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whataboutbibi · 9 months ago

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HELLO STINK, IMMA ALIVE! It's been a month uh 😞 so so sorry for not doing this before but life at uni has been so intense this past month and I wanted to sit and read it properly, the way it deserves and give pof justice but they wouldn't leave me alone, like, i just wanna to go back to my silly fics yk🙄 ENOUGH TALKING let's get into what matters.

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.” - stop it. I'm already emotional reading this

"Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about." SIX MONTHS MISS MA'AM??? how long did I sleep?

"He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions." - these two make me emo in the best way 🥹

"He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him." help I loved the plot it caugh me off guard tbh

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her"- as he should btw

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds. - Aww this reminds me of that one time when Eddie called Jeff's gf "chick" (Naomi I think) and he said the same thing to eddie 😃

"And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes." ME?

God, you’re really fucking here. - LETS FUCKING GOOO

"He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper."

You missed him. God, you missed him so much. :(

"It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working." *realising rockstar!eddie it's not just the aesthetic but his actual fucking job lol 😭

"Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together." YES YES YES I was rooting for them too

"It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door." - no bc I'd be already freaking the fuck out

You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him. - so glad when writers give Wayne justice ��🏼

Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.” - what 😧

Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you. - the way birdie didn't wasted a sec 💀💀 She's my hero y'all

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.” - well if birdie doesn't want it I VOLUNTEER MYSELF AS A TRIBUTE 🙋‍♀️

"It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time." FINALLY!!

"There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly." - DICKNOTIZED? LMAO

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks. - ...Are we sure this is the same man that ran her over with a golf cart and broke her ankle at the beginning?

You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.” - STOP I LOVE HIM SM this is brilliant

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.” - and i wanna see it. Epilogue when 🤗

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?” -oh😦

“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?” wtf did he wrote on that album I'm scared💀

"Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind." - 😦 now I get it.

"It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’" - their chemistry is INSANE. it's so good to witness how things flow between them cause they can be feral over each other but so emotionally intimate at the same time. Does it even make sense?

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.” - he's a hater to his core.

"There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name."

"The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?" -SINCE THE FOURTH. the fourth WEEK?

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask. Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.” - boy was scheming

You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back. - THIS IS PRECIOUS I'm gonna CRY

"Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers."

“You know…It’s past midnight.” - yeah well...

His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.” - You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.” - when he goes celibate for us <3

“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs."

All of us and birdie rn:

And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again. After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?" - woah and I'll never be the same again stink 😭 I'm so glad I found the series, it was fun to keep up with it and you ended it just the way they deserved <3

Also, sorry for talking too much I have to contain myself. But that's it for now. I'll miss it SM! Byee stink 🫶🏼🥲

PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)

AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks

i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat

contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3

word count: 10.6k

| previous part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”

Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.

That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.

The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.

The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”

What a bullshit fucking question.

Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?

Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.

And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”

It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.

“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.

Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.

Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.

You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.

Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.

He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.

Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!

And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left.

He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”

Anna nearly gagged then.

Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting.

“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.

“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”

Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.”

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.

Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.

Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”

Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.

And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes.

Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.

You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.

God, you’re really fucking here.

Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.

He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.

His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.

He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”

Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.

“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”

It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.

His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”

The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.

The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.

You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.

Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.

You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”

You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”

The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.

It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.

Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.

“I thought you’d be way more upset.”

Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.

You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.

He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.

You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.

You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”

You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.

Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”

“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?

Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”

Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.

Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”

Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”

Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.”

“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.

It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.

It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.

It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.

Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away.

“How's that for a kiss?”

Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.

You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”

You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.

There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.

Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about.

Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.

“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.

You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”

You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.

His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?

Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.

You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”

Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”

Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”

Honey, honey, honey.

You want to drown in it.

You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.

“Copy that, madam.”

He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.

He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.

God, he’s relentless.

You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”

He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”

And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.

A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.

Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.

You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.

Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”

You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.

“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.

“Did you listen to the albums?”

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Oh my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.

You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.

Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”

“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.

Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.

Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.

“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”

You snort, “Negative.”

You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”

Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.

You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”

He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.

It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.

“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”

“You’re just playing nice.”

“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?

