#its funny and there are lots of tongue and cheek moments but the work as a whole is meant to be taken seriously

[jhyoos]

Of Roses And Steel

chapter three : stay in your place

knight sevika x princess reader

mentions : royalty au, medieval au, romance, vi was mentioned for a reason, jealous sevika, annoying mel, light smut, silco being a ally, drama filled, vi being the 3 fs: flirty, funny and fuckable, another long chapter

notes: wrote this right after chapter two 🤭

↲ previous chapter

You woke up to the soft, warm sensation of your cub’s tongue gently licking your face. Groaning slightly, you opened your eyes to find his fluffy form hovering over you, his bright eyes watching you expectantly. “Good morning,” you murmured, reaching up to scratch his head. “I really need to name you,” you added with a small laugh. He leaned into your touch before curling up against your chest, a soft purr rumbling from him as his warmth enveloped you.

Last night lingered in your mind like a fever dream—vivid and inescapable. You replayed every moment over and over, wondering what might have happened if things had escalated further, or if Sevika had uttered those three words you so desperately longed to hear: I love you. Closing your eyes again, you tried to let sleep claim you once more, but your thoughts betrayed you, pulling you deeper into the haze of unanswered questions.

Your moment of reprieve was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a voice announcing the arrival of your maids, perfectly punctual as always. With a tired sigh, you sat up in bed and called out, “Come in…”

The door opened, and a flurry of activity followed as your maids bustled in. “Can we bring my pet his breakfast?” you asked, gesturing toward the cub, who now sprawled lazily on the bed. “Just bring a few cuts of raw meat—any kind will do.” One maid nodded and quickly exited the room, while the others began attending to your morning routine.

As you stood, the maids gently guided you toward the vanity. They worked quickly, their hands deftly brushing through your unraveled hair and preparing you for the day ahead. One of them hesitated, her gaze catching on the faint bite mark adorning your neck. “Are you all right, my lady?” she asked carefully, her tone laced with genuine concern.

You touched the spot instinctively, your cheeks warming as you hastily replied, “Oh, yes, I’m fine. He likes to bite a lot,” referring to the cub as you fabricated the excuse. The maid raised an eyebrow ever so slightly but said nothing, though you could sense her curiosity lingering.

Finally, the maids brought out the gown for the day—a breathtaking creation that sparkled like the morning dew. The dress was a masterpiece of intricate detail, its halter neckline plunging gracefully to highlight the delicate curves of your frame. The bodice was adorned with elaborate silver filigree, curling like vines in an enchanted forest, with an ornate key-like centerpiece resting elegantly between your collarbones.

The skirt of the gown cascaded like a shimmering waterfall, its sheer fabric embroidered with glistening beads and sequins that caught the light with every movement. Tiny floral appliqués adorned the train, adding a touch of whimsy to the regal elegance of the design. As the maids secured the gown in place, its ethereal beauty made you feel like you had stepped out of a dream.

Standing before the mirror, you couldn’t help but admire the way the dress hugged your figure, the light playing off its embellishments and giving you an otherworldly glow. The maids adjusted the final details, their hands brushing against the delicate fabric as they ensured every part of the ensemble was perfect.

As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror, a look of confusion crossed your face. This wasn’t the kind of gown you usually wore���ornate and dazzling, designed to captivate. You turned toward your maids, your brows furrowed. “What’s the occasion?” you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

One of the maids stepped forward with a gentle smile. “The kingdom of Piltover is coming, my lady. The king wanted you to shine,” she explained, her tone full of reverence.

You blinked, taking in her words and glancing back at your reflection. The gown’s intricate silver detailing and sparkling embellishments made you look radiant, almost celestial. It was a deliberate choice, meant to make an impression.

Satisfied with their work, the maids gathered their things and began to file out of the room, their movements quiet and efficient. One, however, returned shortly after, carrying a small bowl filled with cuts of raw meat. She placed it carefully in front of your cub, who immediately perked up at the sight of his breakfast.

“Thank you,” you said softly, offering her a kind smile. The maid bowed low before retreating, leaving you alone with your cub, who was now happily devouring his meal.

You watched him for a moment, his small frame hunched over the bowl, his soft fur glowing faintly in the morning light. As you observed him, a thought struck you—a name, simple yet fitting.

“Eros,” you said aloud, your lips curving into a smile. The cub paused briefly, his ears twitching at the sound of your voice, before returning to his meal. “That will be your name,” you decided, feeling a sense of satisfaction at finally giving him an identity.

The name lingered in the air as you watched him eat, your mind momentarily at ease despite the day’s looming responsibilities.

A sharp knock echoed through your chambers, drawing your attention to the door. You tilted your head, curiosity flickering in your gaze. “Come in,” you called out, your tone neutral. The door creaked open, and standing there was Mel.

You let out a quiet sigh, rolling your eyes at the sight of her. Whatever she wanted, it couldn’t possibly improve your mood.

“I apologize for last night,” she said, her tone soft but hesitant. Her eyes roamed over your gown before she added, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“I always do,” you replied coolly, adjusting the fabric of your gown. Your words were sharp and dismissive, but there was a faint air of satisfaction at her acknowledgment. “And I forgive you—only for Sevika’s sake. And so I don’t have to go through explaining to my father why I would have to send you back to Noxus.”

Mel’s lips pressed into a thin line before she dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Follow me out of my chambers, please,” you instructed, turning toward the door without another glance at her. “We have to meet the King of Piltover.”

Mel nodded, silently falling into step behind you as you strode toward the door. The two guards stationed there straightened at your approach, their armor gleaming in the light. They fell into formation as you exited, shadowing your every step.

Pausing briefly in the hallway, you glanced at one of the servants waiting nearby. “Please have someone check on my cub every hour and ensure he’s all right,” you instructed.

“Yes, ma’am,” the servant said with a respectful bow before hurrying off.

With that, you straightened your posture, your chin lifted with regal grace. The day was far from over, and there was much to do—but as always, you intended to handle it with the poise expected of you. With Mel trailing behind and your guards flanking you, you made your way toward the grand hall where the King of Piltover awaited.

The grand doors to the throne room creaked open, revealing a scene of splendor and familiarity. King Vander sat on a gilded chair at the head of the room, his presence commanding yet warm. Around him were his sons and daughters, their faces lighting up as they caught sight of you. These were friends you’d grown up with, companions from childhood whose bonds you still cherished despite the years apart.

Your eyes swept across the room, noting that your father was not yet present. Instead, Sevika’s unmistakable figure caught your attention. She was lounging in a chair near the corner, her legs man-spread with that air of casual dominance she always exuded. Her relaxed posture made her look untouchable, her sharp gaze scanning the room before briefly landing on you.

You didn’t linger on her for long, but it seemed Mel had. Before you could speak, Mel veered off toward Sevika, her footsteps quick and purposeful. You noticed the way her lips curled into a smile as she approached, but you chose not to acknowledge them. Instead, you continued further into the room, your attention shifting when a hand gently rested on your arm.

You turned your head, finding yourself face to face with Vi. Her short pink hair was tousled as always, and her confident smile brought an instant wave of nostalgia.

“Good morning,” you said, offering her a warm nod. “I didn’t see you at the tournament.”

Vi grinned, a little sheepishly, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I was out taking care of some things,” she replied before her expression softened. “Gosh, you look even more beautiful than you did all those years ago.”

Her words made your lips curl into a soft smile. “I would say the same about you,” you said, meeting her gaze. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other—since we were children.”

Vi chuckled softly, her hand on your arm lingering before she moved it to your cheek. Her touch was light, almost hesitant, and her thumb brushed against your skin gently. “I’m glad to see you again,” she said, her voice lower now, more intimate.

Her closeness and sincerity brought a flutter of warmth to your chest, but before you could respond, the sound of a loud laugh from one of Vander’s sons broke the moment, drawing both your attentions back to the room. You smiled, grateful for the distraction as you slipped away from Vi’s touch, though her presence remained close, a reminder of the bonds that never truly faded with time.

Your father entered the room with a warm smile, his face lighting up as he spotted Vander. The two men shared a hearty laugh before pulling each other into a bear hug, the kind that only old friends exchanged.

"My brother," Silco greeted, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

“It’s been far too long,” Vander replied, his tone just as affectionate.

“I’ve arranged an outdoor gathering in the garden,” Silco said, gesturing toward the sprawling grounds outside. “You’ll have to see it—it’s stunning this time of year. And, well, I thought it might spare you all from the misery of the cold you have back in Piltover.”

“Sounds perfect,” Vander agreed with a grin.

The garden was breathtaking, illuminated by soft golden string lights that cast a warm glow against the night sky. Tables adorned with delicate floral arrangements and elegant snacks were set up, inviting guests to indulge. The scent of fresh blossoms mingled with the crisp evening air, creating a serene yet lively atmosphere.

You wandered through the garden, a drink in your hand, observing the festivities around you. Laughter and chatter filled the air as nobles and their families mingled, their faces alight with joy. Even Mel and Sevika, who were deep in conversation by the fountain, seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Deciding to keep your distance from your ladies-in-waiting, you gravitated toward quieter corners of the party. Noblewomen and gentlemen approached you now and then, offering compliments and pleasantries that you returned with practiced politeness. But as the evening wore on, the constant interactions began to drain you.

Eventually, you slipped away, finding solace in the hallway just outside the garden. The dim lighting and gentle hum of the distant festivities provided a peaceful reprieve. You leaned against the flower-covered wall, letting out a soft sigh as you closed your eyes.

Your moment of solitude was interrupted by the familiar sound of boots on the stone path. Opening your eyes, you saw Vi approaching, a bottle of alcohol in hand. Her pink hair was slightly tousled, and her grin was as mischievous as ever.

“What’s this for?” you asked, eyeing the bottle she held out to you.

“To drink, beautiful,” Vi replied with a playful smirk, popping the bottle open. She poured a generous amount into your glass before taking a swig straight from the bottle herself.

You raised the glass to your lips, taking a cautious sip. The sharp taste made your face scrunch in displeasure, earning a hearty laugh from Vi. She was clearly used to drinking—her lack of reaction to the alcohol proved it.

“You’re not funny,” you said, though a small smile tugged at your lips as her laughter continued.

An hour later, the bottle was empty, and the two of you were sitting by the lake, far from the noise of the party. The gentle lapping of water against the shore served as the perfect backdrop for your conversation. You both laughed as you reminisced about childhood memories, the weight of adulthood momentarily lifted.

“I still remember the time we kissed,” Vi said suddenly, her tone softer now.

You smiled at the memory, the warmth of it spreading through you. “I remember it too. You were my first kiss…and my first girl kiss,” you admitted with a shy laugh.

Vi leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d love to kiss you again.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you smiled, meeting her gaze. “I’d love to kiss you too.”

She cupped your cheek gently, her touch warm and steady as she leaned in. Her lips met yours in a passionate kiss that sent a thrill through you. You responded in kind, placing a hand on her shoulder as the kiss deepened.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but smiles lingered on your faces. “Gods, how I’ve missed you,” Vi murmured, her voice full of emotion.

Before you could respond, she leaned in again, this time pushing you gently onto the grass. Her kisses grew more fervent, and you found yourself lost in the moment, your hands tangling in her hair.

The moment shattered as the sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the air. You and Vi pulled away from each other quickly, your heart sinking as you looked up to see Sevika standing there. Her expression was unreadable, her sharp eyes flicking between you and Vi before she finally spoke.

“Your father is asking for you,” she said, her voice calm but firm as her gaze settled on you.

“Right…” you mumbled, quickly standing and brushing off your dress to compose yourself. “I’ll see you later, Vi.”

Vi nodded, her mischievous grin softening as she looked up at you. “Later, beautiful,” she said, her voice low and playful.

As you walked away, Sevika fell into step behind you. The tension between you was palpable, and it didn’t take long before Sevika’s voice broke the silence.

“Is this your way of moving on? Kissing some random girl?” she said, her tone laced with irritation.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face her with a glare. “Vi isn’t just some random girl. She was my first kiss, and she’s a princess. If I wanted to, I could marry her,” you said firmly. “And what business is it of yours? You seemed perfectly content with Mel today.”

Sevika scoffed, crossing her arms. “Mel and I were just talking. Don’t turn this on me.”

Your jaw tightened, but you said nothing more. The weight of her words hung heavily between you as the two of you reached the garden party.

Silco spotted you almost immediately, his piercing gaze softening as he extended a hand to you. You stepped forward, taking it with a small smile. “What’s wrong, Father?” you asked.

“Nothing, my dear,” he replied, his tone warm and reassuring. “I just wanted to see you. How are you enjoying the party? Have you had a chance to speak with Vi and Powder yet?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, keeping your voice measured.

Silco studied you for a moment before asking, “And what do you think of Vi? Would she make a good suitor for you?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his question, though you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Oh… so that’s what this is about,” you said softly, glancing away. “I don’t know, Father. I’ve talked to her, but I haven’t seen her in years. I’d need time to get to know her again.”

Silco nodded thoughtfully, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “Of course, that’s only fair. But you have all night to spend with her before she has to leave.”

“That’s not enough time,” you said honestly. “But… I could write to her after, if that would make you happy.”

Silco’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Of course, my child. That would be a fine start.”

You nodded, your mind still swirling with thoughts of Vi, Sevika, and the complex feelings tangled up between them. The night was far from over, but you could already feel its weight pressing on you.

The pounding in your head and the haze of alcohol clouding your thoughts made the decision impossible to face right now. You needed to return to your chambers and clear your mind. Without the usual accompaniment of guards, you made your way back alone, your steps unsteady but purposeful.

