it was all one big dream-like haze. It wasn't a new feeling, but the stretching felt like heaven. The jock passed out not long after the last slice, using what strength was left in his tired body to give his bloated belly one final rub. This offseason was going to be fun

*

Colton woke up still bloated the next morning. He'd eaten so much even his rocket-speed metabolism hadn't been able to digest it all in one night. Weirdest of all, he was hungry. His belly didn't so much feel half full as it felt half empty.

Colton liked this. He made himself the biggest breakfast ever, and ate it all.

This became an everyday occurrence. Colton's belly was constantly bloated, and Colton was constantly eating. Each time his bloat went down a bit, he'd top it back up. And when his belly looked close to the limit, he'd force more food in the tank. He figured out a neat trick, if he rubbed the side of his belly with one finger after it got full, his stomach would be able to stretch a little more, allowing him to eat more.

Colton had no idea how fat he was or wasn't getting, or even what his weight was. He had to be constantly lugging a few dozens of pounds inside his gut, and it was so packed at all times he couldn't tell how much of it was muscle, fat, or just plain bloat.

All Colton knew is that he was indeed getting bigger, and was getting stronger. His arms were bigger, his pecs, his back, his legs, every muscle, actually, though with a big asterisk over his abs. Sure, people stared at him when he turned up at the gym looking pregnant, but their judgement turned to admiration when they saw how much he was lifting, or how much he could put away in just one meal.

*

The day before wrestling resumed, Colton checked himself out in the mirror. He looked so massive, so beefy, his big round gut looking great on his muscular frame. Colton picked up his singlet, unworn since the end of last season, looking forward to seeing what he'd be looking like for the next few months.

Putting it over his legs proved tough. Even his calves were tight, nevermind his massive quads. Colton painfully got it over his lower body, but when it reached his waist, the singlet blocked. Colton's enormous belly stuck out by about a foot over the girdle, so far out he didn't think he could pull the rest of it up without risking tearing the fabric.

Colton tried to suck in his belly. Tried, and failed. He could barely get it to stick out by a few inches less, and trying to suck it in any further made him feel he was about to throw up.

He stared at his reflection, his singlet hanging around his waist, his belly looking way too big. Maybe he'd taken the eating a bit too far? 

Colton decided to fast for the rest of the day. He needed his bloat to go down to fit in his singlet, and anyway, it would be useful to know his actual weight. Never mind that he probably had enough food still in his system to hibernate a whole winter.

The rest of the evening was miserable. Somehow, the many pounds of food inside Colton's enormous belly weren't enough. He now needed to be permanently stuffed. The overbulked jock went out on a run, the first in a while, hoping it would speed up his metabolism and help his belly deflate faster, but it just made him hungrier. And after months of non-stop overeating, falling asleep on a stomach that wasn't stuffed to the limit proved tough.

Out of habit, Colton took a pack of pancakes to eat as he cooked a monster omelette, before remembering. He miserably put the food back in the cupboards, his huge stomach begging him not to.

Getting dressed for his first day back wrestling, Colton found almost everything in his wardrobe was still tight around his belly, even empty. The jock had always liked wearing clothes that highlighted his physique, and had carried the bloated gut as a point of pride all the off-season, but now he felt almost embarrassed. Maybe he'd gone too far, maybe the hunger was just putting him on edge. He settled on a baggy tank top, that was loose everywhere, but that made up by showing off his meaty arms.

Colton was driving to his wrestling practice when he snapped. He passed the same burger place he'd had his first cheat meal at. Remembered stuffing himself, how good it had tasted, how nice his belly had felt. And decided he was so hungry it was probably unsafe to drive.

"You sure about this?" The vendor said, as he ordered one burger. "Don't even want a second, big guy?"

Colton's orders had been progressively getting bigger over his offseason, so this was a sudden change. Still, a second wouldn't hurt?

Colton started eating, and this was the best a cheap burger had ever tasted. He could feel the life force coming back to him as he gorged, as the food flowed into his huge hungry belly.  He ordered a 3rd burger, then a 4th, and kept eating more and more. He needed the food. It was a matter of life or death.

The jock returned to his car with his 8 burgers comfortably packed in his big round belly. He'd worry about his singlet when he got there. His belly felt so good. And he wasn't going to perform well if he was too hungry, right?

Stepping into the locker room, Colton noticed he was way bigger than the other wrestlers. Even bigger than he expected. Guys he used to think of as massive, he now outbulked. Some had trimmed down, others had beefed up, but no one had gained as much as Colton, and he wasn't the only one to notice.

"Wow Colt', look at those guns!" said a jock.

"Bro the other heavyweights won't stand a chance," said another, feeling up his biceps and triceps. Because of his loose tank top, his arms stood out the most. And yeah, they had grown a lot bigger.

Colton was more than happy to have all the guys playing withis his big arms. His bulk had been a success, after all. The tune changed, however, when Colton took off his shirt, revealing his massive belly.

"Bro, you got pregnant or what?" 

"Damn dude, I know coach said bulk up but damn. It looks like you've done nothing but eat everyday until that belly is past its limit! That's some serious extra heft bro."

Other wrestlers stopped what they were doing, and came up to see Colton's new belly for themselves.

"I ate a lot at lunch time," Colton said, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, and at breakfast, and at dinner, and a lot of snacking too, everyday. We can tell," one wrestler replied. Colton couldn't think of a come-back, the guy was right.

"Guys just how much do you think we can fit in here?" said one guy, passing a hand over Colton's big belly. "A gallon? Two gallons? Maybe even three gallons? It's really huge!"

The whole wrestling team was around him, playing with his belly, when Coach stepped into the locker rooms.

"You guys never seen a heavyweight wrestler, or what?" 

The other jocks stepped back. Coach walked up to Colton, eyeing up his belly. Gave it a few slaps.

"They've got a point, though. This is one big belly," Coach said, giving it a few more pats. "Go get changed, son."

Colton blushed and acquiesced. As the other jocks walked out, Colton pulled his singlet out of his bag. He hadn't eaten that much, only eight burgers, and he'd fasted before, so he was probably going to fit, right?

As last night, it was tight around his legs, the fabric straining over his bulked quads. Getting it over his meaty butt was even harder. It hadn't grown as much as his belly, but he couldn't suck it in, meaning he had to force hard.

Then came the belly. Colton sucked it in as hard as he could, pulled the singlet up, and nothing happened. He just felt really tight around the places he'd already put it on.

Colton relaxed, took a few breaths. Looked at his huge round belly on his beefy frame. The extremely tight singlet around his quads. He checked out his backside in a mirror, it looked vacuum sealed. Still, if he could get it over his butt, he could get it over his belly, right?

The jock breathed out all the air in his lungs. Sucked his gut in so hard he almost felt one of the burgers come back up. The belly still stuck out by a few inches, but Colton could now slowly inch the singlet up over his paunch. By the time he'd gotten his arms through the holes, he'd been holding his breath for so long he was about to pass out.

Colton's singlet was back on, clinging tightly to every bit of his bulked body. So tight, it was as if it had been spray painted on him. His beefy pecs, his quads, and of course his big round belly, prominent even as he sucked it in. A big change from last season. 

Pleased with himself, Colton relaxed, breathing normally once again.

crrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaack

Colton heard fabric tearing. He looked down, and saw his singlet completely torn, his bare belly sticking far out.

"Uh, Coach!" he called out, "I have a problem."

[withahappyrefrain]

Talking about pegging Jake is not good while I’m OVULATING ugh fuck, he’s such a baby back bitch..I want to ruin him and put him back together..just want to BREAK him and stitch him back up..ending up sucking on my tits (oral fixation) (Did I just write this🫣🤭)

Edging Jake would be so delightful. He tries to appear unbothered, even commenting he could go "all night."

But after the fifth edge? He's a blubbering mess. His words are slurred as he begs you to let him come.

"I don't know," your fingers lightly graze his hard cock, eliciting a desperate whine from him, "Are you going to be a good boy?"

"Y-yes." He has tears in his eyes. Jake is willing to do anything for you. His hips are jerking erratically, practically humping the air. Any shame he had was gone.

Hesitantly, you prop his knees up to his chest, "You gonna apologize to everyone tomorrow?"

He nods desperately, "Yes! I'll, I'll do it tomorrow."

The head of the silicone cock brushed against his hole, making him drop his head back, sighing out of relief.

But the relief quickly turned to panic when he realized you hadn't moved, only the tip was in.

Jake needed it all.

"Who are you gonna apologize to? Tell me."

Jake briefly thinks about pushing himself down on the strap on. He has the strength, his hands are free.