“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”

It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”

You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.

Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.

Your blink, “I— no?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”

And, ouch.

That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?

“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.

Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.

Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”

“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”

Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.

You sold me out to save yourself

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.

“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”

Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.

“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”

You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”

Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.

Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.

It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’

But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.

He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.

Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin.

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”

Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.

He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.

He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.

You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.

The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?

He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.

He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”

Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”

There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name.

It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.

Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.

Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”

You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”

Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.

You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”

Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.

“You know…It’s past midnight.”

“Fffuck–”

Eddie’s dead.

He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?

Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.

Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.

Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.

“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.

“You want me?” He asks.

Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.

And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”

Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.

You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”

You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.

You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.

“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”

You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”

You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.

You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.

Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.

It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.

Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.

Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.

Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.

You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”

The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.

Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.

“Lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you.

It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.

He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.

He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”

“Jesus fuck— turn around.”

You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.

His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.

He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.

You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.

You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”

Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”

You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.

He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.

It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.

Supernova shit or something like that.

Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”

“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”

You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.

He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.

“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”

You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.

“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”

“Now you’re just stringing me along.”

You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”

Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”

He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?

————

the end.

————

a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS

if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹

the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3

anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

@mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking @mysteris-things @amazingori @honey-eyed-munson @saintlike78 @eddieslooneymoonie @alexa4040 @yujyujj

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anime-boy09 · 3 years ago

Text

Sukuna X Fem!reader lemon

Synopsis - You live in a house with Megumi, Nobara and Yuji Itadori/Sukuna. You understand Yuji and Sukuna do switch out while having the same body, and it is no big deal. Yuji is pretty fun to be around and you enjoy his energy. Whenever Sukuna is out, he always gets a little handy. This is a college au but everyone can still use their cursed arts.

NSFW Warning: 18+, some holding down stuff, overstimulation, dominant!sukuna, teasing, smut, vaginal stuff, edging, some butt stuff? Very little though.

Note: uhh, this is my first time writing stuff like this XD so bear with me!

Words: 3.2K

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It was a long day for you. College studies and work. The skies were dark by the time you got home and you were ready to relax.

You noticed Yuji come out of his room, looking sleepy.

“Oh, [your name] you’re home! Whats up??” He bounced over to you.

“Hey Itadori, well...pretty freaking beat but I’m alright.” You take your jacket off and hang it on a hook. Then, you made your way to a couch and plopped down on it.

“Worked ya’ hard today, huh?” He entered the kitchen that was nearby, opening the fridge to search for a good snack.

You nodded. Your job wasn’t necessarily a difficult one, but a busy one. You worked at a local coffee shop near the college you attended. Because it was on campus, it was always full of students and teachers alike.

“I’ll probably take a shower soon and then head to bed for the night..” You checked your phone for a bit, searching through messages and notifications.

Yuji made a muffled sound as he was munching on some melon bread he found in the fridge.

“Shounds good! (sounds good)” He finished eating the bread quickly before continuing.

You put your phone away and stared at him intently. “No peeking this time!”

He got flustered and looked away pouting, “Was not even my fault!! Booo....”

You wagged a finger at him and stood up from the couch. He was cute when he pouted. You giggled and then headed towards the bathroom door, opening and closing it behind you. You made sure to lock the door.

Definitely don’t need any surprises tonight.

You started undressing from your work uniform. You pulled your pants down along with your panties. Then unbuttoned your shirt and slid it off to reveal your blouse and bra underneath.

The cold air felt nice on your warm skin. You finished undressing and set the clothes aside to a corner of the bathroom. You then turned on the shower and made sure it was set to a warm setting.

After a moment, you stepped into the shower and slid the shower door closed. The water hits your skin like a breath of fresh air. You sat under the water for a moment and then took some body wash to scrub your skin down.

You washed your arms and chest first. Your breasts weren’t too big of an issue, but sometimes it made your upper back hurt. You moved to your stomach and sides, humming along to a popular song that was stuck in your head.

The doorknob jiggled from the outside, though you did not hear it at first. You continued to wash your legs and hips, your body relaxing. It jiggled again and you stopped to look towards the door through the tinted glass.