When you entered your room, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated a maid tending to Eros, who lay fast asleep in his bed. The cub was on his back, paws in the air, his round belly exposed—a clear sign he’d been well-fed and was completely content. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Thank you,” you murmured to the maid. She nodded, gathered her things, and left quietly, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the rhythmic sound of Eros’s gentle breathing.

You sat down at your vanity, resting your head in your hands as you tried to sober up, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. The quiet didn’t last long, though, as your door suddenly creaked open.

“Gods, what’s with people barging into my r—” you began, lifting your head, but your words caught in your throat when you saw Sevika standing in the doorway.

Her gaze was intense, her shoulders squared as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “Did you do that on purpose? Trying to make me jealous?” she asked, her voice low and cutting straight to the point.

You stood up, gripping the back of your chair as you stared at her in frustration and confusion. “What?” you asked, your tone sharp.

But before you could say more, Sevika crossed the space between you in a heartbeat, her hand sliding to the back of your neck as she pulled you into a fierce, passionate kiss. Her lips were commanding, her touch electric, and you couldn’t help but melt into the moment. Your hands instinctively pressed against her chest as you kissed her back, your body responding to her closeness.

Sevika’s grip on you didn’t waver as she lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of your vanity. Her hands moved to your dress, lifting it slightly, but before things could go any further, you reached out and stopped her.

“Sevika…you’re confusing me,” you said, breathless, your hands trembling slightly as you met her gaze.

She let out a deep sigh, pulling back and settling into the chair in front of you. She leaned back, her legs spread wide, her elbows resting on her knees. Her usual confidence seemed to falter as she looked up at you. “I know…I’m confused myself,” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “My father asked me to consider marrying Vi,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t know what to do. I can’t marry someone I don’t know if I love yet…but I know I love you, Sevika.”

Her jaw tightened at your words, her brows furrowing as she leaned forward slightly. “Then why were you kissing Vi if you love me?” she asked, her tone edged with hurt.

Your chest tightened at the question, guilt flashing across your face. “You were with Mel,” you replied defensively. “You still are. She asked, and I accepted it. What was I supposed to do?”

Sevika sighed, leaning back and placing a hand on your thigh. Her touch was warm, grounding, but her words cut deep. “You know me and you can’t get married,” she said, her tone steady but filled with a painful truth. “I belong to you, to your father, to this kingdom. I can’t promise I’ll always be here. What happens when I leave for good? What happens when I don’t come back? You’re too fragile…too weak to handle that.”

Her words struck you like a blow, but you said nothing, knowing deep down she was right. The thought of her leaving—of never returning—was unbearable.

“So,” she continued, her voice softening just slightly, “you should marry Vi. She seems to like you, even if she is…a drunk.”

“She’s not a drunk,” you said quickly, frowning. “She’s just…way too carefree.”

“Right…” Sevika muttered, pushing herself to her feet. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, her expression unreadable. “From now on, I won’t bother you. I apologize for barging in and kissing you like that.”

Before you could say anything, before you could process her words, Sevika turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind her. The room felt emptier without her, the silence heavy as you sat there, torn between the choices laid before you and the ache in your chest Sevika’s absence left behind.

The next morning began like any other. The maids were already bustling around your chambers, preparing your dress and accessories as you sat quietly, letting them do their work. Eros, your beloved cub, had his breakfast first as always, his tiny paws clutching his food with delight. You smiled softly at the sight, though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. Once he was done, you picked him up in your arms. His soft fur and warm presence were a small comfort as you made your way to the throne room.

You were informed earlier that Vander and his children had departed at dawn to begin their long journey back. You were a little sad about Vi going so early. Not getting to say goodbye. The memories of last night were still raw, and it was something you couldn’t get out of your head.

The guards opened the doors to the throne room, revealing its usual lively atmosphere. Voices carried across the grand hall as nobles and servants alike mingled, sharing news and gossip. You walked with poise, nodding politely at those who greeted you, until you reached your ladies-in-waiting.

“Good morning,” you said to them, settling into your lounge chair with Eros nestled comfortably on your lap. His soft purring helped ease the tension in your chest as you listened to the chatter around you.

The gossip was lively today, full of intrigue and speculation about recent guests and political alliances. You smiled faintly, losing yourself in the distraction until something—or other someone—caught your attention.

Mel.

She strode into the room with a radiant smile, her golden complexion glowing as she approached your group. You stiffened, your grip tightening slightly on Eros as her eyes met yours briefly before turning to the others.

“Good morning, ladies,” Mel said cheerfully. Then, without hesitation, she dropped the bombshell. “Unfortunately, I am no longer a lady-in-waiting.”

There was a collective gasp, followed by murmurs of curiosity and confusion.

“Why?” one of the ladies asked, her voice laced with intrigue.

Mel’s smile widened as she held up her hand, revealing a sparkling ring. “Because I am now engaged to my beloved Sevika!”

The room erupted into cheers and congratulations, the ladies fawning over her and admiring the ring. Mel basked in their attention, her joy radiating in every gesture and word. But all you could do was sit there, frozen.

Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach as her words echoed in your mind. Engaged to Sevika. The air felt heavy, and the edges of your vision blurred as the pain settled in your chest.

Mel’s happiness was unbearable to witness, her grin brighter than the sun as she recounted the details of Sevika’s proposal. It was too much. Your legs moved on their own as you stood abruptly, Eros startled by the sudden motion.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the commotion. You didn’t wait for a response. You turned on your heel and left the throne room as quickly as you could, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

She had Sevika.

Your feet carried you to the nearest empty room, and once inside, you slammed the door shut and leaned against it, sliding down until you sat on the cold floor. The tears came fast, streaming down your cheeks as sobs wracked your body.

It felt as though your heart had been ripped out and torn apart piece by piece. The weight of it all crushed you—Sevika’s rejection and now Mel’s victory. You buried your face in your hands, the pain too much to bear.

When you finally mustered the strength to leave the room, the sight before you stopped you in your tracks. Standing in the hallway was your father, flanked by two guards. His sharp, observant eyes softened immediately when he saw the tears streaking your face.

“Angel,” he said gently, his voice filled with concern as he stepped closer. He reached out and used his thumb to wipe the tears still falling down your cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, your heart aching from all the emotions you were trying to suppress. “I’m just… stressed,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it cracked slightly. “Everything that’s happened this past week… I just had to let it out.” It was only a half-truth, but it was all you could manage.

Silco’s expression remained tender as he opened his arms. “Come here,” he murmured.

You didn’t hesitate, stepping into his embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around you, his hand cradling the back of your head, the dam broke again. You sobbed against his chest, your shoulders shaking as the week’s events overwhelmed you all over again.

“We’ll find who put that bear head in your room,” he said softly, his voice low and comforting as his hand stroked your hair. “I promise you, Angel. They’ll pay for it.”

His words, though meant to reassure you, only made you cry harder. The mention of the bear head—the harrowing reminder of the fear and violation you had felt—added another layer to your emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs, clutching the fabric of his coat as if it were the only thing grounding you.

“It’s okay to cry,” he said, his voice unwavering as he held you tighter. “You don’t have to apologize.”

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace soothed you, though the tears didn’t stop. For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his strength, feeling like a child again in the protective arms of your father.

You pulled away from your father’s embrace, sniffling softly as you tried to compose yourself. “I’m okay now,” you said, offering him a small, forced smile.

Silco cupped your face with both hands, his sharp gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel both safe and vulnerable. “Emotions are normal, Angel. Tears are meant to be shed,” he said firmly, his voice low but steady. “You’ll be a strong Queen. I taught you well.”

His words, laced with pride, soothed you. He let go of your face and adjusted his coat before turning on his heel, walking down the hall with his usual commanding presence. You stood there for a moment, watching him disappear, letting his words settle in your chest before taking a deep breath.

Turning back toward the throne room, you braced yourself and pushed open the doors. The lively buzz of conversation filled the air again, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of Mel’s voice as she intercepted you, her lips pulled into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I hope you’ll be happy for us, your highness,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you not allowing it.”

Your eyes narrowed instantly at her emphasis on the word "bear," and your stomach twisted. “You put the bear head in my room?” you asked sharply, keeping your voice low but laced with venom.

Mel tilted her head, her expression smug. “Took you long enough to notice,” she replied, feigning innocence while the mocking tone in her voice was undeniable.

You glared at her, letting your gaze sweep her up and down with barely veiled contempt. “I find it amusing,” you started, your tone calm but cutting, “that you’re trying to use Sevika against me. Especially since we’ve already had a very fun night together just a night ago.”

Mel’s smile faltered for a split second, her confidence momentarily shaken.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice but letting every word drip with malice. “Enjoy your little broken marriage while it lasts. Because soon enough, you’ll be back in Noxus with your mother, who’ll no doubt be disappointed in your whorish ways. And as for Sevika?” You smiled, leaning in slightly. “She’ll stay here. Because Sevika puts Zaun, and this kingdom, before someone like you. Take that to heart before you go flashing that ring around like it means something.”

Not giving her a chance to respond, you brushed past her, your head held high as you returned to your ladies. They quickly quieted as you approached, sensing the tension radiating off you.

“From now on,” you said firmly, turning to face them, “do not speak to Mel. She’s not one of us anymore.”

They nodded in unison, not daring to question you. You settled back into your seat with Eros on your lap, focusing on the gossip of your ladies once again, doing your best to ignore the knot of satisfaction and lingering anger that twisted in your chest.

Sevika soon entered the throne room, her tall figure commanding attention even in the lively atmosphere. Her sharp eyes immediately found Mel sitting alone in a corner, away from the ladies, who were now avoiding her. Sevika’s gaze shifted, landing on you. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you felt your stomach churn at the intensity of her expression.

She approached you with measured steps, bowing slightly as she stopped before you. “May I speak to you, your highness?” she asked, her tone formal and respectful, mindful of the public setting.

You hesitated but rose from your chair, gently placing Eros back on the couch before nodding. “Very well,” you replied curtly, following her as she led you out of the throne room.

The heavy doors closed behind you, but Sevika didn’t stop there. Her hand lightly grasped your arm as she guided you down the hall and into the nearby garden. Once she was sure no one else was around, she finally turned to face you.

“You need to let me explain,” she said, her voice low and urgent.

You crossed your arms, keeping your expression neutral. “You marrying Mel is none of my business,” you replied, your tone cold.

Her jaw clenched, and she ran a hand through her short hair in frustration. “I don’t want to marry her,” she admitted, her voice laced with bitterness. “Look at me—I’m not the marriage type of woman.”

“Then why are you doing it?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

She sighed, her broad shoulders slumping slightly. “Because I was pushed into it,” she said. “Mel came up to your father in front of the court this morning. She asked for his blessing, and he granted it right there. I had no choice but to put a damn ring on her finger.”

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “I could’ve told you myself that she’s crazy. She’s the one who hung that dead bear in my room,” you said, your voice rising slightly in frustration.

Sevika’s eyes widened slightly, the information clearly catching her off guard. “Mel did that?” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

“Yes,” you confirmed firmly. “You figure this out, Sevika. Her mother is an important ally, and if you mess this up, it won’t end well—for either of us,” you added, your tone softening slightly but still carrying a sharp edge.

Sevika bit her lip, her usual confidence visibly wavering as she stared at the ground. For the first time, you saw her look vulnerable, conflicted in a way that felt foreign for someone so composed.

After a long pause, she straightened her posture and gave a short, resigned nod. “Fine,” she said curtly before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving you alone in the quiet garden.

You stood there, the weight of her vulnerability and the tension between you both lingering in the air. The garden felt colder without her presence, but you refused to let it show as you took a deep breath, straightened your dress, and prepared to return to the throne room.

taglist (my shaylas ♡): @tinycherry0 @thesecondhandwoman @abbysleftbicepp @artfairyyyyy @bunninel @furrytaesss @savedforlaterr @veladeangl @5t4r1i9ht @imheadintothemountains @adora-moonshine @sevikasrightboob @80saturn @littlerainsprite @runawaybaby3 @rhian88 @athena-winters13

[itneverendshere]

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.

Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.

“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while. 

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. 

As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

[icequeenliafics]

Silco x Vander Part3

(Part 1 and 2 at the bottom)

“Told you”, he said, turning to face Vander. “Got the suitors lining up.”

A chuckle escaped Vander’s throat. “You call that a suitor?”

“A pathetic one, but he was interested, wasn’t he?” Silco shrugged. “Also, he most likely was the only person here drunk enough to miss the hunk of a man next to me.”

Vander smiled at that, moving closer towards Silco and wrapping one of his arms around his slim waist. “I’ll just have to keep you closer to me then”, he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Silco’s temple. “Make sure everyone knows you belong to me.”

Silco looked up at him, his head half resting against Vander’s massive shoulder. “Possessive much?”

But he didn’t make an attempt to free himself from Vander’s hold, he even relaxed further against him, one of his hands sliding on top of the one Vander had placed on the smaller man’s hip.

Vander should’ve felt embarrassed by the question, but he wasn’t. The truth was he’d always been possessive of Silco. Always keeping him close.

When Vander had to work a shift at the bar and Silco happened to be there too, he made sure the man would stay by the counter the whole evening, supplying him with drinks on the house and scaring off the guys that dared to even look at Silco the wrong way.

It was the same in the mines or on the streets or wherever; Vander always kept close to Silco, like a dog to its master.

So, instead of growing flustered at the question, Vander leaned down to Silco’s ear. “I’m just protecting what’s mine.”