But the potential punishment stopped him.

Instead, he merely whimpered, hoping those green eyes would garner sympathy from you.

"I'll give you a hint baby. It's five people. Name all five and I'll let you come."

A frustrated groan escaped Jake's lips. Your eyes narrowed and you pulled your hips back, beginning to leave him-

"B-Bradshaw!" You smiled, thrusting forward slightly.

"Good boy. Now name the rest."

"N-Nat?" His brain was scrambled. All he could think about was you, how you were ever so slowly filling him up.

"Three more."

"P-Reuben?" Jake's brain tried to think back to today's earlier events, which was what caused him to be lying on his back in the first place.

"Two more." Your hips move closer towards the back of his thighs.

Jake practically sobs, trying to think through the haze who else he offended.

"M-Mav?" His voice is weak, body shaking.

It's a delicious sight to witness.

You pull away, ignoring his cries, "No baby. He deserved that. But you should thank him for saving your neck."

You giggled as his body squirmed. Leaning over, your mouth captured one of his hard nipples, your hot tongue swirling around the hardened bud.

When met with Jake's groans, you simply tsked, not even bothering to hide your smirk. Why should you? He knew you delighted in this just as much as him.

"C'mon baby, gimme two more names." The head of the silicone cock now brushed against Jake, teasing.

After all, he needed to focus.

Your thumb wiped across the slit on the head of his cock, relishing in the groan the pretty blonde man made. Jake was putty in your hands. While getting up and walking away was possible, the thought never crossed his mind.

Your other hand gripped the base of the strap on, guiding it towards where Jake wanted it the most.

"Two more names Jake. I'm waiting."

His whole head felt fuzzy. With each minute that passed he slipped further and further into that headspace. It's what he craved, what he needed. It was why he always acted so bold and brash. From the first day you met him, you knew he was silently begging for someone to put him in his place.

He still wrestled with it, the idea of fully submitting himself to someone else. It went against everything he had been told, everything that had been ingrained in his head from the beginning.

A harsh thrust, filling him completely sent the pilot gripping the bed sheets. His hips thrashed against the mattress, struggling to adjust to the size.

The privilege of time had been revoked several edges ago. You pulled your hips back, only to thrust forward again, building up a fast rhythm.

"S'good." Jake was a withering mess underneath you, a far cry from the cocky man from earlier. From how his cock twitched to his knuckles turning white, you knew he was close.

"I know. Such a shame."

He's so lost in pleasure your words don't even register. No, it's not until you abruptly pull out, leaving him empty and desperate that Jake realizes what's happened.

"I told you baby. Two more names."

[cxsmiicc]

her little devil - lady lesso x reader

happy halloween yall idk wym im totally not 20 minutes late posting this shush

warnings - smut, orgasm denial, eating out, light fingering, vibrator, possessive lesso, halloween party

posted on ao3 also <3

2.2k words

-----

You picked at your chosen costume, suddenly doubting if it was the right one. The red latex clung to you in ways you were unused to and growing insecure of, neckline dipping far lower than you would usually wear and skirt stopping mid thigh. More than a little alcohol had gone into this decision. Well, too late to change now. Grabbing the headband with horns attached, you slammed out of your room before you lost your nerve, smoothing your hair around the cheap plastic as you walked down to the party. Clarissa and her damn parties, ever since the schools had merged it seemed like there was one every other week. And she just had to have the wonderful idea for a costume party, as though you didn’t have enough on your plate with classes and grading and her.

You banished those thoughts to the back of your mind, you had a party to attend after all. Of course whether or not you wanted to was a different matter, you would much rather spend tonight hiding away with a bottle and a vibrator. If you could escape early that could still work, it all depended on how fast Clarissa could corner you into taking drink after drink. For all she preached about good deeds that woman could coerce anyone into doing damn near anything with minimal effort.

Swinging the door open, you spotted her immediately. She was facing you, gesturing for you to join her and whoever it was she was talking to the second you were visible. The mystery woman turned around and your mouth fell open in shock. Lady. Fucking. Lesso. Her hair was straightened and dyed black for the night and there was a drip of blood decorating either corner of her mouth. She smirked at your reaction to her outfit and fangs became visible, successfully creating a fiery heat between your thighs. It only became worse as your eyes slid downwards to the generous amount of skin on show, matching your own outfit in everything but length. Where your dress was short and flared hers was long and fitted, flowing down and accentuating her every curve before pooling on the ground. Breaking yourself out of the haze, you made your way over to the two of them, first smiling at Clarissa before turning your attention to your boss.

“A vampire? Very appropriate Red, if I can even say that with you looking like this.”

“Seems like I should call you that tonight. Even I didn’t think to be quite so on the nose with my costume. The Evil history teacher, dressed as the devil? Somewhat obvious, don’t you think Clarissa?”

The blonde could only stare at the two of you and giggle, already too tipsy to care about pretending she couldn’t sense the tension between you and her fellow dean.

Rolling your eyes at the state of her, you turned back to Lesso to keep the conversation going, “So, what gives with you putting in effort tonight? Call me crazy but you don’t exactly strike me as the type to go all out for a work party.”

“Maybe I just felt like dressing up,” she spun where she stood, giving you a glimpse of the low back of her dress and sending a wave of arousal crashing through you, “My reasons are none of your business, though you seem to be enjoying it just the same.” A wicked grin graced her features, red lips quirking upwards as her eyes flitted across your body. “I must admit, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Oh? Careful Lesso, that almost sounded like a compliment. Wouldn’t want the ice queen to show emotion now would we.”

She laughed at you, low and slow and right in your ear. Right when you didn’t think it was possible to be any more turned on by this woman and she goes and does it.

“Ice queen… now that would’ve been a good costume idea.”

“Ah ah, what happened to not wanting to be too on the nose.” It was your turn to smirk as she registered what you just said, eyes darkening with what you would swear was lust if you didn’t know who you were talking to. All of a sudden you felt a tear on your costume and she was forcing you out of the room before you even knew what was happening, one hand firmly on your hip and the other on your shoulder. Everything was a blur as she guided you all the way back to your room, flashing her finger at the door to open it before you collided with the ageing wood. It was only to fling you down on the bed that she finally let go, pacing the empty space on your floor and offering no explanation for what she had just done.

“Care to tell me what that was all about?”

Rather than answering, she just stopped her pacing and crashed her bloodstained lips to yours, kissing you with a desperation you didn’t think her capable of. Just as quickly as she had started it, she pulled away, both hands buried in her hair as she resumed her pacing.

“Do you even know what you do to me.” Her voice came out low and gravelly, sending another spike to your core at both the tone and her words. “Always prancing around the school in those little outfits, it was driving me insane knowing I couldn’t just tear them off and have my way with you. And then tonight, oh tonight,” You stood, drawing closer to her as she kept ranting, too caught up in what she was saying to pay you much attention. “You thought you could just waltz into that party with that much skin on show with no consequences?” She grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the wall above your head before tracing a hand down your torso. “That teeny tiny costume, oh so low cut with a skirt that barely covers your ass. Latex? Not your best idea, my little devil.” Keeping her hold on your hands, she slid a nail down the ripped neckline of your outfit, successfully exposing your breasts to her. “It all would’ve been fine, had it not been for your wardrobe malfunction. Only I get to see that much of you, are we clear?”

All you could do was moan in response as she lavished attention on your chest, drinking in the sight of you half bare and entirely at her mercy.

“I said, are we clear.”

“Mmm, we’re clear, we're clear.”

“We’re clear mommy.”

“Yes mommy, you’re the only one allowed to see me like this.”

“Good, now help me take the rest of this off. Latex is a bitch to sweat in, and I'm guessing someone’s more than a little bit worked up right about now.”

She released her hold on your wrists and you dropped your arms, allowing her to peel the dress off of you and discard it on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your black underwear and horned headband.

“I want to see you, please?”

“Of course, go lay down for me and I’ll be right there.”

Rushing back over to the bed, you lay on your back and craned your neck to get the best possible view as she dropped her dress to the ground and walked over with a sway of her hips that only darkened the visible mark on your panties. She wasted no time in straddling you and pulling you into another bruising kiss, swiping her tongue along the seam of your lips and gaining the access she wanted right away. It was everything you expected of her, rough and selfish while still showing enough care to keep you enthralled as her tongue swept through your mouth, swallowing each others moans as she rolled her hips across your stomach, leaving a trail of arousal in her wake. The pressure of her on top of you was almost too much as she maintained both the force of the kiss and the motion of her hips, groaning whenever her clit hit your skin. Your hands were buried in her hair, ruining the sleekness she had worked so hard for earlier that evening but now couldn’t care less about, not when the thing she had craved for so long was finally happening. She pulled away and you whined and attempted to pull her back in, earning a glare from the older woman as she slipped down the bed until her head was between your thighs. Lighting her finger once more to vanish your underwear, she began kissing down your thighs, slowly drawing closer to where you wanted her the most.