“Don’t even think about it!” You called out, worried that Yuji was attempting to get into the bathroom. You knew Yuji was kind of a perv, but you also thought he was adorable at the same time. Maybe you had a slight crush on him..but now’s not the time to be thinking about this!

That other part of him was a force to be reckoned with. You know he’s a curse who is technically Yuji too. But...he’s also different.

He’s not afraid to be forward and blunt. He’s made nasty comments about your “innocent” body here and there. Although they were uncalled for remarks, you could not lie about how it made you feel.

Was it because he was a thousand year old demon? A deity that can take you down. You bit your lip a little.

“Oh! Snap out of it…!” You told yourself and patted your cheeks, flustered. Sukuna was also technically Yuji.

Yuji and you were pretty good friends too...

The doorknob did not jiggle again and the only noise came from the shower.

You were not sure about what the noise was. Maybe it was your imagination playing tricks?

You sighed, too tired for this shit. You continued to wash your face and hair. It was quiet for a time being.

“You think you can lock yourself away? Naughty girl.” The sultry sound of someone's voice whispered in your ear from behind.

You whipped your body around but no one was in the shower with you. Confused, you covered your body up with your arms.

“Y-You better not be in here!!” You growled through your teeth. You heard a deep, lavish chuckle from inside the bathroom.

“But, I am displeased at this moment. Do continue cleaning that dedicant body of yours.” His voice was velvety and rich with pleasure.

You blushed and put your hand on the door handle to keep it closed.

“H-how did you even get in here??” You stuttered out, covering your chest with a free arm.

The voice laughed and sucked his teeth before replying.

“Were you thinking of me? You’re so flustered. Also, I am not a feeble human like you are. I have my ways” He put his hand on the shower door, and you could see the shadow of his body.

The shower door flung open and there stood what looked like Yuji standing outside the shower. His pink hair was pushed back, thick tattoos lined his face and his eyes were crimson red.

You squeaked and covered yourself, embarrassed.

“Now, [your name] there is no need to be modest.” Sukuna entered the shower with you after taking off his shirt. He left his shorts on for the time being.

You backed up into a far corner of the shower, intensely blushing. Perhaps you have thought about moments like this one before.

But you never thought it would come into fruition like this!

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as Sukuna came closer to you. His eyes scanned over your wet, naked body. It felt as if he was looking straight through you. Feeling you up without doing so.

Your body stood frozen by the corner. You wanted to push him out and yell at him, but you felt hypnotized. Your eyes didn’t meet his.

“G-get out! I-i’m…!” Before you could reply, he reached out to grab your chin to force you to look at him.

“Poor little lamb. Cowering in the corner...Look at me. I know your body yearns.” His lips pull into a grin.

You were kind of turned on by this..shit. You thought to yourself. You’re playing into him...but you can’t stop.

You try to move away from his grasp. Sukuna let go of your chin, only to grab your wrists and pin them above your head.

You were now fully exposed to the King of Curses. You squeaked when you realized your body was up for grabs.

“Let go! you!...Ah!” You tried to yell at him, but his free hand started fondling your body.

“Many nights, I wanted to do this. In the bed, in the living room...but this prison of a brat traps me. It’s so disappointing…”

You bit your lip so nothing would escape. “W-why not go for Nobara or something??” You look at his eyes this time, as they gazed upon your own.

“Her? That crazy bitch? Don’t make me laugh.” His grip tightened your wrists. With a smirk, he pinched one of your wet nipples which made you gasp.

“That’s what I like to hear instead. Come on, louder.” He pinched harder which made your body

You flinch away from his touch.

You were stubborn. This demon looking guy was the King of Curses who could easily take you down.

In more ways than one.

You just glared into his eyes, and ceased all noise. This made him impatient. Maybe that was not a good move on your end.

“Oho~? Gonna be tough for me, girlie? Two can play at this game. I will get what I want.” His voice sounded rough and lavish, which sent chills up your spine.

He let go of your wrists, but somehow they were still in place. You were confused by this and attempted to move them forwards. Nothing was budging.

They were being held by his second pair of arms.