And oh, was he pleased to feel the soft tremor that ran through Silco at those words. He felt slender fingers wandering up his left cheek, all the way into his hair. Silco tugged him closer, tipping back his own neck, so their lips were almost touching.

Vander found the man’s eyes heavily lidded and jumping between his eyes and lips. The light blue of Silco’s eyes seemed a whole shape darker now, pupils blown and his long lashes tickling Vander’s skin.

“You know”, Silco whispered, their breath mingling hot and moist between them. “I’ve never been good at sharing either.”

God, Vander was done for. He was convinced he could taste Silco on his tongue without their lips even touching. He pulled him closer, his arm easily encircling the other’s slim body. The tips of their noses touching now, there were only millimeters separating their lips.

Vander felt hot all over, like he was burning from the inside, head spinning and ears ringing as he leaned down to close the tiny gap between them.

“There you are!”, Felicia called, efficiently ruining the moment. “Lost you in the crowd, haha, I’m way too drunk, luckily Vika found me and- oh my god were you two about to kiss?!”

Vander felt Silco’s annoyed groan against his lips, before he turned to face their friend.

“What did it look like?”, he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He settled back against Vander, half of his back resting against Vander’s front. His arm was still around Silco’s waist.

“Finally!” Felicia cheered, bouncing on the spot. “Fucking finally! Hold me Vika, I’m gonna faint.”

Only now did Vander take a closer look at the woman accompanying her, and realized she looked familiar. She was tall with brown skin and black hair. Also, she was built like a tree trunk.

“I got you, birdy”, she said with a low chuckle, catching Felicia in her arms when she swayed backwards.

Vander knew he’d seen her before, but then again, he saw a lot of people during his shifts in the bar.

“I see you have made a new friend”, Silco said, and Vander could hear the smirk in his voice. “Sevika, was it?”

The woman gave a short nod of her head, before averting her eyes. She seemed almost embarrassed.

“Oh, you know each other?”, Felicia asked, eyes jumping between the two. “How?”

Silco’s chuckle sounded teasing. “Funny story”, he said, and the woman silently shook her head at him.

And finally it clicked.

Silco’s voice still sounded teasing. “But I’ll tell you another ti- “

“You’re the woman who hit on him because you mistook him for a girl!”, Vander blurted, eager to share his epiphany.

And again, the alcohol took all his social reading skills.

Sevika stared at him with big eyes, and he was sure to spot a light blush on her cheeks.

“AHAHAHAHAHAH!” Felicia threw back her head, laughing.

Sevika’s face turned a shade darker.

“Tactful”, Silco chuckled, flicking Vander against the arm.

“Sorry”, Vander said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Sevika glared at both of them, her arm still around Felicia.

“Don’t worry, Vika”, Felicia giggled, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “You’re not the first to make the mistake. When we were kids, the saleswoman at the local bakery once addressed him as ‘little miss’.” Another fit of laughter. “He cut his hair after that, because he felt offended.”

The story actually brought a smile to Sevika’s mouth.

“Thanks”, Silco said dryly. “Any more embarrassing stories you two want to share?”

Vander pressed an apologetic kiss to his temple.

"Oh, I have tons of stories", Felicia said with a bright smile on her face. "But they're not important now." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Who was the guy that ran away crying just now?"

Vander tightened his hold around Silco, placing his hand over his stomach, pretty much trapping him against his chest.

"An insect", Vander growled.

Silco chuckled softly, placing his own hand on top of Vander's.

"Drunk perv", he clarified. "Wanted to get in my pants."

Felicia frowned.

"Did you grab him by the nuts?", she asked.

"Yup."

"Press and twist?"

"You betcha."

A satisfied smile bloomed on her face, and she nodded her head in approvement. "I see, I have taught you well."

"You sure did", Silco said with a smile.

Felicia continued to blabber on, her tongue faster than the speed of light, but Vander didn't really listen anymore.

Silco's finger was absentmindedly tracing along his knuckles, the featherlight touch causing a tingling sensation to spread through Vander's entire body. He felt warm all over, like wrapped into a blanket. He was still slightly light headed from the beer, leaving him comfortably dizzy.

He felt good. He felt really good.

Vander moved so Silco's back was fully aligned with his chest. He rested his chin on Silco's head, wrapping both his arms around the man's middle. Silco simply readjusted his hold on Vander, lost in his conversation with Felicia.

This was nice, Vander thought, his eyes lidded and his vision swimming. He could keep standing here with Silco in his arms, listening to the sound of his friends' voices. He could keep standing here the whole night without complaining.

Silco and Felicia loved to share gossip. Vander had learned to block them out, their voices simply calming background noise.

He actually drifted off for a bit.

Until Silco shifted his weight slightly, stirring Vander from his doze. He kept his eyes closed, but listened back into the conversation.

"Did Connol and you fight again?", Silco asked, and Vander couldn't help the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Or is Sevika your number three?"

"Hell, no", Sevika muttered

"Oh yes, we fought", Felicia chirped. "Now each of us get's to fuck around, and the make up sex after will be fantastic."

"Sounds like a happy marriage to me", Silco concluded, chuckling.

Felicia shrugged. “Keeps the fire burning.”

Silco looked over at Sevika. “And you’re fine with this?”

Vander peeked open one eye to catch the woman's frown. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Just took you for the more loyal kind”, Silco answered with a shrug.

“I’m not betraying anyone here”, Sevika argued.

“True!” Felicia blurted before Silco could say anything else. “I’m the one betraying my fiancé, with his consent. Now stop scaring off my hookup, Silco.”

Then a mischievous grin spread on her lips. “Enough about my love life. What about you two lovebirds?” She winked. “Fleeing the party to make out in the nest?”

Vander chuckled, fully opening his eyes now.

“Nice allegory”, Silco praised, voice laced with sarcasm. “The alcohol really brings out your sophisticated side, Licia.”

“Bah.” Felicia stuck out her tongue.

And because he was still drunk, Silco returned the gesture.

Vander laughed at his friends’ childish behavior. Warmth filled his chest as he was suddenly overwhelmed by his love for both of them.

It was probably the booze making him sentimental, but in this moment he felt infinitely grateful to have them in his life.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of Silcos head, hugging him closer against him. Vander had never been afraid to show affection, but this level of smoochiness was unusual even for him.

Silco seemed to notice that.

Vander felt him shift in his hold, a gentle hand cupping his cheek. Silco stretched his neck, so he could press a soft kiss to Vanders jawline.

“Are you okay?”, he asked, craning  his neck further to look up at him.

The expression on Silcos face was soft, his fingers caressing Vander’s cheek were soft. Vander practically melted into him, resting his forehead against Silco’s and smiling at him happily.

“Very okay”, he said, pressing a kiss to the tip of Silco’s nose.

Silco chuckled, nuzzling against him.

Vander could feel his own body vibrate with affection, the feeling soft and gentle, sweeter than simple want. Silco didn’t even need to kiss him to make him feel this way.

It was enough to hear his voice, feel his laughter as he held him close. Maybe it didn’t even need that. Vander just had to be near him, and his world pretty much zeroed in on Silco.

Literally.

He only remembered they weren't alone when he heard Felicia's happy, little squeal.

“Aren't they cute, Vika?”, she asked the woman next to her. “Pinch me, I still can't believe they finally made it.”

Vander and Silco both looked back at the pair. Their friend was bouncing on the spot, her fingers clutching Sevika’s shoulder, shaking it in excitement.

“What do you think”, Silco smiled, back to chest with Vander again. “Is this more of a milestone for us or for her?”

Vander huffed out a laugh, shaking his head gently. “Hard to tell.”

Felicia bounced some more, her eyes jumping between the two of them. Until she couldn't keep in anymore.

“Oh, just gimme a hug!”, she called, and the smile on her face was pure happiness.

Both hands reaching out for them, she took two steps towards them and Vander opened his arms to welcome her.

+

Part1 , Part 2

@arcain13 Saw you commenting on part 2. Here ya go!

I update parts as I write them. That's why they end in the middle of a szene. The whole thing will be on ao3 as soon as it's finished.

[archangeldyke-all]

royalty sevika trying to take off readers armour would be so funny. like there’s just so many layers of metal and chainmail or whatever that it takes 3-4 business days to take off lmfao

also that new pic of sev IM DYINGGG SHES SO DJSEHEJOWK

this made me gigglehehheeh

men and minors dni

you're still in shock.

you're half convinced this is the best dream of your life, and you're going to wake up any second now and return to a world where your love for your princess is hopelessly unrequited.

"are you okay?" sevika whispers, pulling away from your lips. she's got you pinned to one of the half-dozen chaise lounges in her quarters, one of her hands on your cheek, the other gently guiding your gloved hand down to hold her waist.

you blink up at the woman above you. it's rare-- but from time to time sevika will say something that lets on to her deep-seated belief that she's not the right kind of woman to be a royal. you know it comes from her father. you know that she looks in the mirror and sees her strength and scars as something negative-- something that pulls her further away from the soft, passive figure she's supposed to be. you know she's insecure about the looks people shoot her when she dares to wear her suits to balls and meetings; the comments the nobles shoot her about growing her hair longer.

but to you? "you're the most beautiful woman i've ever met." you whisper, reverently.

sevika's concern melts, a shy smile taking its place. "you've clearly met very few women."

"sevika." you whimper, reaching up from her waist to cup her scarred cheek. "please, princess. please believe me. you're a goddess among mortals."

sevika seems shocked at your sincerity, her eyes wide and watery as she looks down at you. you just gently stroke your thumb across her cheek, swiping away the single tear that falls.

then, something in her gaze shifts. her eyes get a little sharper, her pupils a little wider. she smiles, her gap tooth and sharp canines flashing for a moment and making you lightheaded. "i command you get naked this instant." sevika says.

your stomach bursts into butterflies as you burst into laughter. sevika smirks down at you, soaking in the sight of your smile, but her hungry look doesn't leave. "alright. you'll have to get off of me." you whisper.

sevika frowns at this, then ducks back down to kiss you again. you hum happily into her lips, and just as you dart your tongue out to lick her lips, sevika wretches herself off of you with a gasp.

she smiles down at you, then jumps up to stand, offering you a hand. "get up." she demands. you giggle, taking her hand and letting her haul you off the cushions. "strip." she commands.

you blink, suddenly incredibly shy. "j-just me?" you ask. sevika's smirk gets a little softer, and she steps an inch closer to you.

"i'll race you. first person to get naked gets to take the lead tonight."

you burst into laughter-- knowing that sevika's terms result in her winning, knowing that she knows this too, and expecting nothing less from her. "i love you." you giggle.

sevika's eyes get soft, she pulls you in for one more kiss, and then she shoves you away by your shoudlers.

"c'mon, strip!" she demands.

you get to work, unbuckling the belt around your waist that holds your sword, then the buckles that hold your chestplate tight around your wasit. you pull the front and back pieces off, and then nearly pass out at the sight of a naked sevika in front of you.

"princess." you gasp.

sevika snorts, smiling and puffing her naked chest out in pride. you stumble forward, scrambling with your leather gloves and carelessly tossing them in oppisite directions across the room as you reach out to touch her.

you stop an inch away from her skin, looking up at her for permission. sevika's smiling at you so warmly, you could die happy right here and now. "may i touch you?" you ask.

sevika giggles. "you can do a lot more than that." she whispers.

you smile, then reach forward and take her hips in your hands, pulling her toward you to kiss her.

she hums against your lips, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. you reach up to play with her lovely hair, tugging at the small ponytail she wears before pulling it free.

when she pulls away from the kiss, she looks devestating.

hair free, gasping for air, cheeks flushed-- she's an angel.

"how are you still dressed?" she asks.

you look down at yourself bursting into laughter when you realize you're still bundled up in your armor.

"wanna help me?" you ask.

sevika grins. "i've had fantasies that start like this." she says. you grin.

"what? you naked and me fully dressed?" you ask. she laughs as she unbuckles the ties at your hips, the armor protecting your thighs thudding to the ground.

"no-- me helping undress you." she corrects, kneeling down to pull your shin and knee guards off.

you think you might die. sevika-- the princess-- is naked and on her knees in front of you, kissing your clothed legs as she gently strips you of your armor.

"s-sevika." you whimper. she giggles and blinks up at you, freeing your feet of your boots.

"like the view?" she teases. you huff and gently tug some of her fringe.

"almost as much as you like yours." you shoot back. she laughs.

"i'd like my view a lot fucking better if you were naked." she frowns, looking down at your body.

you burst into laughter. you've still got chainmail, then the protective leathers you wear underneath it so it doesn't catch on your skin-- then your linens-- then your wraps.

"it's gonna be a bit." you giggle. "i think i have a more complicated dressing process than you."

"i don't doubt it." she huffs, pulling at your leather pants.

you snort, then smack her hands away, dropping your trousers easily.

sevika groans and flops back on her back dramatically, sprawling out naked on a rug more expensive than your entire life as she laments the fact that you're wearing pants under your leathers. you half laugh, half gasp at the sight of her beneath you. she shoots you knowing eyes, and then flits her hand at you.

"fucking get naked already." she demands. you don't follow her instructions, instead, you kneel down and offer her a hand, helping her rise. she glares at you the entire way, but doesn't protest as you lead her toward her bed, letting her recline against her sheets before kissing her lips.

"stay here." you whisper. she raises an eyebrow at you, and you giggle, running around toward the foot of the bed before you start slowly, deliberately working off the rest of your armor.

sevika grins against the pillows. "fuck yes." she whispers under her breath. you giggle, freeing yourself of your chainmail and draping it over a chair. "y'know..." she trails off as you pull your leather top off. you raise an eyebrow at her.