“Please…” you let out.

“Please what?”

Please eat me out, please mommy.”

“Anything baby.” 

Her tongue ran across your entrance and you gasped at the sensation, eyes falling closed and the sound morphing into a groan as she reached your clit. She nipped at the sensitive spot and you saw stars for a moment, the sinful moans leaving your lips only spurring her on. Focusing on your entrance, she kissed and teased at the flesh, dragging sounds you had never heard yourself make before from the base of your throat. Dipping her tongue into you, your back arched off the bed as she picked up the pace, plunging it in and out as your breath came in short puffs of air, most of which were immediately used up on the truly barbaric sounds you were making now. Your walls clenched around her as you reached the edge, spouting gibberish in an attempt to convey how close you were, only for her to retract her tongue and go back to marking your inner thighs. Whimpering in confusion, you opened your eyes to find her staring at you, lips still moving slowly against your skin. Pulling away, she licked the taste of you from her mouth before speaking.

“You really thought it’d be that easy? That you could wear that little outfit, tease me like that, and still get to cum?” The look in her eyes was dangerous, almost predatory.

You looked away, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Look at me,” she grabbed your chin, balancing herself by planting her other hand on your thigh. “If you can’t take it, don’t act like such a brat.” Leaning back onto her heels, she pulled you up with her, forcing you against the headboard when you were upright, mirroring her position and sitting on your own heels.

“Hands on the bed.”

The same glow that usually emanated from her finger this time came from her eyes, conjuring thick swathes of silk and binding your hands to the bed. Scanning the room for a moment, her eyes settled on something on your nightstand and she smiled, leaning over you painfully slowly to grab it. Hand wrapped around her prize, she went back to sitting opposite you, close but not quite touching.

“Now, just what do we have here?” Her hand unclenched to reveal your vibrator, the original plan for tonight before everything went sideways. “Is this what you were planning on doing after the party? Putting in an appearance and then sneaking off to touch yourself? And here I thought you were better than that.” She poised the toy over her entrance, fingers hovering over the settings. “Eyes on me love.”

Pushing it in with a groan, she started it on a lower setting and let her hands roam her upper body, stopping at her chest to tease her nipples, plucking at the bars going through them and successfully causing you to drip onto the sheets. One hand dropped down to turn up the intensity before immediately resuming rolling her piercings between her fingertips, letting every little sound fall from her open mouth, the blood long since smeared across your face and legs. Violet eyes bored into yours during her entire display, the colour barely visible around her blown pupils. The bed shook as she turned it up one final time, rocking her hips for more friction as she reached her peak, eye contact finally breaking as her head fell back and she released a wicked moan that had you writhing against the bonds, aching to feel something, anything other than the soft fabric of the bedsheets. She tipped her head back down, eying you hungrily.

Voice lower than usual she said, “Go on, say whatever it is you’re thinking.” 

The sight of her using your vibrator, the thing that had been inside you oh so many times now inside of her, had triggered some need inside of you that you didn’t know you had. Everything about what she had just done was driving you wild with need, as she could so plainly see by the wet patch on the bed beneath you.

“Please mommy, please touch me I need you gods just please.” Your voice came out far higher than you were expecting it to, barely less than a whine. “I won’t do it again, you’ll be the only one allowed to see that much of me.”

“Damn right.”

She advanced, two fingers easily slipping into your dripping cunt and lips muffling your gasp. The binds stayed around your wrists, rendering you putty in her grasp.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: Failure

Plot: Y/n deals with the emotional ramifications of her night with Jamie.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: f!reader, heavily insinuated smut, language

A/N: We’re rounding the final turn and we’re nearly to the end…I mean, there’s five or six chapters left but we’re very much in the last quarter of the story. As always, I don’t let my characters just have their happy endings so fair warning lol. Hope you enjoy!!

——————

Most alcohol-drenched nights are followed by a healthy dose of regret the next morning. When the sun comes up and shines a light on mistakes made under the influence, there are red cheeks, apologies and promises to never let it happen again.

But when Y/n woke up, head pounding and body curled into Jamie’s, the earth beneath her shattered.

She was up and out of bed faster than her hangover wanted her to move. Thankfully, Jamie was a heavy sleeper and hadn’t budged when she slid out of his arms.

Y/n’s sober self had had the good sense not to unpack, cutting her getaway time in half. She threw on her jeans and sneakers from the day before, hurriedly threw her toiletry bag in her purse and tiptoed to the door.

Just as her hand reached for the knob, she looked back at Jamie. Peacefully sleeping, arm still stretched out around the air she’d occupied…

Y/n took a shuddering breath, pushing out the door before she could think anything of the sight.

Room 502 was closest to the elevator, giving her a quick escape. As she pressed the lobby and ‘door close’ buttons repeatedly, the memories began to flesh themselves out. As much as they could through the vodka fueled haze.

After dinner, Jamie and her had gone to a club. At some point, one of them had pulled one of them onto the dance floor. Y/n couldn’t remember who’d suggested it, only that it had sounded like a great idea in the moment. Things began to blur after that.

She frustratedly dug her palms into her eyes. How the hell could they let something like that happen?

In reality, it hadn’t been anyone’s idea. Y/n hadn’t invited Jamie in, and Jamie hadn’t asked. The whole thing had come about as naturally as the rest of their relationship. Their bleary and bright eyes had locked in the empty hall, Their bodies, so near, had drawn closer and their lips had met before they knew what they were doing.

Y/n’s stomach clenched, the nausea of both the hangover and the memory hitting suddenly.

The elevator dinged, signaling she’d arrived on the ground floor. She squeezed herself and her suitcase out the doors before they’s fully opened and marched through the lobby. It was still too early for the hotel to be busy, even for it being London. It felt like an hour only meant for people with secrets, sneaking out with nothing but shame and a prayer.

The brisk morning air slapped Y/n, angering her post-drunk state more. Nevertheless, she pushed forward and began to wave wildly at the street, waiting for a cab to catch the signal. She glanced over her shoulder every few seconds, half-expecting a half-dressed Jamie to come running through the lobby, chasing her down.

Blessedly, a cab pulled up to the curb and saved Y/n from the possibility. As the driver got out to help her with her suitcase, she stopped him.

“I’ve got it,” she called, waiting for him to pop the trunk and dropped her luggage in.

Y/n’s phone buzzed in her pocket and stole her focus. She opened her home screen to find the worst possible headlines.

‘Jamie Tartt Celebrates England Victory with Mystery Woman.’

‘Tartt’s New Tartt? New Couple Spotted Exiting Club.’

‘A Perfect 10? #9 and +1 Dance The Night Away.’

“Shit,” Y/n’s voice broke. The cars whooshing past her and their horns pulled her back to reality. She threw herself in the backseat and took stock of herself. She hadn’t realized how sweaty she was, how fast her chest was rising and falling, the slight tremble to her hands.

“Where to, love?”

Y/n jumped at the question, briefly meeting the cabbie’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “Richmond Green.”

He grunted in reply and steered the car back onto the road. As they pulled away, Y/n glanced back at the hotel. Jamie lay inside its heart, blissfully unaware of the nightmare waiting for him. Warm and solid, he’d stay asleep, holding onto her ghost.

In her stupor, she hadn’t even bothered to look at what top she’d been sleeping in. She didn’t recognize it. It was a dark grey t shirt, oversized with a familiar and distinct smell to it.

Jamie’s.

Y/n’s breath trembled, the tears welled in her eyes. She had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

—————————

“Fuck, shit, hell,” Y/n whispered under her breath, using every four letter word in her vocabulary. She hastened her steps, hitting the cobblestone of her street with a new fervor. She needed to be in her home, hidden from the world and everybody in it.

But the world was rarely ever so accommodating.

Stood outside Y/n’s door was Keeley, dressed more casually and fidgeting more than Y/n had ever seen.

“There you are!” Keeley exclaimed, running to her friend and grabbing her arms, “I’ve been texting you all morning.”

Y/n’s head throbbed at the pure volume of Keeley’s voice. If there’d been any alerts on her phone, she hadn’t seen them past the tabloid headlines. “Yeah, I, uh, went away for the night. Just to clear my head.”

Keeley was far too preoccupied to think anything of it. “I’ve got amazing news,” she smiled, “Rebecca offered to back the company.”