“Sukuna! Agh, let me gooo!” You whined, wiggling in the corner. He watched your breasts move about, his gaze moving towards your hips.

The stream of water was still running, drenching your hair. Sukuna’s shorts were getting wet and you swore you could start seeing an outline of something...big.

He moved to press his lips against your soft skin, starting at your stomach and going lower...and lower….

You could squeeze your legs shut, but it was no use. His large hand was pressed into your thigh, keeping it firmly in place.

The next thing you knew, his soft tongue was pressing into your womanhood. Your body shivered and you let a small whine out of your mouth.

“Ahhh, you’re already drenched. Dirty girl. You’re in luck..I’m hungry.” He said the last part with an evil chuckle and continued to drag his rough tongue up and down your folds.

This was a new feeling to you. Of course you’ve had sensual activities before, but nothing like this.

Your hips move by themselves against his tongue. Damn, this felt good, you thought to yourself.

There was no hesitation in his movements. He grabbed your ass tight too which made you moan out.

“Stay put, girlie! Damn!” He slapped your ass which made you squeak from that too. You whined and tried to keep your hips still. “Ugh, let me do what I want” He shot a glare up at me with his red eyes.

You met his gaze with your own glazed eyes.

He kept lapping at your womanhood and started focusing on that little button of yours. This made your back arch against the back of the shower. You shook your head from how sensitive it was.

This only made Sukuna want more of you.

He began to suck on it harshly without a break. You gasped and whined against the shocks that boiled up in your stomach.

“S-sukuna..~” You moaned out unconsciously. He smirked and then pulled his face away from your womanhood.

“What is it, you little slut? Want more? You’re going to have to beg.” He dug his nails into your thighs and dragged them.

Why is he so good at this?! You thought to yourself, your body shuddering.

“N-no…! I-I don’t…” You looked away from him and bit your lip. This was not the answer he was looking for from you. He frowned and slapped your ass, putting his hand right in the middle, lifting one of your cheeks. You squeaked from the sudden slap.

You felt something wet and thick enter your behind, teasing the other hole.

You audibly gasped and wiggled from the feeling. What was this?!

Sukuna had two arms holding your wrists up, one on your behind and another holding your leg up. He moved closer to your face with an evil smirk.

His hand had opened a mouth and extended a tongue between your cheeks.

“...I said, beg for it, slut.” His tongue on his hand didn’t go deep, just enough to drive you crazy. It kept gliding past this second hole and your entrance ever so gently.

Your hips attempted to follow the lapping tongue’s movements but it was just close enough to every sensitive bit down there to irritate you. You moved your hips around and whined at the roughness of the tongue.

“P..please…” You panted out, your body quivering.

“Please...what?” He pulled his hand away from your behind and the mouth disappeared on it. He grabbed your face with it.

“Please s-sir....b-but..out of the shower?” You wanted more. The shower water was increasingly annoying.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and picked you up in his arms abruptly. You had no time to react. He booked it to your bedroom and slammed you down on the bed angrily.

“You’re fucking lucky no one else is here right now..” He growled and pushed your knees up to your chest to continue his meal.

“What-! Ahh~...” You whined out, feeling his warm mouth back onto your folds. His grip was so strong that you could barely move. Everything was tingling and sensitive.

He then slid two fingers inside of your entrance, moving them violently in and out of you. You practically screamed at the sudden movements inside your walls.

“Yeah? I want to hear more, (Your name).” His long fingers hit every inch of your insides, and it felt so good. Your womanhood was quivering and you felt like you were getting close.

“S-sukuna...I-i’m going t-to-” You could barely speak but those were the words that were stuttering out. He smirked again and took his fingers out.

Your body was trembling with anticipation, waiting for a release. You were just about to come when he stopped. You pouted and looked at Sukuna, wondering what his plan was.

“You are not allowed to have all the fun. My turn. Flip over.” He barked at you. You flipped your body over onto your knees, looking up at him.

He dropped his shorts and stood menacingly in front of you; his gaze was intimidating to you.

His member was...intense. He pushed it against your lips. “Open them.”

You obeyed him and opened your mouth. He grabbed the back of your head and moved it up and down on his member. You whined against his size and started sucking properly.