"what?" she looks away from you, blushing. your stomach turns over, and you grin. "what!?" you ask, thrilled.

"i commissioned a concubine to... strip tease out of some knights armor for me before." she mutters. you burst into giggles, and sevika huffs.

"any particular inspiration...?"

sevika groans, then throws a pillow at you. you easily dodge it, finally shucking off your linens, leaving you only in your undergarments.

sevika finally seems satisfied, her eyes soaking in the skin she's never seen on you before. "fuck. come here." she grunts.

"i'm not naked yet." you point out. she rolls her eyes and glares at you.

"fuck off, i'll do the rest, just come here." she makes grabby hands at you, and you burst into giggles.

you've never been one to deny your princess. so now, fifty pounds lighter without your armor, you jump into bed beside her, both of you giggling as you meet in a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[gallafics]

𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚌'𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠

Title: Paragraphs

Author: @palepinkgoat (Ao3)

Rating: Explicit Series: —

Chapters: 14/14 Word Count: 100.1 k

Archive Warnings: Warnings Not Used

Favorite Character: Its hard to not say Ian and Mickey because they’re both so amazing in this fic and they’re really the main focus—however I do really love a little side character named Rex and Lip is pretty cool in this one too! And I can’t forget Bill!

Least Favorite Character: Terry and he’s not even actively in this one but he’s definitely still my least favorite oh and Ian’s ex-boss, not a cool guy.

Ao3 Summary: Ian has an opportunity to be a reading tutor for ex-convicts. He meets one in particular that catches his eye. What begins as an attraction becomes more complicated with the weight of the past.

Spoiler Free Review: I ate this fic up in less than two days, when I tell you I’m obsessed…every now and then a fic comes along and you start reading and you just know it’s like this fic is now apart of your soul. I love it. It now has a permanent place on my comfort fic list. This is a different first meeting AU. There’s so much sweetness and fluff but be prepared and take care of yourself as this fic also deals with some heavier topics as well and the author does a great job at leaving notes about which chapter have the heavier themes. This fic is an amazing read, I highly suggest it, just know you’ll be adding it to your re-read list because it’s amazing!

Spoilers Below↓

Favorite Moment(s):

Ian and Mickeys entire first encounter.

Rex is honestly so funny, one of my fav side character in a fic!

“What’s complicated about getting your dick wet?” Rex squints at the numbers on the shelf. “You didn’t see him looking at you like you were a whole meal.”

Protective Mickey my beloved

“My stomach’s kind of messed up from getting punched,” Ian snaps. Mickey’s voice is rough. “You punched him? What the fuck for?” “He just startled me. It was a reflex.” “Blinking is a reflex. You don’t just punch someone in the stomach just because they surprise you.” Mickey stands up.

There’s the sweetest moment of Ian helping Mickey with reading and Mickey helping Ian with math!

Protective Mickey my beloved…again!

Ian shifts in his seat. “I guess,” he says. “I don’t know. I just had this weird run-in with this guy at the laundromat and then—” “What guy? What’d he do?” Mickey’s voice gets deeper. “He,” Ian says, and he takes a deep breath. “He recognized me. From when I worked at The Fairy Tail. And it was weird. So somehow I decided this was the next place on my list.” Mickey’s voice is small. “So you came to see me?” Ian doesn’t look away. “I think I did,” he says. His voice is clear. He means it. Mickey swipes his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

This part from Ian telling Mickey about his past!!

“You've been through a lot,” Mickey says, fingers wandering toward Ian’s palm. Ian realizes he’s been holding tight to the crumpled napkin. Mickey slowly pries the napkin from his hand and tosses it aside. Mickey’s hand slides so slowly into his that he can barely breathe.

I don’t know what to say about this one…I just love slutty gallavich

Ian presses him close. Harder. Tighter. “I bet you take it so good,” Ian whispers. Mickey’s mouth is slack, his eyes closed. “Yeah.” Ian cups his ass. God. His voice shakes. “Can you feel how big I am?” Mickey is panting, chest heaving against his. “So fucking big.” Ian lets Mickey’s tongue sweep into his mouth lazily, blissed out. Mickey’s eyes open slowly. “How big are you?” “Nine,” Ian whispers. Mickey moans, “Jesus fucking Christ.” “Too big?” Ian hopes not. It has been, before. Mickey shakes his head slowly. “That’s fucking perfect.”

I could literally list to so many moments in this fic but I’m begging you to just read it. You seriously will not be disappointed!!! Their first kiss, their first time being intimate, the first time they sleep together, all the moments in between and the journey that leads them through all of those phases!

Favorite Quote(s):

“You’re not.” Ian shakes his head. “This is only a chapter in your life. No. Wait. A chapter is too long. This is a paragraph.” “A paragraph?” “Yeah.” “The fuck’s a paragraph?” Ian stands up and hefts up his laundry, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“Come on, man. The only excitement in my life is my mom making me kielbasa and pierogies three times a week.” Ian tilts his head. “Three times a week? That seems like two times too many.” “Says you. You’ve never had my mom’s cooking.”

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Ian whispers against his lips. Mickey’s breath comes fast, but their lips stay slack and soft. “The taste of you.”

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. So patient. I want you, Mick.” “You got me.”

“Loved you a while,” Mickey says quietly, rising from the table. A small, almost embarrassed shrug. “Just didn’t know how to say it.”

Final thoughts: Ian and Mickey’s chemistry are written so well from the beginning. I felt it in that first moment they met, like little sparkles tingling in the air even if it was brief and not anything special. I also love when Ian is written having a good relationship with Lip and this fic definitely has them written so well together! Also having Mickey struggle with reading not just because he can’t but because he has a learning disability—as a fellow dyslexic I appreciate the representation. Then the call back to the show with Mickey being good at math! I love how they’re able to help each other with the things they struggle with.

Also the story telling around the issues Ian and Mickey both are dealing with is spectacular, they are both dealing with such complex traumas and it’s written in a way that you can really feel their emotions about it. There’s some small moments of angst, a whole lot of fluff and love and some of the hottest smut. It goes without saying I’m a huge fan of this fic, give it a read and I promise you’ll enjoy it. If you’ve already read it let’s squeal about it together!!

Thank you so much, pink_ink , for blessing us with this fic!!

— Harley, Gallafics Reviews

[pixeldistractions]

Seven years ago…

Colette signed up for an early morning real estate class so that she could still work for the rest of the day. “Somebody’s gotta pay the bills around here,” she said. Jordan wasn’t used to waking up on toddler time, barely past the crack of dawn, in this unfamiliar house with two little boys who hardly knew him.

Milo poked his cheek. “Why you look like Grampy?”

“Because he was my dad,” Jordan answered.

“So you are Grampy?”

“I’m not Grampy, I’m your dad. Grampy was my dad.”

“But why you here?”

“Why? Because your mom wants to go back to school, and, I don’t know, I guess I’m supposed to be.”

Because he fucked it all up and had nowhere else to go. That’s why he was here.

“Is Grampy coming?”

“No, he can’t come back.”

“He come back tomorrow?”

“No, not tomorrow, either.”

“I want Grampy.”

“I want Grampy, too.”

The boys climbed on him, sharp little elbows and knees digging into his gut while so many soft little fluttering fingers tickled his sides.

“You’re not Grampy,” Felix said. “You smell funny.”

“So do you.” Jordan stuck out his tongue.

“He he,” they laughed. The boys stuck out their slobbery tongues, too.

And they were sad—all three of them, sad—but that guttural belly laugh of a toddler, it spoke to something primal, biological, evolutionary. It made Jordan smile. It made him want to try.

He would never live up to the example his father, their Grampy, had set for him. But in this moment, he wondered if maybe “good enough” might be better than nothing at all? He had a lot of lost time to make up for, if they would let him.

— “why are you here? #2: little sparks catch fire” (part 3/6)

note: a little one, but potent? I hope. Its tininess can make up for tomorrow’s post, which is over 1000 words, lol!

Thank you Rinvalee for the poses, which I manipulated a bit with TOOL and editing, but they’re very cute even straight out of the box. I think they are no longer active anymore (?), but this looks like a working link [here].

Next -> // WAYH #2 start // index

[adrianicsea]

what do you like about nightmare on elm street? (genuine question, I respect your views and would love to know your opinion)

OH MAN thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to talk about it!!! i’ve always had a huge soft spot for the elm street series as it’s what got me introduced to/hooked on horror, and imo there’s a lot to love about it and a lot that sets it apart from its contemporaries.

for starters, while it IS a slasher series, it was the first big one to really foreground/mix in the paranormal and even some elements of the fantasy genre. while jason voorhees and michael myers are both supernatural in origin, they continue to occupy the physical world and are thus constrained by mundane laws when it comes to their kills; not ONLY is freddy supernatural in origin, but he continues to occupy the realm of dreams and use supernatural powers in his kills. this sets the series apart by adding a greater element of mystery to the events, and it ALSO opens up the series for a variety of creative and memorable nightmare/kill sequences that wouldn’t be possible if freddy had to play by the rules of the real world. (this is also notable bc the slasher cycle had begun to feel a bit tired when nightmare 1 released— elm street is credited for jump starting the slasher for a NEW cycle in the 80s, partially by virtue of introducing a greater fantasy angle to it!!)

freddy himself is just SUCH a fun and creative character. prior to nightmare, the majority of slasher villains didn’t have much of a personality and didn’t talk a lot, but there’s always (imo) been something so fun about freddy WITHOUT compromising how genuinely menacing he can be. robert englund is a fantastic actor, and i think the series was also able to maintain more integrity (such as it is) by keeping englund as freddy throughout the entirety of the series. even after the series crosses the threshold and becomes Not Scary And Kind Of Bad, freddy still provides a lot of camp fun in his jokes and creative kills.

wes craven’s horror movies almost always have elements of anti-authoritarianism or other types of political critique to them, in a way that feels more deliberate and purposeful than a lot of other 80s slashers (which, on a surface level, tended to be either apolitical or outright regressive compared to the 70s horror films that came before). in nightmare, this first manifests as a combination of police ineptitude, a critique of white suburban parenthood and of parents not listening to their children, AND a critique/commentary on the disastrous fallout of vigilante justice. that is a frankly impressive amount of ground to cover in an 80s slasher, and the second and third movies only up the ante by looking at the horror of realizing you’re gay during the peak of the AIDS crisis (in nightmare 2) and of the ways that the mental health institution preys upon and fails to meaningfully help institutionalized patients (in nightmare 3). after that, the series kind of loses its vision and starts to feel more generic and less pointed, but the original trilogy at least is a SHOCKINGLY cogent body of work for the decade and subgenre that they occupy.

the movies can also be very funny! the original trilogy has a lot of tongue-in-cheek or darkly humorous moments without compromising the moments of horror, and the latter films are still funny in a more camp sort of way. i’ve always personally found the scream series to be TOO glib and too meta, so the type of comedy/humor used in the elm street series is more my speed.

speaking of scream, i feel like i HAVE to talk about the last film in the original series, Wes Craven’s New Nightmare (yes that is its full title). it feels like the prototype for scream in a lot of ways— it’s ALSO a meta-horror horror movie, but here the story is ABOUT the actress from the first and third movies coming back to the series to make a new one. but things keep going fatally wrong on set, robert englund is acting strange, and a mysterious stalker keeps leaving threatening phone calls for langenkamp’s son. i think this movie is SOOOOO ahead of its time for its investigation of fandom and its raising the question of “what do we do with these modern monsters we’ve created?” i always get so smad that this movie has been so overlooked in comparison to scream, bc they’re a lot more similar than people realize, and i think that scream wouldn’t have happened the way it did if not for New Nightmare.

this is more of an ancillary thing and something i didn’t come to appreciate until much later in life, but craven’s body of work was a HUGE influence on james wan and leigh whannell— lawrence gordon of the saw series partially owes his name to a main character from nightmare 3!!! there’s a lot of other neat little connections between the elm street series and saw, which i particularly enjoy as those are two of my absolute favorite horror series.

any movie where j*hnny d*pp dies badly is worth celebrating imo!!

as a final note, i’ll acknowledge that a lot of my love for the elm street movies IS because they were my first horror movies, and so i have a very nostalgic emotional attachment to them. which is to say i’m a bit biased!

i can see a lot of the common criticisms of the series— for some people, the core fantasy element of “he kills you in your dreams” makes it too unrealistic and therefore not scary for some people, and while freddy was very purposely changed to be “just” a child murderer due to high-profile cases of CSA around the time of the film’s release, he still carries a VERY predatory subtext, which can be offputting for some viewers. i also feel like the things that made the elm street series such a standout— the fantasy element, the talkative and funny slasher villain— were then imitated by SO many other 80s slashers that it can be hard to recognize elm street’s originality today. but the franchise wasn’t just a member of the pack, it CREATED those tropes!!

if anyone reading this hasn’t seen the elm street movies (and is so inclined), i definitely encourage you to check them out— and for people who have historically disliked the series, i hope this post was informative, even if it doesn’t change your mind :)

[selmasemlan]

A Family’s Embrace

Summary: A cute moment with the Aizawas

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x Luna Aizawa (OFC)

Author note: I needed a break from writing the war arc, so here is something cute

Warning: none, cuteness

Word count: 924

Series masterlist

A Family’s Embrace

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the cozy living room of Aizawa Shouta’s home. The soft, amber light filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in a warm, inviting glow. The space was decorated with a blend of comfort and subtle sophistication—a large, plush couch with a knitted throw draped over it, a coffee table adorned with a vase of fresh flowers, and shelves filled with books and mementos. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint aroma of lavender from a nearby candle.