Either Y/n was dreaming, or the vodka was coming back for a second round of delusion. “What?”

“She’s financing us,” Keeley’s grin spread.

Y/n supposed that she should have felt relief. 24 hours before, she’d have been joined Keeley and probably started dancing in the street. The job she loved was saved. The life she’d built would stay whole.

Now it terrified her.

“Oh my gosh,” Y/n breathed, relieved at least that she still had a paycheck, “Wow. Okay.”

“I thought you’d be thrilled,” Keeley nudged Y/n’s arms, “You don’t have to leave Richmond now. Nothing changes.”

The fear deepened.

“Right, of course,” Y/n tried to smile, “I’m just…surprised.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” Keeley agreed, “I didn’t ask for her help or anything. She just offered and I tried to turn her down but…I really wanted to save this.”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, her brain felt like it had been chopped into pieces and were floating around her skull. There was too much information to process, but this much she knew…

She’d slept with Jamie and she’d gotten her job at Richmond back.

Two things that couldn’t co-exist.

“Okay, I just wanted to tell you the news,” Keeley broke her out of her thoughts, cheerily wishing her goodbye.“I’ll leave you to your weekend.”

Just as she began to walk off, Y/n called her back. “Wait! You’re…you’re gonna need help getting the office back together. Why don’t I move into the building for a while?”

Keeley’s brows furrowed, “You want to leave Richmond?”

“I mean, there’s gonna be a shit ton of work to do,” Y/n explained, “Plus with a smaller staff, we’re going to have to work harder to maintain our clients. If I’m there, we can get twice as much done.”

Keeley didn’t object, giving the idea a fair hearing out.

“I can still take care of everything Richmond related,” Y/n assured, she was half defending the idea to herself, “Just from a distance.”

It had been an emotional 72 hours, for both women. Keeley had lost her company and gained it back, among other events. She was still raw. If Y/n was willing to help, she wasn’t going to turn it down.

Keeley reached for Y/n’s hands, her voice lowering. “Thank you.”

Y/n took a breath of relief, the whole plan hinged on Keeley not asking questions.

“Okay,” Keeley smiled, “Go get some rest. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“You got it,” Y/n replied, squeezing Keeley’s hands before parting. As soon as her boss’s back was turned, Y/n’s smile collapsed.

She unlocked her apartment door and shoved inside. She fell against the wood as soon as it shut.

Y/n had allowed herself to open up to her co-workers because it had killed her not to. She’d craved their kinship more than she’d coveted her solitude. It had been difficult, letting the Greyhounds in, but they hadn’t disappointed her. She’d had no regrets.

Until now.

Not only was her friendship with Jamie ruined by one stupid decision, it had opened the floodgates to all sorts of questions. Why had this happened? Was there a reason why it had happened with Jamie specifically? What was he thinking? What was he feeling? What was she feeling?

Was there…something?

Y/n had successfully avoided getting attached to anyone past a platonic level. But Jamie had become…something far past a friend. He was an extension of her, like an arm or leg might be. No one had ever gained her trust like he had. No one had ever made her happier than he had. If Y/n hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was somehow sent to help heal her.

Days before, when she’d thought she had lost her job, the thought of leaving Jamie had leveled her. It had driven her to tears before she could get the full idea through her head. Missing Rebecca or Keeley would hurt, but nothing and no one could compare to losing Jamie.

Somewhere in her subconscious, Y/n could recall the kisses they’d shared. The feel of Jamie’s arms wrapped around her, hands grasping at whatever he could hold. But above all else, she could still feel the tenderness. The safety. The peace.

Y/n knew by the ache in her chest, she’d failed.

She buckled under the weight of the revelation, sinking to ground and curling in on herself. The tears came quick, as they only could from true emotion. The kind of feeling that holds the power to lift you up or crush your soul.

She was fucked.

—————————

Was avoiding your problems harder than dealing with them?

Y/n pondered the question as she circled Nelson Road Stadium for the third time. Practice started at 10AM sharp, but she was waiting a few extra minutes. Chances couldn’t be taken.

It had been nearly a week since the Wembley match and she’d developed a system to avoid ever crossing paths with Jamie. She’d packed up her office essentials the day after Keeley had given her the good news. She scheduled her meetings with Rebecca and Higgins during training and made sure she was out the door before the boys broke for lunch. All other matters were handled over email. So far it had been successful, she hadn’t seen Jamie once.

Privately, she’d dodged 32 calls, 15 voicemails and 25 text messages.

She knew she was running, that it wasn’t fair to Jamie just up and leaving that morning without so much as a note. But her fear was stronger than her empathy.

Since returning to Richmond, Y/n had felt the sparkle fade. The quaint little town’s magic was either passing over her head or had denounced her entirely. She supposed, as she passed the Crown and Anchor on her way home, that it had to do with her mood. Nothing had seemed right in the world since her night with Jamie.

Pulling her keys out her purse, Y/n looked ahead to her front door. There on her front stoop, anxiously tapping his foot was the very man she’d been avoiding.

Jamie looked up, half-surprised that she was actually there. He jumped to his feet and pushed back the hood of his sweatshirt. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Y/n replied, her voice unnaturally high.

There was an overwhelming amount of things to be said but neither of them could utter one. The last time they’d seen each other had created ten new walls for them to break through.

“I, uh,” Jamie scratched the back of his neck, “I tried callin’ ya and texting ya.”

Y/n took a deep breath, “Yeah, um, I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” Jamie nodded, “Course.”

Y/n fiddled with her keys as he fisted his pockets nervously. Their conversations had never been so lacking.

Jamie inhaled, “Look, I need to apologize for that night-“

“No,” Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, “Jamie-“

“No, I just need you to know that I didn’t, like,” he struggled, “Plan it or something.”

“Neither did I,” Y/n shook her head.

“I didn’t think that was gonna happen.”

“I didn’t either.”

Their words overlapped each other, both so eager to clear the air. The only difference were their intentions.

“Look, Jamie,” Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose, “What happened was a mistake. We were both drunk, we were both excited about the win and it just happened. I don’t blame you for anything so…we’re good. We never have to talk about it again.”

Jamie wasn’t sure how he’d expected the moment to go, but Y/n brushing off the whole thing was…it wasn’t it.

“Right, yeah,” he nodded. He had a choice in front of him, two conversational roads leading to either the best or worst conclusions. Jamie knew if he didn’t try, he’d regret it. “But…what if it wasn’t a mistake?”

Y/n was firm in her stance, but it didn’t show through her person. She was nearly trembling. “No, Jamie, it was.”

“No, I get we were drunk and there was a lot goin’ on, but,” Jamie took a hesitant step forward, “What if…what if we…I don’t know, what if it meant-“

“Jamie,” Y/n cut him off. Where his thoughts were leading was unbearable and she refused to entertain any part of it. “We fucked up. We don’t have to talk about it.”

In the days since the England win, Jamie had gone through every emotion he thought himself capable of feeling, plus a few new ones. The second he’d woken up in bed alone, he knew it hadn’t started that way. He’d put back together the memories of the night, dancing and drinking, stumbling back into the hotel room. Y/n was at the center of it all, soft and warm and his, just for a moment in time. Before he’d even opened his eyes that fateful morning, Jamie was at peace.

The calm ended the moment he glanced around the room and realized Y/n had left. In a hungover panic most likely, she’d run out. Jamie had been quick to try and catch her, throwing his clothes on and running down to the lobby. There was no trace or her. Back in the room, he’d found nothing left over of her. Jamie knew he’d messed up before he even knew if the blame was his to take.

He’d texted her, asking to talk. When there was no reply, he called and left messages, begging for two minutes of her time. He’d waited in the parking lot of Nelson Road, watching for her car to pull in until the very last minute before training. He’d raced into the building after each practice, roaming the halls expectantly. He’d knocked on her office door ten times a day, finding it empty every time. Finally, when he felt like he was fully losing his mind, Jamie drove to her place. He’d stay on her doorstep all night, that was perfectly fine with him. He needed to see her.

All of it had confirmed in Jamie’s head what his heart already knew.

He was crazy about Y/N.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened or what had changed, but somewhere along the line he’d fallen for her. The only thing about their night together Jamie regretted was how it happened. He didn’t want some drunken hook-up. He didn’t know what the fuck he wanted, but it wasn’t what had brought them to that moment. Standing outside of Y/n’s flat, avoiding the topic in its entirety.

Jamie swallowed, his eyes bouncing around her face looking for any cracks in her exterior. She wasn’t budging.

“Yeah,” he relented, “Okay.”