Sukuna leaned his head back and groaned at the feeling of your warm mouth.

“Mm...you feel hot, [your name]...” He breathed deeply as you wrapped your tongue around him.

You had no control over your head at first. His cock was forcing itself in and out of your small mouth, close to your throat. This made you gag and want to pull away from him. He stopped briefly and let you move your head to the side to cough.

“I-i’m sorry...ack!” your own spit was running down your chin, as you looked up to him like a puppy dog. Tears glistened the corners of your eyes. Sukuna raised a hand to your cheek and pushed them away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry on me...I should be apologizing…!.” a softer voice spoke. It sounded like Yuuji’s. His eyes looked apologetic, but turned on. He didn’t appreciate Sukuna throwing you around but, what could he do? When the Lord of Curses was in this hot and heavy mood, nothing changed until he was finished.

The hand that nicely rested on the side of your cheek, then grabbed your mouth and squeezed your face together.

“Why did you stop? Because your small mouth can’t handle my cock?” He scuffed at you. “I know what can though” He smirked and your eyes widened, shaking your head.

“P-please...n-not there!” Your blush intensified. You have done it before but with his size...there’s no way!

Sukuna pushed you over and spread your legs. He was about to push himself in when you stopped him. “Wait! Protection!” You motioned to a nearby dresser and he rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? You don’t want to bear my offspring?” He chuckled and you narrowed your eyes at him. “How disappointing…fine, I will listen to you this time, on one condition. Make a deal with me beforehand.”

You gulped and leaned up onto your elbows. Making a deal with a demon seems sketchy, especially in the predicament you are in right now. “... what’s your deal?” You replied cautiously.

“I will wear protection...if you let me go hard and do what I need to do.” He ran a finger along the inner side of your thigh. This made you shiver. You are definitely not walking straight after this.

You bit your lip and nodded “O-okay..” You felt your body heat up as he went to put on a condom. Once he was back, you had moved to your stomach, butt up in the air for him.

He didn’t care what position you were in, he just wanted to be pleasured. He grabbed your hips and pressed his member against your entrance.

“It’s gonna be so good, girlie. You’ll want more” He then pushed in without a second thought. You barely had time to get used to it as you moaned out.

Your legs trembled at the feeling of his girth stretching you wide. You wondered if Yuji was able to feel this as well...you felt embarrassed for a second. It didn’t last long because Sukuna started going fast and hard into you.

You squeaked and then started moaning with every push, your mind melting away. He grunted, feeling your insides squeeze and pulse around his member.

“T-too….fast!” You managed to whine out as you squeezed the sheets. He replied with a slap on your ass. You yelped out, taking that as a warning to keep quiet.

. You made a deal with him and that deal stands until he releases.

The thrusting continued, on and on...your mind felt like jello. You moaned and whined with each passing push.

Your body started to tremble from the amount of times you’ve come. You attempt to pull yourself away from his grasp and he notices.

“...where are you heading to...slut?” He panted and grabbed your arms, pinning them behind your back. With those arms he brought you to sit up on your knees.

Sukuna slowed his pace and whispered in your ear seductively. “...ohhh [your name]~ your pussy makes me feel soooo good.” His tongue glided up your sensitive ears, your heart skipping a beat.

“That’s a good girl. Obey me…” He had all four arms out once again, like he did in the shower. This meant he had more control over your alluring body. He reached around your body with curious hands, one landing on your breast and another by your cunt.

You gasp at the feeling of hands assaulting your overstimulated body. He cupped your breast in his hand, giving it a loving squeeze.

“...Say my name.” The wandering hand by your cunt began to tease your button. The one part of your body that seemingly shut you down whenever it was pleasured.

You shook your head, moaning out “No! S-sukuna..!” Your hips swayed from side to side, in over to avoid his fingers. His hips moved faster, holding you in place with your arms forcefully.

“Don’t make me angry...little girl~. I have many plans for you.” His thrusts grew impatient as he quicked his hips once more. He was growing close and you could tell.

His sultry moans were echoing the room with your own voice. He continued to spin his finger tips around the top of your clit, teasing your hood.