Eri, with her wide, inquisitive eyes and a cheerful smile, was sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by an array of art supplies. Crayons, colored pencils, and sheets of construction paper were strewn about, evidence of her creative endeavors. Her tiny hands worked diligently on a drawing, her concentration evident in the furrow of her brow and the way her tongue peeked out slightly as she focused.

Luna, her dark brown hair with its striking red highlights pulled back into a casual ponytail, stood in the kitchen area. She was wearing a soft, oversized sweater in a pastel shade that complemented her warm personality and relaxed vibe. She had a playful glint in her eyes as she reached for the last cookie on a plate. Her fingers curled around the cookie, but Aizawa’s hand—steady and deliberate—intercepted hers.

“Ah, not so fast,” Aizawa said with a mock-serious tone. His deep voice carried an edge of amusement, his casual attire of a hoodie and jeans reflecting his laid-back nature at home. He held the cookie aloft, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Luna’s eyes sparkled with determination as she tried to reclaim her prize. “Come on, Sho-nii! It’s just one cookie. I promise I’ll make up for it later.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, his expression a perfect blend of amusement and mock disapproval. “If I give this to you now, I’ll never hear the end of it. Besides, you’ve had your share.”

Eri, watching the playful struggle with delight, giggled softly. “Luna’s always so determined! It’s funny.”

Luna paused, her gaze softening as she looked at Eri. “I guess I am. But it’s worth it for a cookie that tastes this good!”

With a dramatic sigh, Aizawa finally relented, handing over the cookie with a theatrical flourish. “Alright, alright. But you owe me one. And don’t think I’ll let you forget it.”

Luna accepted the cookie with a triumphant grin, breaking it in half and offering half to Eri. “Here you go, Eri. You get first dibs.”

Eri’s face lit up with joy as she accepted the piece, taking a small, savoring bite. “Thank you, Luna! It’s delicious!”

The three of them settled into a comfortable routine, moving to the couch where Eri eagerly displayed her latest drawings. Each piece was vibrant and full of life—bright colors and whimsical designs that spoke to her boundless imagination. Luna and Aizawa sat beside her, their attention fully absorbed in Eri’s artistic creations.

Luna gently ruffled Eri’s hair, her fingers brushing through the soft locks as she admired one of the drawings. “This one’s my favorite. It’s beautiful, Eri.”

Aizawa nodded in agreement, his usual stern demeanor softened into one of genuine pride. “You’ve really improved. I’m impressed.”

Eri’s cheeks flushed with happiness at the praise, her eyes shining with pride. “I’ve been practicing a lot. Luna and I even painted together last week! We made a huge mess, but it was so much fun.”

“True,” Luna said with a nostalgic smile. “We did make a mess, but it was worth every splattered paint drop. And look at how great Eri’s gotten!”

As the evening progressed, the family settled into a cozy arrangement on the couch. Eri nestled comfortably between Aizawa and Luna, her small frame curled up against their sides. The soft, rhythmic hum of the TV provided a soothing backdrop as a classic animated movie played out, its colorful scenes reflecting the warmth of the family’s bond.

Luna looked down at Eri, her heart swelling with affection. She could hardly believe how lucky she was to have found a family who cherished her so deeply. “You know, Eri,” she said softly, her voice carrying a tender note, “I’ve always wanted a little sister. And now I get to have you.”

Eri’s eyes sparkled up at Luna, full of warmth and trust. “I’m glad too, Luna. And I’m happy you’re here with us.”

Aizawa, his gaze shifting between his sister and daughter, felt a profound sense of contentment. Despite the demanding nature of their roles as heroes, moments like these made every challenge worthwhile. He wrapped an arm around both Luna and Eri, pulling them close in a protective embrace.

“Me too,” Aizawa added, his voice soft and sincere. “We’re a family, and that means we take care of each other.”

The room was filled with a sense of peace and unity, a perfect snapshot of their shared love and support. The night wore on, the movie continuing to play softly in the background, but the family remained close, basking in the simple joy of each other’s company.

In those quiet moments, surrounded by the gentle glow of the evening and the comforting presence of their loved ones, Luna, Aizawa, and Eri found solace and happiness in their togetherness. The warmth of their home and the strength of their bond created a safe haven where they could simply be, finding joy in the simple pleasures of life.

[oleander-neria]

On some godforsaken whim I actually watched the Netflix Persuasion with Dakota Johnson, and I was genuinely surprised that I didn’t completely hate it? I mean it’s not very good and it’s a dreadful adaptation and an enormous disservice to Anne Elliot and Jane Austen, but I didn’t hate it. I think that there was the possibility to do a Persuasion along these lines and do it well. I kept thinking about Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but the not zombie parts. It’s goofy and everything is dialed up to eleven, but it’s still recognizable as a fun, campy take on the story. In its better moments the Netflix Persuasion is the same—specifically the supporting characters. I definitely have room in my heart for a Mary Musgrove who says things like “I’m an empath.” Because it’s true to her character! A lot of the supporting cast felt perfectly like themselves, just with this heightened, tongue-in-cheek contemporary styling. I think these kinds of adaptations can work and be fun if done well. Back when they first released trailers for this movie I remember thinking the “now we’re worse than exes, we’re friends” line would actually be perfect for a Clueless-style teen romcom adaptation of Persuasion. After watching the movie I still think that—a lot of the stupid modernizations actually could have fit just fine in an alternate version of this movie that had a stronger identity and better execution.

The real problem is that this movie fundamentally doesn’t understand Anne Elliot, or the main conflict between her and Wentworth. This movie has never even met the real Anne Elliot. Anne is woefully out of character and her and Wentworth’s story is so mishandled that it drags the whole thing down and turns it into an unrecognizably bad adaptation. If they had figured out how to create versions of Anne and Wentworth along the same lines of what they did for characters like Mary, Elizabeth, Sir Walter, and Mr Elliot this could have worked great. This movie knows how to take an accurate read of a character then turn them into a funny, faux-contemporary exaggeration of themselves, it just doesn’t do that for Anne and Wentworth.

On the other hand, I think it is worth asking whether a funny, faux-contemporary version of a character like Anne Elliot could even exist. Unlike someone like Elizabeth in Pride & Prejudice & Zombies who has character qualities that can be exaggerated for comedy, Anne is such a reticent, gentle, and internal character that perhaps an exaggeration of her just couldn’t be made campy and fun. And if that’s the case, then they simply shouldn’t have attempted a Persuasion with these foundational sensibilities, even if it did give us a perfect Mary Musgrove.

[sstormyskyess]

Holiday Movies

author's note: hello and happy new year's eve everyone!! i've gotta say that these past three months have been absolutely insane for me, i could have never expected the support i've gotten and i have to give a big thank you to all my mutuals [i swear i was doing backflips when all of y'all followed me, a little baby blog, out of nowhere. fr i was losing it] with all of that out of the way, please enjoy a gaz fic as my final post of the year! i'm looking forward to next year and all the things i have planned 😊

cw: smut, afab!reader [no gendered language], voyeurism, some dirty talk, masturbation

word count: 2300+

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick / GN!Reader

It was a cold December night and the new year was right around the corner, a few hours away. He would’ve much preferred to be with you, celebrating with your friends and a bottle of champagne, watching some of your favorite movies, and simply relaxing. But, as was common with his job, that wasn’t in the cards. Not this year.

Moonlight beamed into the small, dusty motel room Kyle sat in. It had been a little while since he’d been on a solo mission; he was all alone with nothing other than the occasional check-in from Price or Laswell to keep him company.

Well, except for one thing.

He lets out a shuddering sigh, his hand lazily palming over the bulge in his pants. He scrolled through the various pictures and videos on his phone: pictures of pretty things he had been seeing on this undercover mission thus far, funny videos he was ready to send you when he was able to connect to the internet again, and lots of pictures and videos of the two of you doing a variety of things. 

He had some selfies of him smiling at the camera while you slept soundly beside him, a few videos he took of you when a stray cat had found its way into your lap while you sat on a park bench, and plenty more. But he was on the lookout for one particular video that the two of you recorded together earlier that month.

“Wait. You want to do what?” You tilt your head, your cheeks rapidly heating up. Your eyebrows were practically up to your hairline at the mere suggestion of what Kyle was planning.

“I want something to take with me when I go on missions. Just a little something to keep me occupied in my downtime.” He had that signature grin on his pretty face, the one that always made it so hard to even register what he was saying.

You blink, a stunned look on your face. The concept of recording a homemade sex tape was something you would have never considered had Kyle not brought it up. You weren't opposed necessarily, but it still had you getting flustered regardless. “I mean… okay. That sounds fun.” You say with a shy smile.

Kyle leans down to kiss you, cupping your jaw and pulling you close. You hum into his lips out of surprise. Apparently Kyle had already gotten himself worked up just from hearing your consent, a fact that had you squirming in his spot and getting excited yourself.

You’re practically tackled down to the couch cushions, your legs making room for Kyle to maneuver between them without breaking the kiss for even a moment. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips and mingling with yours, enjoying the quiet moan you let out at the feeling.

When Kyle pulls away, his eyes are dark and begin to trail down the length of your body. Despite being fully clothed, you feel completely naked under his gaze; it felt like you were being undressed by his eyes. You had to look away, your face flushed from embarrassment.

Kyle chuckles, running his hand up and under the hem of your thin shirt, feeling your warm skin under his fingers and squeezing at your stomach, hips, and chest. He pauses for a moment to grab his phone and smiles at the picture of you on the lock screen before pulling up his camera.

“Get undressed for me, love. Nice and slow.” He mutters and hits the record button. You bite your lip, doing as he said. You grab the hem of your shirt and pull it upwards, slowly revealing your torso and chest, the cool air making your nipples perk up. You wiggle away from Kyle for a moment to pull your baggy sleep shorts and underwear down your legs, having to pull your legs up toward your chest to pull them off in the position you were in. You notice Kyle pointing the camera downwards to get a look of the heat between your legs, making you suddenly feel even more shy.

Kyle takes hold of one of your knees and pulls it away from the other, revealing your core to him. He sighs, running his hand down your thigh and running a thumb up and down your slit, pulling it open and getting a good view of your hole. You shiver, both from the chill and the timid feeling threatening to spill over inside you. It was one thing to be so exposed to just Kyle, but now with a camera involved, it was a whole new experience.

“Fuck, just look at you…” Kyle muses to himself, playing with your wet folds with his thumb, smiling at the sight. “So pretty just for me.” You moan softly when his finger brushes up against your sensitive bundle of nerves, stroking it up and down. His thumb dips inside just slightly while he trails it around the rim. “This is all mine, isn’t it?”

You nod, but that wasn’t enough for him. He tuts down at you, gently pinching your swelling nub between his thumb and forefinger. “I wanna hear you say it, sweetheart."

You whimper at the sting, looking up at him. "I-It's yours… I'm yours, Kyle," You try to keep your voice louder than it usually would to make sure it would pick up on the camera microphone. "A-All yours."

Kyle nods along with your words, humming affirmatively. "All mine," he parrots back.

"Now, be good for me and hold your legs apart, okay?" You nod at his instructions, making Kyle smile happily. You hook your fingers under your knees, pulling them up to your chest to spread yourself open wide. "There we go." He grins wider.

Kyle uses his free hand to cup your chest, twisting one of your nipples between his fingers, then running it back down your stomach to paw at the soft skin there. "You're gorgeous, love." He sighs.

Finally, he reaches down to free his cock from his sweatpants and boxer briefs, tugging at it a few times. It’s stiff and leaking, pre-cum slowly sliding down the underside of his cock from the swollen tip. You look him up and down, watching his cock twitch and jump in his hand.

Kyle watches through the screen of his phone, gliding the tip of his cock through your folds and chuckling breathily at the way you jump when it bumps against your little bundle of nerves.

You suck in a breath when the head of his shaft notches on the rim of your hole, teasing it in and out. "You ready for me, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm ready. I want it, please," You whine, wiggling in place. 

You bite down on your lip when his cock slides inside you slowly. You stare at Kyle holding the phone closer to where your bodies connect, a tiny moan leaving your lips at the sight. The thought of Kyle watching this later made your walls flutter around Kyle’s cock, making him grunt in return. "Fuckin' hell—so fuckin' tight, baby…"

You shiver at the slow but steady intrusion. You look up at Kyle, and in turn the camera, your eyes half-lidded. You swallow thickly and fight the urge to hide your face behind your hands, knowing that he wouldn’t let that slide.

The tip of Kyle’s cock presses right against the back wall of your hole, sending that all too familiar pleasant sting that you had gotten used to over the course of your relationship through your body. You gasp and let out a long moan, your face scrunching up. “Kyle…” You whine, your voice drawn out and high-pitched. He was just so deep. It was making your head spin and Kyle hadn’t even started moving yet.

You open your eyes back up to stare at Kyle pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again slowly, holding them there for a few moments. “Y’feel so good, love. Can’t wait to fill you up good.” He groans. He thrusts again and again at his slow pace, warming you up and stretching you out to make room for his cock.

Your breath catches in your throat when he starts moving a tad bit faster, and pressing in just a bit rougher. “I-I want more, Kyle, please,” you whimper, looking up at him with a newfound need in your gaze. His cock twitches at the sight but he still shakes his head. “I’ve gotta savor this, love, need something nice and long to keep me occupied.” He chuckles when you huff, pouting at his resolve when you were so worked up, so needy in comparison.