The conversation had scared Y/n enough, she was terrified to face Jamie in all her uncertainty about him. What truly made her afraid was the hesitation in Jamie’s eyes, the new tenderness in which he looked at her with. The possibility that he knew exactly what he felt. Y/n couldn’t handle any of it.

“So…we’re good,” she faked a smile, it didn’t reach half her face.

“Yeah,” Jamie’s whole body seemed to be caving in on itself. His tall posture had become lazy, his head drooped with resignation, “We’re good.”

In the space between them rested everything they weren’t saying, creating an ever thicker silence.

“I’ll, uh,” Jamie briefly pointed down the street, “Guess I’ll see ya at work.”

“Yeah,” Y/n tried to sound cheery, “See you.”

With clear hesitation, the two of them walked past one another, Jamie toward the road and Y/n to her door.

“Wait,” Y/n called, slipping her key in the lock and popping inside.

Jamie stayed on the sidewalk, his eyes tracing the stairs past the door. He’d never not been invited in.

Y/n crossed back over the threshold, holding a folded piece of grey fabric in her hand. She held it out to Jamie.

“I, uh,” she stammered, “I’ve been meaning to get this back to you.”

Jamie unfolded it to find it was one of his shirts. In their drunken stupor, he must have given it to her to sleep in. The crack developing in his chest deepened.

“Great,” he quickly covered, balling the top up and nodding gratefully.

“I washed it,” Y/n added.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jamie replied, he didn’t even know what he was saying. They’d crossed some new line of intimacy and it was killing him. If nothing more was going to come from them talking, he needed to leave. “I’ll see ya.”

Y/n’s breath caught as Jamie hastily descended her front steps and walked off into the night. He didn’t look back.

Entering her apartment and shutting the door, Y/n felt like she’d just laid a part of herself to rest. Simultaneously, a piece she’d long thought dead was blooming back to life. Neither one settled her.

Allowing herself to feel…something…for someone was the great mile marker she never dared to cross. It was one thing to get coffee with Keeley or go out clubbing with the team. It was a whole other arena to let someone to see her most vulnerable self. To give someone your best, your worst, and everything in between. To trust someone that much…

Y/n knew she could never let someone in that far, and that it had been a mistake to let Richmond in at all.

She sat down on her staircase, pulling her knees to her chest. She could never come so close to losing her sanity again. Whether she liked it or not, everything had to be different going forward.

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[alipeeps]

Episode 21

As I suspected.. while the gang were having an emotional catharthis about Bai Jiu's mum... Chongwu Camp turned up to hunt for Wen Xiao.

Ayyy my boy Bai Jiu, all is forgiven. Yeah, you stand up to that scheming git who manipulated a grieving teenager.

Ugh I want to stab him.

What kindness? You took him in because you knew you could manipulate and use him! Listen to Zhuo dage, Xiao Bai!

What does he want the arrow for? Is he gonna... try to remove/obscure the Chongwu tattoo?

Called it.

My fucking heart!!

Go Zhuo Yichen!

Did she just... fucking snatch that arrow out of the air and fire it back at them:?!!

Is that what Wen Zongyu has been doing with his demon blood experiments? Creating demonised humans? His own personal army of demon-human hybrids? Can't imagine the prime minister (RIP) or king would be too happy if they knew about that...

Oh SHIT the one word spell doesn't work on them?!!

Oh FUCK the arrows are demonised too?!! That's why the one Sijing fired back at them killed the archer but her other shots didn't.

It's got fucking backwards-angled barbs along the shaft too! Bastards!

Is Zhao Yuanzhou gonna step in front of Wen Xiao and take an arrow for her?

Nope he caught it...

PLEASE tell me him getting cut by the demonised arrow is not going to count as the final step in sealing his 5 senses?!!

FUCK IT!! I KNEW IT!!

How many times did I say last ep that he needed to get at least 1 of his other 4 senses unsealed so that he wasn't vulnerable to having his last sense sealed? Why does nobody listen to me?!! 😂

Ohhh shiiiit the ever-burning fire will start to burn him if his senses are sealed?

Uhoh... fucking red haze incoming?

God I love how his pupils keep flickering between red and not!!

Congrats Wen Zongyu, you dumbass. You said a demon's inner core has a consciousness... with his senses sealed, his core's consciousness has taken over... but isn't his core basically made up of/controlled by malicious qi?

You had no idea what you were fucking with you goddamn dumbass!!

Aaaaand now he's loose in the mortal world, controlled by malicious qi.

Ugh and the visual of his bottle - the one from which he drinks to help keep the malicious qi suppressed - abandoned and left behind...

Aaand the gang is arrested.

God I love her...

Oh mannn... so he'll have retreated to the house where he barricades himself inside after each blood moon?

Oooh Zhu Yan vs his own demon core. This'll be where that clip from the trailer comes from then...

Yup, there it is.

How is it even possible that is the same damn actor? He looks like a totally different person!! 😍

Oh shit he's literally using visualisations of his relationship with Wen Xiao to fend off the visualisation of his demon core...

God I love this fucking song so much.

Our boy Ying Lei is tracking the shapeshifter demon.

Uhhh... noooo... Ying Lei... that's not Zhuo daren. Zhuo daren is in prison. And you're tracking a shapeshifter demon, Ying Lei. A shapeshifter demon. Ying Le? Hello?

He's such a fucking dork. I'm love him.

This has to be Xiao Bai having a nightmare, right? Cos they all got captured and put in prison. He's not following Zhuo Yichen through a forest...

Or is it not a dream? Did they only arrest Wen Xiao and Pei Sijing?

Ugh he hesitates to hold onto his braid... so Zhuo Yichen straight up offers it go him and tells him he can!

Because it's not fucking Ying Lei, Xiao Bai...

Ok so they definitely did only arrest the girls (rude!) and that explains why Ying Lei wasn't surprised to find Zhuo Yichen appear while he was hunting down the demon... the 3 of them went to hunt her together.

Uuuh you ran off so fast you left Xiao Bai behind, Zhuo Yichen!

And how's he supposed to know if anyone who comes up to him is who they seem to be, or if it's Ao Yin?

Ooops!

Dudes... my dudes... what if the Ao Yin in this scenario is actually... Xiao Bai?

How could he make a demon obey him? Because he's been sodding experimenting on them for at least 8 years!!

But yes.. well done Sijing, this particular demon was working with Li Lun!

Uhhhh is he though? You were still in Li Lun's illusion when he died?

Oh SHIT... and surely if he had died the illusion would have immediately dissolved? Which would mean he very much DIDN'T die.. and just faked you out with an illusion of him burning up!!

EXACTLY!!

Ru-roh Shaggy!!

Hahahaa the way he ducks away from Ying Lei's pat on the head - and then actively seeks one from Zhuo Yichen!!

Jeez, callous much? Also? Fuck you!

You tell him Sijing!!

AND WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS THAT?!! YOURS!!

You made this happen!! All so you could get your precious fucking ever-burning wood!!

Point of order though... why did he wear that dumb mask for so long? Like.. who did he need to be hiding his face from other than us, the audience? There was no need for him to hide who he was from Chongwu Camp?

Don't you fucking stick that needle in my girl, you fucker!!

Hahahaaa Ying Lei is soliciting head pats too!! These dumbasses!!

Oh my god poor Zhuo Yichen!

Saved by Bai Jiu!

His double-take from.. "Thank goodness you're here!" to "Why are you here!"

Zhou Yichen she's a fucking SHAPESHIFTER!!

Why are they so fucking stupid?

Oh ffs didn't Ying Lei warn you about this Zhuo Yichen?!!

Aaaaand that's where it ends.

Ngl that whole sequence annoyed me. They KNOW she is a shapeshifter, why did they keep getting taken in every time she pretended to be someone they know?!

[byeaaram]

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)

Summary: In which death welcomes you in the cruelest way possible, and your girlfriend suffers the same fate. You don't know which hurt more.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death, Light Depictions of Violence, Reincarnation, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, OOC Wednesday Addams(?)

Notes: I don't usually write, but I couldn't get this out of my head. Maybe I'll start to use this space whenever I have an idea. I'm a sucker for reincarnation. Term dictionary at the end.

***

Your vision was tunneling in on you. 

It was a grueling battle. You had fought relentlessly for the place you had called home for years, as it crumbled and shook, threatening to destroy the very core of the Earth with its last gasp.

Droplets of blood cascaded down your face, while your fingers twitched in defiance of your failing body. Amidst the chaos, a voice called out to you, though it sounded distant and muffled. Your senses were drowning, as if struggling to grasp onto the fading presence of your girlfriend, whose lingering sensation barely registered.

Oh. Oh.