Soon, your hole was squelching around him, the lewd sound picking up on the video with just how loud it was. His pace had picked up, and he was holding your hips up for you to wrap your legs around his waist, letting him hit a deeper angle. Your moans were shaky and your eyes had gotten glassy from his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust.

Kyle made sure to get all of you on camera, from head to toe, his brain getting foggy as he watched the beautiful display you were setting for him. He was brought back to reality when you started to speak, or try to at least; you were having trouble getting your words out in a coherent way with him managing to brush up against your sweet spot with every time he pulled out and pushed back in.

You tug on his free arm, looking up at him so sweetly, a look that he could never say no to. “I need it faster, please, please, please—” Your whining is broken off by him sending a few particularly rough thrusts into you, causing you to cry out. You don’t notice him propping his phone up on the coffee table until you feel both of his hands on your hips.

He starts panting and pulling you into his thrusts, the skin of his thighs slapping against the plush of your ass. “Don’t wanna hear you talking, sweetheart—fuck—just wanna hear you scream for me,” he groans lowly. You do exactly what he says, a loud moan echoing around the room. He had pushed your knees up to your chest in a mating press, bracing his knees on the couch to get better leverage. The power behind his ministrations increased, his grunting now consistently mingling with your beautiful noises.

“Kyle—Kyle!” You cry out. Your legs start to shake as you neared your climax. You start to babble out praises and pleas and your stomach muscles tighten, the pleasure building up and up, so close to spilling over…

Then, your hole clenches down around Kyle’ cock, practically squeezing the life out of it. Kyle cries out at the feeling of you tipping over the edge, relishing the string of moans you let out with each of his thrusts. He needed more, though. He only picks up the pace and everything becomes too much quickly.

Jolts of overstimulation, pleasure and pain, shoot through your body and down your legs as they tensed up hard. You whine his name desperately, begging him to keep going, slow down, you didn’t know anymore. The feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing inside you mixed with his hips stuttering as he neared his orgasm was too much for you to handle.

“Fuck—I’m close, love, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, sweetheart—clench down on me again,” he groans out when you do what he asks. “J-Just like that, o-oh fuck—!” He tips his head back and buries himself to the hilt, his mouth opened in a silent moan as he cums, painting your walls white. He puts his hands next to your head, smiling down at you with a heaving chest.

He grabs his phone from the table again. “I’m gonna pull out now,” he murmurs before doing just that, a shiver running down your spine. His cum dribbles out of you and he uses his free hand to collect it with his thumb, spreading it around and smoothing it across your over-sensitive, swollen nub. You whine at the overwhelming feeling, looking up at him and at the camera.

“You felt perfect, sweetheart.” He plays around with you for a while longer, letting you catch your breath. “Can’t wait to start up a nice collection of these with you.” He smiles at you when your eyes widen a bit at that notion.

Kyle’s head tips back onto the headboard of the motel bed, his breathing heavy and his cock spent. He looks back down at the video on his phone, his eyes locked on your pretty face looking up at him so sweetly.

His hand looked similar to the way your wet heat looked that night: covered in his thick cum, pent up from a couple weeks of not being able to satisfy himself. He had gone a few rounds and rewatched the video more than a couple times, and it ended up with his cock slicked up with his own spend. He wished he could show you how fucked-out he looked and felt, but he would just have to send you the pictures he took later. Maybe you’d use them to get yourself off. The thought of you touching yourself looking at his lewd photos had him hardening up again, even though he had gotten lightheaded from how much blood had rushed down into his cock for so long.

Guess he’d have to take care of this little problem yet again. Luckily, he had plenty of material to take care of it. His free, clean hand tilted his phone up again and his thumb tapped the play button once again. He had a long night ahead of him.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[fireflylitsky]

Shisui ruins everything for the wip game!!

Ahaha you'll actually recognize this one because it came from one of the Shinden server prompts :3 Anyway I've been thinking a lot about this AU and how Sakura fits into it, potentially Shisui/Sakura.

Anyhow, here's a snippet of an AU in which Shisui lives and Obito has a really bad time:

The night is dark, the moon just a fragile sliver in the sky. It’s raining like it always does here. Obito shuts the hideout door behind him, performs a seal to secure the perimeter, and takes a deep breath in the silence of his own space. His shoulders decompress on the exhale, long and low, a tired sigh laced with just a modicum of relief.

Alone, finally. 

Being Tobi is exhausting. Now he’s free to just be Obito.

He’s not sure which is worse, honestly, but it’s something different at the very least. 

“Long day, Obito-kun?” a bright, curious voice shatters the comfortable silence from behind him. It sounds like a man. Younger. Maybe in his twenties. 

Obito freezes. Listening. The voice is unfamiliar. He’d felt no chakra signature upon entry, yet now it floods the room with overwhelming intent. 

“Ah, my apologies. Where are my manners? I probably shouldn’t act so familiar. After all, you don’t know me,” the man says. His tone is oddly jovial for someone emanating such a malignant aura. Obito knows a thing or two about that though. “But I know you.”

“Is that so?” Obito turns around, not bothering with trying to maintain his Tobi persona after he’s already been made. He takes a brief moment to light a nearby lantern.

In the dim, orange light, he sees now where the voice is coming from and why he hadn’t noticed any figure when he first entered.

A man donning all black like he’s been dipped in darkness wears one of Obito’s own masks—an older one, yellow with something like tiger stripes peeling from one edge across the curve of it. The man stands flush against the wall that his mask collection hangs on. When he steps forward, it almost looks as if the mask just floats off of its own volition. A trick of the eye, but not an illusion—not genjutsu, anyway.

How quaint.

“If you really knew me,” Obito says, flexing his shoulder with a roll, “then I doubt you’d be so brazen right now.”

“Brazen?” The man laughs. “Now that’s funny, coming from you.”

There’s something eerie about whoever this is. Their confidence is knife’s edge sharp. Way too personal.

"What's wrong, Obito?" He laces his fingers beneath his chin with a tilt of his head. "I thought you liked this whole 'man behind the mask' routine. Or is that only when you do it?"

Obito's lips tighten into a thin line, brow furrowing behind his mask. An unsettling feeling of dread curls in his gut. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he missed something.

After a long pause, Obito clicks his tongue. "To answer your original question, yes, it has been a long day. Let’s cut to the chase—who are you?”

“Hm, how about this,” the man in black proposes, dragging his fingertips up along the mask’s cheeks, taking hold of it by the edges. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Obito stares. Considers.

Revealing his face goes against every instinct in his body, but holding his cards close when his opponent has apparently already seen his hand doesn’t exactly benefit him.

“Fine.” The decided clack of his mask against the oak desk is loud in the otherwise tensely silent room. He watches, waiting for the other man to follow suit. Mere seconds as they are, they stretch on torturously. The thought of being seen—*truly seen*—for the first time in years feels like a hot swelter burning under his collar and he prays it doesn't creep up his face.

Luckily the poor lighting is on his side. He works to keep his face impassive—not usually something he needs to concern himself with.

He’s fine. He's fine. He's always fine.

When he expects another obnoxiously animated reaction from the man, there is none.

"I see," is all he says, oddly even, finally breaking the mounting tension as his hands fall from his face, mask still held between his fingers.

Obito blinks. His brain is instantly roiling. He wants so desperately to put his mask back on.

This is bad. This is really fucking bad. 

He's been playing shogi—and playing it well, mind you—operating under the assumption that he knew which pieces were on the board.

Shisui goddamn Uchiha was not supposed to be one of them.

“Oh." Shisui smiles warmly with a little too much bite. His eyes flash red, a mirthful, calculating glint in them as they don’t so much as blink. "So you do know me, judging by that look on your face. That’s good. That’s good.”

Shit. Shit. Shisui being alive is one thing. Shisui having eyes is another. Where the hell did he get those? What else hasn’t Obito accounted for?

With a bowing of Shisui’s brows and a casual tip of his head—some mockery of actual concern—he steps toward Obito. Allows his face to be illuminated by the flickering lantern light. "Are you okay, Obito? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Obito usually prides himself on his unwavering composure, but right now the world feels like it's been tilted on its axis. One thought running through his head is louder than the rest, so that's the only thing his dry throat manages to scrape out. "You shouldn't be alive.""I know, right?" Shisui laughs with a shrug. "Oops. Guess we've both made some interesting choices, isn't that right, Obito? Speaking of—I have some questions about Itachi. You wouldn’t believe the state I found him in.”

[the-white-soul]

*Flowey shakes his head vigorously, even though Frisk can't see it on the other side of the phone. He can't be shy! Shy people are boring and no one wants to talk to them.*

I'm not shy! I just wanted to hear you talk first. *Just to hear their voice? Is he kidding himself? That makes him sound so soft!* I just... Um… did you know you can tell the type of person someone is just by their manner of speech? I wanted to test that idea. *Phew.*

You have to stop doing stupid work stuff so you can play with us, just once! We could go in the underground for that one day so bad humans wont be there to mess everything up. Even if you did tease me about my name… hmph. Your name is just “Frisky” but dropping the “y”. But I guess it fits. You do have a lot of energy. My nickname is Buttercup because I like poison.

*He almost begins to brag about how he killed Chara’s mom and tortured their dad too, but…*

*He looks back at where Chara and the others are standing for a moment. When he turns around, they can see his cheeks seem to have been tinted a slightly darker color throughout the entire conversation, although just barely noticeable. Flowey doesn't seem to notice.*

*Even if those excuses for Chara’s parents were bad, if Frisk found how violent he was, they wouldn’t like him. Not to mention all the other times he's lost his cool, and not just when he was in control of the timeline of his world. He bites his tongue and turns forward again.*

Ah… I mean, I don't use it a lot. Or any other dumb violent stuff. Its pointless. *He thinks, then deciding again that this makes him sound weak. He can't seem to make up his mind on what first impression he should give.* Unless some idiot comes up and tries to cross me! I'm real strong.

(Frisk) "Buttercup, *Sighs* I'm not stupid. I kept this job because I'm able to tell what people feel! I know you like violence. The whole world does. Do you think I don't watch the news? You killing Chara's mom is everywhere! You are really strong I'll give you that much. One other thing. I can't tell anyone this directly out of fear of me being hurt to get info out of you but just so you know I'm Aro-Ace, I'm fine with others being in love but it just never appealed to me. I know shocking! The kid who flirts with everyone doesn't want to be in a romantic or sexual relationship. I mostly do it because it's funny. I'd love to play with you underground just nothing romantic. It's also always hard to find the time to do this. I haven't had a 'play date' in years! If you want me to get away from all these humans, that makes sense. I left for many reasons but one was just how annoying humans can be. They say things like Skibiti and Sigma. What a bunch of weirdos! Obviously, that's not the main reason, but it didn't help matters. Thoughts about humans aside, I don't know everything about the multiverse but I do know that there are millions of Frisks out there. I'm sure you can find one that matters to you. I can tell you will do anything for your friends, whether new or old. It's what separates you from most Flowey's. Oh, I'm rambling again. You probably want to say something now. Go ahead."

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Opera (Argento, 1987)

Got to see this one the big screen with a Q&A with Karim Hussain (DP on Brandon Cronenberg’s movies), who cites this as one of his favourites and worked on the colour grading on the new Severin restoration. He went a lot into technical details around the restoration process, a lot of which went over my head, but I do recommend seeing this restoration in a theatre if it’s playing near you as this is one where Argento’s technical virtuosity seems especially aggressive (Hussain brought up the Raven POV shot a lot during the Q&A). Some thoughts that passed through my head during this latest viewing:

Compared to the other films in Argento’s prime period, I always found this one relatively episodic, working more as a string of elaborate set pieces than a cohesive whole with a clear sense of forward momentum. I still think that’s the case, but I appreciated the extent to which this furthers the streak of self reflection that defined Tenebre. There is an obvious stand-in for Argento in the character played by Ian Charleson, who in one of the movie’s many funny moments (some of which are intentional, some of which are not, but really, who cares) admits to jerking off before each shoot, and uses his directing skills to identify the villain. (Apparently Charleson admitted in an interview that he based his mannerisms on Argento, who was not pleased to learn this.) I did find it funny that Charleson’s VHS collection is shown to include such titles as Goin’ South and Silkwood. I would have expected some Hitchcock.

But the villain is arguably a stand-in for the director as well, as he “directs” the murders that he forces the heroine to watch (which apparently came from Argento learning people would their eyes during the movies). And on that note, I think this has the gnarliest gore out of any of Argento’s movies, and the meanness with which Argento executes them definitely got a few cringes out of my audience, especially with the foley effects blaring through the sound system.

In this vein, I’m tempted to read the last scene in the alps as a tongue-in-cheek reference to Phenomena, with its relatively gentler tone compared to the angrier and meaner Tenebre. The bit with the lizard its share of laughs.

The non-goofy bit that got the most laughs was “Daniele Soavi”, although I was mostly enraptured by the Suspiria-esque colours in that sequence.

And I must say they did a great job with the sound, because I’ve watched different copies of this before and don’t remember the metal songs popping the same way in the sound mix, and definitely don’t remember Rick Astley on the soundtrack.

Yeah, this rules. Check it out folks, if possible in a theatre near you.

[lightyakami]

my toxic trait is i think death note is an actually for real unironically good manga which is better than even a lot of its fans give it credit for. like it has the subtlety of meat cleaver but also you have to pay attention to what that cleaver is cutting u know. it’s not an ironic or tongue & cheek work so if you look at it from that lens you’re going to miss a lot of what’s good about it i think.

[fillinforlater]

Placebo Effect

Male Reader x Honda Hitomi

Length: 1601 words

Tags: toys, vibrator, heavy orgasm, cute sex, kisses, a lot of bodily fluids, healthy relationship, switch dynamic, clothed orgasm, squirting, breast worship, praise, cumming on tits, masturbation, proactive!Hitomi

TW: none, but it’s not that greatly edited sooooo...

Inspiration: This @friskyriskywhisky ask with great pics, the idea is already in it 

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky 

(A/N: A seemingly random quickie, very cute, not that rough stuff. I wanted to switch it up a little. I hope y’all like it)

“Look what I got!”

Adorable, you think with a sigh of adoration. Your girlfriend, cuteness impersonated, jumps up and down. She just returned from her shopping tour, and from one of her countless bags she pulls out a silver object in an odd form. The shiny device fits perfectly into her small hands, and she begins to rub it over her exposed, well-trained leg.

“What even is it, my pretty cutie-pie?”

“It’s a massager to relieve your stress, my dummy handsome-pie! Just run it up and down your body and your muscles will feel less tense and you become relaxed.”

You look at her hesitantly, as she sits down on the olive armchair and continues to roam her slender body with the two round ends of the massager. Her eyes sparkle in fascination, and you hear her cute giggle. Still, you remain unsure of its effectiveness. 

"Uh, Tomi, are you sure this thing works? Not just some placebo effect?" 

"Trust me, you'll like it too~" 

Suddenly, the somewhat cold metal is pressed on your arm, and as Hitomi slowly makes her way upwards to your biceps, she cards up your shirt to expose what’s beneath. She licks her lips at the sight of what you achieved after hours of long training, and puts more pressure on it. 

The rumble makes your arm feel funny, more like a tickle than any sort of stress relief. Before you can interrupt her, however, Hitomi smirks and her fingers pull down your shorts. A moment later, you feel the massager on your soft shaft.

“ Tomi, that's too—wait! Not down there—" 

You let out a moan and she silences you by getting on her toes and sealing your mouth with her's. For the first time in your relationship, Hitomi is the one dominating such a kiss, a kiss, where all sexual intention is clear as day. She rubs the now-sextoy up and down your gradually growing cock. It starts to make you light-headed, which she happily uses to force you down to the armchair.

“You like this?”

“Tomi, it—it feels very good, don’t stop, please!”

“As if I could,” she giggles, climbing onto your lap, the toy beneath her body, touching yours but not hers, “You look too adorable—I don’t want it to stop.”

Another kiss, this time a full-blown make-out session, as the vibrating sensation and her soft lips initiate a deep craving for this to become even better. Exchange saliva with her by using your tongue like a turbine to spin it into her. You feel her try to do the same, but the small woman is not willful, not forceful enough to do it. 

This is the moment you strike. Your fuzzy, formerly idle arms find their way to her back and nape respectively and press her closer towards you and, more importantly, down. Her private part is forced onto the vibrating toy, giving her the same sensation you have.

Hitomi moans in surprise, then she giggles and grabs the hem of your shirt. You do the same to her knitted pullover, and simultaneously you undress each other, disregarding the clothes onto the ground. Before you can get a hold of Hitomi’s shorts, she starts to grind her crotch in passionate trusts. In an instant reaction you throw your head back and groan.

“Fuck, Tomi. Th-this is not… how this works.”

“But, but it feels so good. Your body likes it, hihi.”

“Yours too,” you breathlessly respond, poking the rosy cheeks on her otherwise pale skin. Another cute giggle, and she grinds faster. Both of you leak onto underwear, precum, wetness, sweat from each other's incredible body heat. Groans and moans fill the otherwise dead quiet room. Luckily, you closed the curtains, or someone walking their dog could see you.

One of the straps of Hitomi’s bra slides down and you take the chance to pull the other down as well. The cups drop, her small breasts with hard, light pink nipples atop are exposed—but just for a split second, as the abashed girl covers them again. 

You know of your girlfriend's self-worth issues when it comes to the size of her chest. Telling her that you love her and her breasts with all your heart hasn’t helped, so you try to not talk about it. It’s made a lot easier by her taking the floor with whiny whimpers of pleasure:

“Do-don’t you dare—ah—cum from j-just this.”

“You’re one to talk, Tomi. Fuck, I bet you’re close.”

“I-I can go forever.”

“Really?”

You switch it up in more than one way. Grab her butt and spin her around, onto the olive cushions, trained legs parted, stained shorts exposed. Consequently, the metal object fell to the ground, so you pick it up and place it where you assume Hitomi’s clit is. A cry and jerk at touch confirms: you hit bullseye.

You press gently, drawing circles and leaning close to your girlfriend who has her eyes shut and lips trembling. In a seductive, yet loving voice you decide to make this a session to remember:

“Tomi, I love you. If you cum in your shorts and undies, if you are my little lewd girl for just this once, I promise to give you anything and everything. Now, be good and squeal for me~”

Hitomi’s squeals are unrivaled. You never want to hear another girl make this sound while pressing a ‘vibrator’ onto her hard nub. They way her gorgeous features melt into drool and sweat, and how her cutely tied hair becomes messy makes you throb in your pants and maybe, just maybe, the visual of your girlfriend climaxing her mind out, will make you cream yourself. 

She is getting closer. Her arms can barely cover her mounds, her legs become unstable, shaky noodles. If not for your free hand stabilizing her mini-butt, she would slide off the chair. Exactly that second hand is all you need to finish her off. You guide it upwards, to the spotted shorts and move under them to her soaked panties—a short rub is enough, it seems.

“B-baby, ahh, I love you—”

The bright, mostly white fabric of her shorts turn dark and darker which each of her hips jolt upwards. Looseness all over her frame, especially her limps contracts and then fold. Her voice is the same, screaming and moaning out her pleasure, then becoming numb as she tries to catch her breath.

Although absolutely amazing, the lack of visuals, except for the color change, leaves you still throbbing. The desire for your sexual release makes you tear of your belt, and pull down your pants. Not bothering to step out of them, you shift closer to Hitomi, who looks completely dazed. Narrow, glassy eyes tell a story of how good her orgasm was. 

“Tomi, please, let me finish too.”

“C-cum on me th-then.”

To your surprise, Hitomi’s numb arms fall to her side, her tits revealed to you. They heave with each of her deep breaths. Overcome your initial surprise and start to stroke. It will only take seconds, but something in the back of your head bothers you: what if Hitomi only does this, because she still hasn’t recovered? Or has she finally come to accept and love her smaller chest? Either way, you groan out moments before you orgasm:

“Tomi, your breasts are, are fucking perfect.”

“R-really? I don’t—”

“Let me sh-show you. I will, fuck, cum on them.”

Pull back harshly, and your first rope flies. It lands in the valley between her tits. Everywhere around the first one, your load spreads on her torso. White cream sticks to her skin, runs down her mounds, and the final spurt finds its way on her erect nipple. 

Eyes wider than before, Hitomi looks at the painting you put on her chest. It takes her a couple of seconds to realize—the same amount of time you need to find footing in this world again after flying to cloud seven. She begins to laugh, voice a little bit raspy, and hides her face behind her hands.

“This is really how you—I can’t believe this—this is how you want me to love my breasts? By… cumming on them?”

Awkwardness, but only until you join her in laughing.

“Y-yeah, I guess. Man, I must be stupid.”

“Yeah, stupid but cute. And very loving… so thank you.”

#

After a thorough clean up, two seperate showers, an hour of TV and ordering chicken with rice and vegetables, you wrap Hitomi and yourself in a large blanket and watch the sunset. Every now and then, she feeds you, and then it’s your turn. ‘Just like in college,’ she said, making you fall into a laughing fit at how awkward and innocent the two of you were back then.

The food has emptied out, the chopsticks in between your fingers are replaced with her fingers, entangled tightly to never let go. She sits on your lap, her head rests on your shoulders. In a quiet minute without reminiscing about the past, you pay attention to her heartbeat. Its pace puzzles you; why is it racing so fast? Of course, she is in love with you and all, but that speed is unsettling.

Then the reveal—

“Baby, y-you said I can wish for o-one thing you and you would do it, r-right?”

“Yes, I did. And I mean it. Why? You want me to do it now?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then what is it?”

The reveal—like fireworks, and a pulsar, overwhelming and glorious. With soft eyes, slightly pouty lips in a serious, yet stupidly cute expression, her words follow. Simple, yet incomprehensible. 

“Baby… let’s marry.”

[jeysbvck]

if you're lost, you can look (and you will find me)

A/N: the eddie munson brainrot is real! i started writing this at 2am on monday morning, and i've been working on it all week. i had a lot of ideas for this, and i had to take a lot out, so i might be doing a part 2, with more plot! thank you to @mayhem24-7forever, @rishlurh, @aprilfire18 & @talespinner230 for giving me a kick up the butt when i needed motivation and validation<3 not beta read because i'm impatient and didn't wanna wait any longer to post!

warnings: mention of parental death, marijuana use, language, angst, fluff (like full cheesy fluff), no s4 spoilers, it's basically a really self indulgent fic bc why the hell not?

word count: 3.5k

summary: It was a record of Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper, and your grin got wider, for no reason other than he had bought you a record, and maybe a little at the thought of Eddie Munson buying a Cyndi Lauper record. You turned the record over in your hands as you looked up at Eddie.

"Thanks Munson." You said, then you chuckled. "Why this song, though? I mean, it's a fucking great song, but..." You trailed off.

Eddie shrugged, a small blush creeping over his cheeks as he tried to hide behind his mass of curls and ringed hand.

"It just reminded me of you." He mumbled.

You had been at this party for an hour and you were already regretting the decision to come. You had allowed your friend, well, more accurately colleague, to drag you here, and within twenty minutes they had disappeared on you, leaving you completely alone at a high school party. So now here you were, smoking a blunt in a stranger's garden.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is this Y/N at a party?!"

Eddie Munson. He'd been your best friend since the beginning of high school when you ended up partnered up in Science. You quickly realized you had a lot in common and became inseparable. You both liked the same music, you both played Dungeons and Dragons, and you were both seen as freaks by most people in school. You weren't really friends anymore though, you had dropped out of school - and life - after your Dad's passing.

You rolled your eyes as you took the smoke into your lungs. "What's up Munson, you not babysitting tonight?" You asked as you exhaled.

"Ha ha, very funny. You know, some people would say it's adorable I'm friends with kids." Eddie replied and you sniggered.

"Others would say creepy." You said, and Eddie gasped as he joined you on the floor, your backs against the wall. You offered him the blunt and he took it from your fingers, thanking you as he took a long drag.

"I know you miss D&D." Eddie said while he held the smoke in his lungs. "You should join us, you know, for old times’ sake."

Mental images of you and Eddie playing Dungeons and Dragons filled you with so much nostalgia and a sense of happiness that seemed like a lifetime ago. You took another drag and blew the smoke out slowly.

"When are you gonna let go of the past, Munson? Things change. People change." You said with a shrug.

"Is that you trying to tell me you've changed?" Eddie asked, not even attempting to hide his laugh. You looked at him, with your head resting back on the wall and you raised your eyebrow at him. You watched as he took a drag of the blunt, before breathing the smoke out slowly, a surprisingly mesmerizing moment. Before your mind could take you to places you had avoided for months, Eddie spoke again.

"Okay, is your favorite band Fleetwood Mac?" Eddie asked.

"Of course."

"Is your favorite film A New Hope?" He asked, and you flicked your tongue over your lips as you smirked.

"Yep." You replied and he grinned.

"Oh really? Or is your favorite film actually Dirty Dancing?!" Eddie shouted, gleefully and you laughed.

"Dirty Dancing is a fantastic film with an incredible soundtrack!" You replied,

"Okay, okay, do you still have your teddy bear? What was its name...?"

"Mr. Fuzzy." You mumbled and Eddie cackled as he threw his head back against the wall. "What exactly are you trying to prove, Munson?"

"I thought it was obvious...that you haven't changed as much as you think you have." He replied, the blunt dangling in between his lips. You took it from his mouth and shook your head.

"Just because some things haven't changed, doesn't mean I haven't." You replied, defensively.

"Nah, you hide behind the walls you've built, but you're still the same person who loved Dungeons and Dragons and who used to hide behind a pillow when we watched horror films." Eddie said softly.

“Yeah well, I only watched them because you wanted to.” You revealed, and Eddie’s face softened, which is something you’d noticed happened pretty frequently when you spoke to each other.

You wished he was right, but he wasn't. You had let your trauma and grief consume you, you'd put a barrier between you and the world, including the only person you had left to care about, Eddie Munson. You knew that if you just opened up, Eddie wouldn't hesitate to be there for you; he'd done it before, after all. But you didn't want to be a burden, and honestly, you'd started to believe you were cursed. Everyone you ever loved; first your mother and now your dad, had died, and you as ridiculous as it was, had let the demons in your head convince you it was your fault.

"You don't know me anymore." You said to him, and he scoffed slightly.

"Whose fault is that?" He asked. You knew he didn't mean anything by it, but it struck a nerve. Of course, it did, you knew it was your fault.

"I'm gonna go." You said as you stubbed the end of the blunt against the wall, and you stood up. "Thanks for the trip down memory lane, Munson, really." You said, with a sad smile.

"See you around, Darling." He replied, and as you walked away, you couldn't help but smile at his use of his old nickname for you.

****

For the next two days, all you did was think about Eddie fucking Munson, and how he used that nickname. You weren't stupid, you knew exactly what he was trying to do, and it had worked. It had unlocked something inside you, something you'd kept successfully locked away for a year; and yet all it had taken was one god damn nickname.