Wednesday. Weakly, you called out to her, your voice barely a whisper, as you stretched your trembling hand in a desperate attempt to grasp her attention. To your relief, your plea bore fruit, as she held onto you tightly, her grip firm, and with nimble strength, she pulled you into the shelter of her chest.

“Perdóname, cara mia, for I did not protect you with all my might. I failed you, and now I‘ll have to lose you to whom they call death.” 

Despite her habitual speech that rang through your surroundings, you sensed a break in her tone, one that felt unfamiliar too, as Wednesday Addams never cries. “W-Wednesday…?” 

With a trembling hand, you reached out once more for her hand, desperate for any connection in this moment of turmoil. As your fingers intertwined, you flinched at the unexpected warmth that greeted you, a stark contrast to the usual cold touch of your beloved's hands. Pulling your hand back, you mustered a gasp, realizing that your vision was now clouded by a crimson hue. 

Through the haze, you finally gazed upon your girlfriend, searching for an explanation in her eyes. “W-Wednesday, you’re b-bleeding!”

It was then, you noticed Wednesday’s fallen figure. She too was slumped to the ground, her body twisted at an awkward angle. The room's dim light cast eerie shadows across her fragile form, adding an unsettling aura to the sight. Your heart skipped a beat as you reached to cup her cheek, a mix of concern and dread coursing through your veins.

Despite her failing systems, Wednesday managed to muster a faint smirk, her hands coated in blood finding their way back to yours. With a gentle touch, her thumb circled your hand. Even in the face of adversity, she remained steadfast, providing solace in her touch, despite the grim reality of her condition.  “I’m so sorry, mi sol, but I am horrified to tell you that the both of us are knocking at the reaper's door.” 

Summoning all her strength, she pulled you closer, her lips tenderly brushing against every edge of your face. The sweetness of her touch and the soothing scent of her presence enveloped you, momentarily calming the storm within your mind. With heartfelt reassurance, she consoled your fears, but the bitter irony of the situation overwhelmed you, causing a pathetic sob to escape your lips.

Fading fast, the two of you clung to each other desperately, as if refusing to allow even the tiniest sliver of space between your bodies. The thought of witnessing the look of defeat and anguish on her face was unbearable, as you dreaded the worst outcome. 

Fear gripped your heart, the dread of being torn apart from the girl you cherished above all else. It felt as if the universe was cruelly signaling its intention, delivering a heart-wrenching message that threatened to separate you forever.

The thought shook your entire world. 

A voice pulled you out of your distressed wake.

“Ma non temere, la mia rosa appassita; perché cercherò e distruggerò ogni fessura della Terra finché non ti troverò. Questo universo crudele non ha nulla a che vedere con il mio amore per te, questo è certo. La morte può attenderci, ma non mi separerà mai da te. Ti amo. Tu sei il mio tutto. Il mio sole. La mia luce. La mia rosa. Non abbiate paura.” 

Albeit not understanding a thing she said, you let out a watery laugh, pulling yourself closer and nuzzling your head at the crook of her neck. “…I l-love you too, Wednesday.” 

Time felt slower this way. You wondered, if this was not the end, would this have been your future? Would you have been here, in Wednesday’s arms under the circumstances? Is this how your mornings would start? She would cite a proclamation of her love, adorning the sweet, sweet smile you would mirror, and you would sigh in contentment at the start of your morning. 

You let out a shaky breath, molding yourself closer to your Wednesday’s body. Your eyes began to flit to a close, and before you let sleep consume you, you reminded yourself to wish your girlfriend goodnight. 

“…Wednesday… ‘m tired now. Gonna go sleep…”

You feel her chest shake. She lets out a sigh, “…I will see you soon, l'amore della mia vita.”

In the morning, you'd find the sight of a petite figure racing towards you. Whispers and cries of joy, calling your name, would escape from the most exquisite lips you've ever seen. As your eyes lock, a powerful gaze grounds you to the Earth, and delicate hands reach for yours, gently pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I found you.”

An underlying sense of familiarity greets you in a new life. 

***

Dictionary: Unfortunately, I do not know any other language other than English, so I used Google Translate for these terms.

"Perdóname, cara mia" (Spanish) - "Forgive me, my love"

"Mi sol" (Spanish) - "My sun"

"Ma non temere, la mia rosa appassita; perché cercherò e distruggerò ogni fessura della Terra finché non ti troverò. Questo universo crudele non ha nulla a che vedere con il mio amore per te, questo è certo. La morte può attenderci, ma non mi separerà mai da te. Ti amo. Tu sei il mio tutto. Il mio sole. La mia luce. La mia rosa. Non abbiate paura." (Italian) - "But fear not, my withered rose; for I will seek and destroy every crevice of the Earth until I find you. This cruel universe has nothing to do with my love for you, that's for sure. Death may await us, but it will never separate me from you. I love you. You are my everything. My sun. My light. My rose. Don't be afraid."

"l'amore della mia vita." (Italian) - "Love of my life."

[deadly-kalopsia]

guys okay so i saw a post that offhandedly mentioned tim having an ed elric arm and now i can’t stop thinking about an fma batfam au so here’s my little ideas bc yes.

so i’ve decided that tim is ed (obviously bc that’s what started this whole thing) and duke is al (bc he’s younger, i love him, and i need more of duke and tim being brothers) others that are relevant are: alfred is granny (obviously) bernard is winry (im a sucker for emt bernard)

right now what i’ve got is that tim and duke are trying to bring back bruce after he died (bruce being the one they’re bringing back might change depending on how closely i choose to follow fmas actual story) and they use a tainted lazarus pit to do it (does tim know that it’s tainted? your guess is as good as mine. it’s tainted due to gothams inherent radioactivity and general weirdness. i’m also aware this is not how the pits work but shhh, plot reasons)

they go to set bruce's body into the pit but it goes wrong and duke ends up slipping in, tims leg slips in, and he pulls himself out and realizes that duke is gone and begs for him back, not caring about the fact that his own leg is missing.

they're in one of ra's pit rooms so there's a plot relevant suit of armor sitting near by, tim hears a voice telling him to make the seal on the armor and then tim sticks his arm into the pit to grab duke(‘s soul?) and that's how he ends up losing his arm

duke regains consciousness in the suit and sees tim aggressively bleeding out and wraps him up in his cape to staunch it until he can get back and call for alfred

the pit is in gotham still and that's why it's so tainted because of all of the radioactive shit that goes on there

duke runs to the manor as fast as he can (which is so much faster now that he can't get tired) and collapses into the kitchen sobbing for alfred to help

alfred gasps and rushes tim down to the cave to begin the surgery to save tim and has duke call bernard to get him to come to the manor and help with the surgery. they barely get though it, but tim ends up surviving. mr spleenless obviously then makes things difficult and almost dies during recovery from an infection and during his feverish haze he just keeps crying out for duke and saying that he's sorry and then going between cursing gotham for being a bastard and then praising it

tim obviously barely lets himself heal before he’s starting to design prosthetics so that he can figure out how to get dukes body back (he doesn’t care if it takes his own, he just needs duke to be safe and whole again)

he figures out the equivalent of automail and makes bernard and alfred install it on him despite them begging him to stop and realize that he’s putting himself in incredible danger, he insists and they finally give in (he almost dies again from the installation and the subsequent infection)

alfred insists that it’s going to be a long and hard recovery, but tim is determined to do it in as little time as possible, he reaches out to some of the jl members and asks for help with healing, getting the recovery time down to just under a year (even with the jls help, this seems incredibly quick. they all decide to just take it at face value because it’s a miracle)

when asked what he meant when he was talking about gotham being a bastard and then switching to praising it, tim just went a little pale and then glanced at duke and then his own arm and brushed it off with a shaky voice

im not entirely sure how to work with the alchemy and/or equivalent, duke is already a meta so i’d make sense that he can use his current abilities as well as potentially understanding how to use alchemy if i go that way.

as far as it goes with tim, i think that he has enhancements, he is a little bit stronger, he heals just a little bit faster, he’s got more stamina, etc. but he’s also got something that no one else does.

he hears gotham. not all the time, but if gotham feels like teasing him or testing him, he hears her. while in gotham it’s almost as if he knows everything that’s happening. while on one of his first patrols back after the surgery with jason and duke, he stops dead in his tracks, completely tense and when the other two notice that he’s stopped they look back and him and he just stands there for a minute before shaking his head and backing up, telling them not to go that way, that it’s not safe and they need to leave. when jason starts to tease him to ask if he’s a scaredy cat, tim just shutters and grabs jason’s arm to haul him away.