As you made your weekly drive to The Hideout, you thought about the conversation that led to the nickname Eddie had come up with for you.

"I remind you of...Peter Pan?" Eddie spluttered. "The guy in the green tights? Is this supposed to be a nice way of telling me I need to grow up?"

"Well..." You replied before you giggled at his wide-eyed look. "I'm not, I promise! I just mean...well, you're daring and adventurous, you're charming and you're carefree, and I swear you're gonna be eternally youthful, just like Peter Pan! You explained.

Eddie pondered your reasonings before he grinned. "So, if I'm Peter Pan...does that make you my Wendy?" Eddie questioned.

"Wendy? I'm not Wendy!" You pouted. "I'm clearly Tinkerbell!"

"No, no, you're Wendy! You're caring, you're responsible, but when you're with me, you seem to relax, you're a little more wild and adventurous, just like Wendy!"

"I'm stubborn, constantly irritated, hot-tempered, and determined! Just like Tinkerbell!" You argued.

"Tinkerbell was also in love with Peter Pan, are you trying to tell me something with your comparison?"

"Wendy was his love interest too, Eddie."

"Okay, that's a fair point." Eddie chuckled. "You do bring up some good points, m'lady, but I stand by that you're Wendy."

"Ugh, I hate you." You mumbled, crossing your arms. Eddie laughed and flung his arm over your shoulders as he pulled you into his side.

"I know, Darling." He replied, and the blush on your cheeks and the feeling in your chest meant you didn't really mind being his Wendy.

You parked the car next to the back alley of the building and climbed out of it, waving to Tommy, the 40-something-year-old owner of The Hideout, who was smoking next to the dumpsters, seemingly hiding his habit from his wife of 15 years, Ruth.

"Hey, Trouble." He greeted you, pushing his greying hair out of his face. You'd known Tommy since you were 8, with him being best friends with your dad. You couldn't remember why he called you Trouble, but you didn't mind. It was the last little link to your dad that you had left. "How you doing?"

"I'm alright, are you hiding from Ruth?" You questioned, glancing pointedly at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"Maybe a little bit." Tommy chuckled. "Are you still hiding from Eddie?"

Your cheeks started to flush, but you shook your head vehemently. "I'm not hiding from anyone."

Tommy's booming laugh echoed through the alleyway as he took a drag. "Well, just in case you are, he was loitering around the kitchen before."

"Thanks, Tommy."  You said, with a smile as you opened the door. Then you stopped and turned to face him again. "You, uh- haven't told him, have you? That I come every week?"

"Not hiding from anyone, huh?" Tommy grinned. "Don't you worry Trouble, my lips are sealed. Although, you should talk to him. Take it from this old man, it'd mean a lot to Eddie."

"I'll think about it." You promised, earning a wink from Tommy before you headed inside. Luckily, you could hear the bands soundcheck as you walked through the kitchen, so there was no chance of bumping into Eddie, and you managed to slip in undetected.

You kept telling yourself that you didn't know why you'd stopped talking to Eddie, but you were lying to yourself. It was difficult -between your dad passing away and being forced out of the house you grew up in, and moving to the trailer park, and your rapidly growing feelings for Eddie - you felt truly alone for the first time in your life. Really, this should've brought you closer to Eddie; he lived in the trailer park and he was your friend, he'd been there for you before. Instead, you pulled away, distanced yourself, and used your grief as an excuse. It was a valid excuse, but an excuse all the same. You soon became a shell of the person you used to be, and you hated it; but you didn't want to be a burden to Eddie, and you were scared that if you let yourself be happy and move on, you'd forget your dad.

But on one Tuesday night, three months after you'd last seen Corroded Coffin play at The Hideout, you found yourself driving past after a shift at the animal shelter. Your curiosity got the better of you and you turned into the parking lot, entered the bar, and hid in the back. When you saw Eddie on stage, having the time of his life, your frozen heart began to melt. He looked like he completely belonged up there, and you realized how much you missed him. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to talk to him, so instead, every Tuesday night, you'd sneak through the kitchen, hide at the back of the bar in the shadows, then slip out before Eddie could see you. And when Eddie initiated conversation every so often, you never once brought it up.

Something about tonight was different, though. While watching Eddie on stage, you noticed he seemed distracted, looking into the crowd as if he was looking for someone specific. You couldn't help but wonder if he'd invited someone, if he had a crush or a girlfriend. You tried to ignore the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach, the feeling you recognized as jealousy. You and Eddie were barely friends, which was completely on you; you had no right to be jealous, and Eddie deserved happiness.

You sighed and slipped through the crowd, towards the kitchen door, making an early exit, but not before taking one last look at Eddie on the stage, who was scanning the crowd again, only this time, his eyes were planted on where you'd just been standing. As you turned out the door, you didn't see Eddie had noticed you as you left.

****

After a stressful day at the animal shelter, you were looking forward to a quiet night, but when you pulled up to your trailer and saw Eddie sitting on the steps waiting for you, you had a feeling a quiet day wasn't on the cards. You were puzzled though, he usually kept your interactions to - at the most - once a week, so this was unusual.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, slamming the car door behind you.

"I was having a smoke, and I knew you'd be home soon." He replied, jumping off the step, holding his hands behind his back.

"What, 'cos you know me so well?" You snipped and he shrugged.

"Well, yeah, but also because I heard your shitty car from five miles away!" He retorted and you rolled your eyes. You walked past him, which made him jump backward, keeping whatever he was hiding behind his back away from you. This piqued your interest and you raised your eyebrow as you tried to peek around him, but he just grinned as he stepped backward some more.

"Alright Munson, what's going on?"

"I haven't heard you play your record player for a while, do you still have it?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah...why?"

"I have something for you. Consider it a birthday gift."

"Are you forgetting my birthday was four months ago?" You smirked.

"Are you forgetting you weren't exactly talking to me then?" He snapped back, a twinkle in his stupidly beautiful brown eyes.

"I'm barely talking to you now, so why the gift?" You retorted.

"Just...here."

He pulled a bag from behind his back and you took it from his outstretched hand, ignoring and definitely not wondering if he felt the sparks that you felt when your hands touched. You furrowed your brow and glanced up at him as he watched you pull out the gift with big brown eyes and bated breath.

It was a record of Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper, and your grin got wider, for no reason other than he had bought you a record, and maybe a little at the thought of Eddie Munson buying a Cyndi Lauper record. You turned the record over in your hands as you looked up at Eddie.

"Thanks Munson." You said, then you chuckled. "Why this song, though? I mean, it's a fucking great song, but..." You trailed off.

Eddie shrugged, a small blush creeping over his cheeks as he tried to hide behind his mass of curls and ringed hand.

"It just reminded me of you." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you pursed your lips, stifling a laugh. "I heard it on the radio, alright? In the truck on the way to band practice!"

"Sure, whatever you say." You giggled. "You wanna come in and listen to it with me?"

Eddie gasped, and you threw your head back in exasperation as Eddie staggered backwards, dramatically. "Whoa, hold up. Are we about to hang out?"

"Are you going to make a big deal out of it?"

"Me? When have you known me to ever make a big deal out of anything?!" He shouted, and you were pretty sure the whole of Hawkins heard him.

"Oh my God, Munson." You laughed, unlocking your trailer door. "Just get in here, and you better have some smokes, you're not stealing all mine!"

***

A few hours had passed, and truthfully, you could've stayed in this bubble forever. With you lying on the floor, and Eddie lying on the couch, a cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth; the record player played quietly in the corner, you were starting to feel a resemblance of how you used to before everything went to shit.

"So...I know you were at my show last night." Eddie said. He'd tried to make it sound casual, but you knew that he'd be wanting to say something since he got here.

Just play dumb, just play dumb. "Was I?"

"Yep. Your car was parked behind the building, near the back exit for the kitchen."

Fuck.

"Oh."

"Oh? OH? That's all you have to say?!" Eddie exclaimed, his head whipping up off the arm of the couch to look at you. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Where were you stood? I couldn't see you anywhere."

"Um-"

"What did you think? We've gotten better, right?" Eddie was swarming you with questions and you groaned loudly.

"Oh my God, Munson, chill out with the fucking questions!" You half yelled, and his face dropped slightly.

"I'm sorry! I just don't know why you wouldn't mention it. Your first show in a year and you don't tell me you're coming? We've been friend-"He caught himself, and sighed. "-we've been back on talking terms for ages now, I just don't understand why you hid?"

"Drop it, Munson." You warned.

"You know, it's really fucking suspicious that you won't answer me."

"I just don't want to talk about it."

"Well, why not?" Eddie pestered. He began to say your name, over and over, shoving you with his foot that dangled off the couch.

"Oh my God, fine!" You yelled. "Maybe that wasn't the first show I've been to."

Silence fell over the trailer as the record scratched, signaling the end of the album. You glanced up at Eddie, who was staring at you, or rather, through you. He had big, Bambi eyes anyway, but you had never seen them this wide. His jaw was practically on the floor, and you sat up just enough to put your fingers under his chin and close his mouth.

"It's not that serious, Munson." You said, leaning across the table to grab the half-smoked blunt and a lighter. You sparked the blunt and took three tokes, before offering it to Eddie.

"You, uh- you've been to our shows?" He squeaked.

You nodded and watched closely as he bobbed his head and smoked. Then he looked back at you, passing the blunt back to you. "When did you start coming again?"

"Does it matter?" You asked.

"It does to me." He replied. You groaned as he shrugged, his face very much mirroring a puppy begging for attention. There was something about Eddie that you always had a hard time saying no to, especially when he pulled this goddamn face on you.

"I hadn't been to a show in three months." You muttered, stubbing the end of the blunt into the ashtray.

"You've been coming for that long, and you didn't say anything?!"

"Of course I didn't! In case you haven't noticed, I've been a fucking mess!" You exploded, and the words tumbled out, like all your thoughts and feelings had finally spilled over, and they needed to come out. "I just...I got curious, and I got to the door, and I could hear you playing, and I just, I needed to see you. So I stayed in the back, hiding behind people, and I saw you on the stage looking so fucking badass and happy! I found myself coming back every week, to watch you, to see you. It was the only way I felt comfortable seeing you, and it didn't feel creepy, because you were on the stage. It's not like I had binoculars staring at you through the fucking trailer window! It's not like I ever stopped caring about you, or lov-" You caught yourself before you finished that thought, and you sighed.

At some point, Eddie had moved from the couch, to right next to you on the floor. He stared at you, fascinated, and a little amused by this rare insight into your brain, into your heart.

"You wanted to see me?" He grinned and you flung your arms up into the air as you threw yourself back onto the floor.

"Of course that's all you heard."

"No, no! I heard all of it!" Eddie insisted. "I hear everything you say, even the things you don't say!" He grabbed your hands and pulled you upright. "Why do you think I kept my distance, while also annoying you every so often?"

"Honestly, I thought you hated me." You confessed. Might as well, you thought, everything else was coming out today. You looked down at your fingers, which were playing with a thread of cotton from your ripped jeans.

"I didn't need to, you were hating yourself for the both of us." Eddie teased, but then he sighed. "Darling, I don't think I could ever hate you."

Your glanced up at him, surprised by how close he was to you. Your eyes locked with each other's, but not before yours darted to his lips, you were almost mesmerized by the way his tongue ran over them. Your heart began to race as you realized you couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't take pretending that you didn't need Eddie, that you didn't want him.

Your lips were inches from his, when he suddenly pulled away, just slightly. You pursed your lips as you leaned back, your heart dropping into your stomach, as the embarrassment of rejection washed over you. Eddie must've seen it in your face, because he grabbed your wrists gently, so you wouldn't pull away further.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest. I've been wanting to kiss you for a really long fucking time." Eddie confessed.

You felt your chest tighten, like someone was twisting your heart in their hand, and you tilted your head at him, confused.

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"If I kiss you, I won't want to stop."

Your smirk turned into a full grin, and you sat on your knees, leaning closer to Eddie.

"So don't stop then, Eddie." You whispered.

The way you breathed his name was enough to drive him crazy. He removed his hands from your wrists, cupped your cheeks, and pulled you towards him, his lips crashing down onto yours. As you kissed, you felt the final block of ice that your heart had been caged in melt away. One of Eddie's hands left your cheek and slipped under your hair, clutching to the back of your head, as his other caressed your cheek, his rings cold against your burning cheek and you found yourself never wanting this to end.

Eddie was the first one to pull back, and he rested his forehead on yours, both of you grinning, as you gained your breath back.

"That was...something." Eddie said, and you giggled, nodding in agreement. You pulled away and Eddie pulled you into his side, his arm tight around you as you rested your head on his shoulder, his fingertips tracing your bare arm softly. "It's getting late, maybe I should go."

"Hmm, you could," You murmured, glancing up at Eddie through your lashes, "Or you could stay? I mean, you only live a few trailers down."

Eddie gasped dramatically, his hand on his chest, mimicking one of the old ladies down at the church, clutching her pearls. "You mean...?"

You stood up and walked backward as you grinned. "But if you wanna go home, that's fine by me."

You laughed as Eddie crawled quickly across the trailer on all fours, before he jumped to his feet. He flung you over his shoulder, as your laughter got louder.

"There is no fucking way I'm going home just yet, Darling." He growled as he carried you to the bedroom, your giggles echoing through the trailer, making his heart soar.

Maybe, just maybe, you were going to be able to get back to the way things were after all, with a little help from Eddie Munson.