they find out the next day that a massive shootout went down, along with the building they were about to walk into collapsing completely, everyone in the building (criminals, thankfully. no civilian injuries) crushed and dead. they ask tim how he knew and he just said that he had a feeling. they learn quickly to listen to what tim says when it comes to gotham.

if i do give them alchemy i think that it’ll be a surprise to everyone.

they’re in a fight, all of them for once, an arkham breakout. tim and damian are fighting near eachother while duke is across the room fighting with dick against some of the goons. tim glances over and watches as a goon takes out a gun and aims it at duke, tim is too far away, even dick, less than 10 feet away is too far, none of them will make it in time. tim will never know why he did it, but he shouted at duke and then clapped his hands together, shoving them on the ground, surrounding duke in a concrete orb, the bullet hitting the orb instead of the neck of dukes armor (his seal, if the seal gets broken, his brother is gone) like it was aiming for. as soon as tim clapped, it was like something clicked. he finally understood, it felt balanced, it felt equivalent. tim stood up and hit the goon who dare try and take a shot at his brother with his bo staff and knocked him out. once they had taken care of the rest of the goons, he clapped again and the orb surrounding duke falling back into place as if it had never been disturbed.

after being confused for a moment, seeing the others about to question tim on what the hell was that, duke chuckles and asks why tim bothered to surround him when he wouldn’t feel it anyway, he watched tim’s face fall before tim walked over to him and rested his forehead against the cool metal of dukes armor and whispers that he’s always going to protect him, and that it doesn’t matter if he can’t feel it it would still hurt, and that he’s so sorry for putting duke in this situation and he’s going to find a way to fix it he swears.

[heartilywrites]

♡ — Leaving tonight ; H. Callahan

cw: angst, but like, a bunch of that ; avengers: endgame strong references ; avengers: infinity war final battle reference just at the beginning ; spider!hazel; black widow!reader ; mention of death

word count: 2.8k

a/n: love me some angst, this is my post ~celebrating~ endgame happening canonically now, i just happen to remember we made spider!hazel a thing and i needed to write her in the mcu timeline. . . i made peter exist at the same time as haze because,,, why not? i think they would be best friends idk. anyways, hope you enjoy!

“ 𝓐ll alone, all we know, is haunting me. . . Making it harder to breathe. ”

⠀⠀Ever had that feeling that something is about to end very very bad? Great! That was the exact feeling everyone at the battlefield had, even the most optimistic person could be doubting about the conclusion of that fight. Yeah, you were winning against the army, but that gut wrenching feeling that it may all be in vain was there, haunting you.

You fought with everything in your system, but there wasn't really much to do as a Widow besides helping to stop the alien army and hope for the more powerful avengers to stop everything from the source: Thanos. . . And then you saw wakandians disappear in dust, your heart dropped to the ground when you realized what that meant and your feet were quick to run looking for Natasha.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, please, please.” you begged while your eyes began to accumulate tears.

You heard your name being shouted and were fast to recognize Natasha's silhouette running to you too. An almost crushing hug was what you received, after making sure neither of you were about to disappear you look to the scene next to you. 'Oh god' the captain's voice whispered in disbelief. You lost.

And that was just the beginning, once you arrived back from Wakanda you were fast to look for your friends only to find that Brittany was the only from your group still around, both of you cried as soon as you saw each other and hugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where's Hazel?” her voice asked, “I know she ran out the campus with you, didn't she?” your eyes widened.

Hazel. She and this other spider–dude went to fucking space as a stowaways when you clearly heard on the earpiece Tony's voice telling them to stay on New York, obviously neither of them listened even after your own scold while helping on the ground as much as you could.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'll be back, darling, I promise!” her voice in a robotic sound told you before losing signal with her.

You didn't know if she was alive anymore, but after the first couple weeks, you were beginning to accept the idea that she did dust away along with the other kid, Tony and the wizard dude. And you started to grief.

At least you were until one night in the compound an earthquake caught everyone's attention on a possible attack, curious your feet took you out of the building and in your visual field a spaceship appeared with a glowing woman directing it to the ground.

You were far behind from everyone, squinting your eyes to see a bit better your jaw almost fell to the floor to the sight of Tony coming down the stairs with a blue woman and. . . Wait.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hazel!” an exclamation came from you now running to help the girl, once again crying, but those were tears of relief. She hugged you tight as much as she could. “I thought I lost you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I thought I lost you.” she repeated back on a sob, once you pushed away you saw how bad she looked. “Oh my god, Steve shaved?”

At that question, you turned your face to the captain who was talking with Tony and frowned. “I guess. . .” once again, your eyes were back at her and a sniff was heard from both of you. “Fucking idiot, I'm confiscating your web–shooters everytime we see a spaceship.”

After laughing at your comment, she gave you a weak kiss, leaning on you after a bit and you guided her steps to the building.

They did a little meeting to get the ones on space to date, your teeth were biting your bottom lip trying not to cry at the pictures of those you called your friends that weren't around anymore.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We lost Peter.” Hazel whispered while watching the argument the two grown men had. She, just as Tony, were connected to an IV and you were on her other side holding her hand. “We lost everyone, we–.”

You calmly shushed her, your thumb was leaving caresses on her hand. “We did what we could.” you smiled weakly. “And we're going to do everything to get them back.”

And you were one to keep a promise.

The next thing the group did was trying to find Thanos, but you didn't had the right mind to go with them. You wanted to stay with Hazel and take care of her, so that's what you did; stay. You hugged Natasha while wishing them good luck, telling them to 'get that bitch's ass' as she laughed and assure you they were going to bring everyone back. . .

But then, 5 years went by.

As soon as they got back, everyone took their own way. Defeated, neither of you needed to ask what had happened, because their faces said it all.

Once Hazel got better, both of you decided to move on, try to have a normal life. Kept studying at collage with Brittany, the three of you grew closer together. Deep down you knew things really won't be back as they were, missing Josie, Isabel and PJ became something constant like breathing; the first two years you usually went to the compound to train with Nat, but after that you started to drift away from the avengers to continue with your life, she didn't stopped you at that.

Sure, you did missions once in a while, but it wasn't as much as you did before the events. Your relationship with Hazel got serious and one night, she proposed to you. Obviously you said yes, you wanted to be with her for the rest of your life if it was possible, she had been your rock all those years in work, such as you were hers and it finally felt as the universe was trying to let you two rest at least a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We need you two, kid.” Rogers' voice was heard after his speech and a bit of silence, you were serving the dinner, passing a plate to him and one to your now fiancé, both of them smiled. “We need as many hands as possible.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I. . . I don't know, Mr. America.” Hazel was the first one to speak, you took your seat across from her.‍ “Our graduation is near, we're planning a wedding as well.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's our second chance, girls.” he said, his eyes moved from Hazel to you.‍ “Congrats on the wedding, by the way, but this is our only chance to get everyone back.”

Your eyes darted back to Hazel as she did the same.

Maybe you'll get your friends back, maybe they'll be here for the celebration. What else could you lose? It was something easy, he said, risky, but easy enough. Travel in time to the stones, take them to use them, bring everyone back and take them back as if they never left their timelines. Piece of cake, right?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you sure you want to do this?” Hazel asked you while saving both your and her suit in a bag.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you?” You shot back, raising a brow her way. You sighed and walk to her side of the bed.‍ ‍ “Haze, we can get them back. Have Josie, Isabel and PJ on our day, don't you want that?” Her eyes looked down to the bag.‍ “Didn't you say you wanted to have them as best women?”

She laughed and nodded slowly.‍ “Fine, but we're only helping with the stones, yeah? Once that's done we come back home, we still need to choose between daisies or jasmines.”

You nodded with a funny smile and gave her a tiny kiss.

Once in the compound it was explain how everything would go down, where the stones have been seen and who had them at that time. It took no more than two days to get the information in order and everyone did teams; yours was the one going to Vormir and Morag, the soul and power stones.

A pretty good speech, a couple of words exchanged and a promise to come back was said by everyone before everyone started to travel.

Arriving to Morag was quite the experience, you've never been to space so looking around was almost inevitable.

A scream was heard from Hazel before kicking. . . Something similar to a rat, you laughed while taking away the white suit, underneath that it was your well–known black suit, your fiancé had her classic one without the mask.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are we ready?” You said looking at your teammates, they nodded.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Good to go, kiddo.” Now it was your turn to nod. A small hug was received by the older man for the both of you. “Get the stone and comeback, no messing around, okay?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yes, dad.” Hazel said jokingly, after a bit she took your hand and started to walk towards the ship.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Take care of each other!” he exclaimed, you gave him a military salute followed by an 'aye aye, captain', the doors closed.

You both looked around the ship while walking to the pilot and co–pilot seat, once buckled up, the ship itself began the trip.

Your hand was holding tight to the seat, both laughing at the speed and colors, truly an experience worth living.

When arriving to Vormir, both of you looked shocked at such landscape. Nothing like we had on earth, you thought.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let's go, m'lady.” Hazel called for you, offering her hand, you took it with a smile. “Let's get this stone and go back home.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Easy work, we should've choose New York for a bit of a complicated level.” you said while walking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And miss the opportunity to come to space? Nuh–uh, maybe we should've changed planets with them.” she responded back. “This planet is way too dark, feels sad.”

A laugh fell from you mouth. Now infront of the big mountain in there, Hazel got the both of you up with webs, knowing it would take more time if you climbed the mountain.

Once at the top, you took your gun out for precaution and both sets of eyes inspected every corner they saw.

You heard a voice say your name and your father's name, at least you figured that was him since after the same voice pronounced Hazel and her father's name as a welcome later on, such jumpscare made you both be on guard ready to attack. Then you saw a. . . A man? with red face, floating. “Consider me a guide to you and all of those who seek the soul stone.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel before putting down the weapon, your fiancé never let down her guard. “Yeah? How do we get it then?” she asked, still a bit scared.

The entity floated in the middle of the two, you followed him to almost the edge. “What you seek lies in front of you,” he said while both heroes walked to see down. “In order to take the stone you must lose that what you love, an everlasting exchange.” you could feel how your heart dropped, turning back to see Hazel. “A soul for a soul.”

You walked a bit back to think about what was just said, sitting down on a rock in silence. “There has to be another way,” Hazel said after a couple of minutes in silence. “Or maybe he was joking.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don't really think so,” you responded blinking a couple of times. “Think about it, Haze; Thanos came here with his daughter Gamora, got the stone and left without her, that has to mean something.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Maybe he lost her somewhere else, how do we know he isn't making shit up and the stone is somewhere else?” Hazel stood up from the rock, clearly stressed at the situation.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “He knows my father's name. . . I don’t even know it, I don’t think he'll be guessing if I knew him or not.” now you stood up and took her hands. “If we don't get that stone, billions of people will stay dead. . .”

She nodded sighing. “Whatever it takes, right?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Whatever it takes.” you responded with low voice. Cutting distance with her, your lips met in a sweet kiss; one filled with sadness too knowing what was about to come, regret at the thought of accepting the mission, but calm at the thought of saving people. Once you pulled away, a smile showed on your face. “I love you, Hazel, remember that, yeah?”

The girl blinked confused at your words. “Did we just thought of different endings?” she shook her head, taking your arms. “Honey, you have the wrong idea.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hazel, please, let me do this.” you almost cried, taking a step back. “I promised you that, didn't I? We're going to do everything to get them back and this is how. After everything I've done. . . This is my way to redeem all the pain I caused.”

She didn't answer, in your distraction she pinned you to the floor while shaking her head. “No, you'll tell the girls I love them.”

You were quick to change positions and stand up while pointing at her with your electric gun. “Tell them yourself, Haze.” your voice defended before shooting her, seeing how the shock did its work at keeping her down you started to make your way to the edge.

Hazel was fast enough to remove the shot from her and sit up, when trying to use her right web–shooter she realized you had covered it, but not the left one so she changed hands and shot you on the ankles making you fall. With a curse coming out of your mouth, your hands were fast to get the small knife from your belt and cut the webs as Hazel was about to reach the edge.

You ran as fast as you could just as she jumped, hugging her and shooting a gadget which you attached to her was in matter of seconds. The mutant was fast to take your wrist.

The gadget was short, and it was right on her hip so she couldn't reach you with her other hand if she wanted to.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't do this, please, don't do it.” she pleaded, your hand was open so if she tried to shoot another web at you with the left shooter, she'll drop you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's okay.” you smiled at her, with quick hand you took away her left shooter. “Let me go, it's okay, I promise.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I can't, I need you, please, don't do this.” Even with her sight blurry from the tears, Hazel was able to see how calm you were.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you.” your voice breathed out one last time.

Taking impulse from the rock, your feet pushed you as Hazel's grip slipped and let your wrist go.

A bloody gut wrenching scream came out of her mouth, feeling how throat hurt from said action, a lightning took her away while she called your name.

Next thing she knew, she was on a pond lying down. Sitting down, on her left hand she could feel the stone, Hazel opened her hand and tears began to stream down her cheeks at the look of the yellow infinity stone. What was she going to say know? How can she show her face back home without you by her side?

It took a couple of minutes for her to find any strength to stand up and get back to her time, but as soon as she arrived to the circle, she felt again on her knees. Completely numb, hearing the other voices muffled celebrating and asking her about you once her knees made noise.

Natasha's voice brought her back, Callahan looked up to her, tears falling from her eyes silently, she couldn't bring herself to tell her how her apprentice sacrificed herself for the stone.

So you could only imagine how she felt once the whole team won over Thanos again and brought her friends back, only for them to ask for you after hugging her and thanking for bringing them back.

Your funeral was alongside Tony's, but Hazel didn't cried, she just stood silent watching at her own ring on her hand, sitting on the stairs of the cabin.

Brittany was the one who sat next to her when she realized she wasn't inside with everyone else, they both were in complete silence.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You know. . .” she finally talked after hours of silence, hoarsely. “I just. . . I hope she knows that we did it. That we won.”

Brittany looked at her, compassionate at the way she was feeling. “She knows.” she said, passing one arm on her shoulders, Hazel leaned her head on her friend letting a couple of tears leave her eyes. “I'm sure she does.”

[somber-sapphic]

Loved your latest Carina fic! Can I request a reversal where Carina shows up to work at the clinic to find Maya sick and refusing to go home despite everyone telling her to. Maybe including “I sneezed twice, is that a crime?” “Baby, I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you look like shit” and “It's chaos here. I can't just stop working because I have the sniffles.”  🫶🏼

Switching Things Up

〖Summary: After receiving multiple calls to come get her wife, Carina goes down to the station to drag her home.〗

〖Word Count: 500〗

〖Pairing: Carina x Sick Maya〗

〖Notes: I had a lot of fun with this! I don't usually write sick Maya so I hope I did the character justice. Also I'm running out of title ideas (again), can you tell?〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“It’s chaos here. I can’t just stop working because I have the sniffles. Who the fuck organized this?” Maya scoffed, frantically sifting through a stack of messy papers. She was searching for something, probably for an incident form that she had been rambling about when Carina walked in. There had been a mishap with a disoriented patient earlier, from what she could gather Jack had been hit but she wasn’t pushing. 

“It’s because you have the “sniffles” that you need to stop working,” She put air quotes around the word sniffles, emphasizing just how stupid that sounded given Maya’s current condition. “You are not at 100%, you’re missing things. Careless mistakes in medicine harm patients.” 

In any other situation, she wouldn’t have come out swinging like that, she would have tried to take a more gentle approach and chosen her words carefully but she was at her wit's end. Every member of Station 19 had called her, each one begging her to come get Maya. 

Some had been nice about it, Ben phrased it as a suggestion whereas Andy and Vic were demanding. Andy was similarly worried about patient safety and Vic was worried about herself. The ranting voicemail had been interesting, her loudly whispered words containing more expletives than Carina had ever heard from the leader of Crisis One. If it hadn’t been about her wife’s health she would’ve found it funny. 

“I sneezed twice, is that a crime?” The firefighter snapped, whirling around to glare at Carina. The brunette raised an eyebrow in challenge and studied Maya’s sweaty face. She hadn’t gotten a good look at her wife - it’s hard to see the face of someone you’re chasing - but her complexion wasn't too far off from that of a corpse. 

“Bambina, I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you look like shit. You’re burning up, you’re too sick to be here. Let’s go home, I’ll make you pastina and you can watch whatever you want on the TV, even those horror movies you like. Please, Maya, you’re swaying.” 

Carina reached out and took her wife’s shoulders, holding her in place. She could feel the fever burning through Maya’s shirt and up close it was easier to the haze of confusion in her eyes. 

“What did you come in here looking for?” Carina asked, cupping her flushed cheek in a soft hand. Maya blinked, her brow crinkling as she tried to think. Her mask slipped slightly, allowing the doctor to see her true vulnerability. 

“I…I don't…” She trailed off, sudden tears building in her eyes. The fast switch of emotions was telling and arguably more concerning than the fever. To make Maya come even close to tears she must have been feeling worse than Carina originally thought.

“It’s okay Maya. Let's go home, your team can take care of everything here, let me take care of you.”

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