He pinched and twisted your little button within his quick fingertips, sending continuous moans out your mouth.

The wave of overstimulation crept up your spine and into your stomach.

You had no time to react to letting yourself squirt all over the sheets. You came over his cock, making your walls squeeze tightly against him. This made him groan and lose himself a little.

“[your name]....o-oh yeah…!” He came into the condom and held you close to his glistening body. He dug his sharp teeth into your shoulder, breaking the skin. You gasped from the bite and felt his member get warm on the inside.

He let go of your bruised shoulder and pulled out of your sore cunt. Your sore body fell to the bed, quivering and panting. Sukuna groaned and tossed the filled condom into a nearby trash.

You were gonna feel this one tomorrow for sure. You squeezed your eyes shut and relaxed for a moment. Sukuna saw that you weren't getting up or moving right away and leaned down into your face.

"Yo girlie, you good? This brat is worried." He motioned to himself, meaning Yuji. You slowly nodded and replied, "y-yeah...just need a second..."

He sighed and plopped down on the bed next to your body.

"w-what are you doing...I said i'll be okay.." You looked over to him, laying next to you. Without looking, he grabbed the back of your head and forced it into his chest.

"Just stop talking."

You weren't expecting this...kindness? He was so rough a moment ago and now he's a different person. Maybe Yuji's yelling at him? It didn't matter now...all you wanted to do was rest, if only for a moment.

#jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #anime #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x y/n

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saturatedboy · 3 years ago

Note

Hai! Can i request something can you please do a Donna x gn!reader where donna is a goddess who fell inlove with a cannibal reader ( just love the thought of the reader coming back home with blood still on their mouth and donna would scold them but would find it hot at the same time )

If it's alright ofc

Donna x GN!Reader

-I am more than happy to fill out your request! This was so much fun to write and I really hope you enjoy as much as I did writing it.

-Requests: Open

Trigger Warning: Mentions of cannibalism and blood.

Well, well, well- that was sure an an entertaining fight.

Crouching down, your slightly cherry eyes scanned over the blissful ,now forever sleep, deceased women. Her eyes were left open to become crisp within the open air that casted a spell of arctic weather. Her pale thin lips was slightly agape as she had breathed in her breath of her last. Her dress had became shreds once she was in your grasp, being easily taken down from your weight and height. She looked nothing more than a pile of shredded meat. Although that didn't sound pleasing to a sane mind, you was relishing in the smell of fresh metallic blood. Seeing some of it spill into the snow below had forced a small growl to bubble in your throat. That was good blood wasted, you just had to hope that there was more in her than was spilled. You could've been caught but for now you hadn't. Your animalistic growls had most likely sent a warning towards the village that wasn't even as far as 50 feet away from you and the women.

She had been walking through the gates whilst you had been leaning against them. Back a few moments ago, you were just a normal human. Eating normal food much to your dismay, drinking their berried juice and taking part in their culture towards Mother Miranda. As your eyes gazed over the woman that had walked out, you watched her trip over a rock and smash her knee into the ground. Her soft cries had awoken your true self up. Biting your bottom lip, you looked back at the village and made a choice to follow the woman into the forest, however, her blood was dripping down her leg as she continued her walk, not even getting far away from the village before you had jumped her and clawed her from the back. She had tried to fight back, screaming for someone to help her from your sinful self but you were so caught up in the small smell of blood that you just had to get a taste.

And that is how you had became to straddle the dead woman on the snowy floor. Behind you, you could hear the cheers of shocked children who had heard the woman's cries only to be met with your back faced towards them as you kept her down. At first, the children thought nothing of it. Maybe the woman had been laughing at first but oh no- their innocence would be shattered when they watched you push yourself down so your mouth hovered over her knee. Giving the cut a small kitty lick, you raised your head all the way back and clasp open your jaw, revealing two rows of sharp teeth that had sprouted out from your gums. Saliva had became thick in your mouth, acting as a lubricant so anything that goes into your mouth would easily be swallowed.

Thrusting your head back down, you clamped your jaw around her knee, feeling the pulse of your own heart rate speed up. The distance cries of the children were forgotten by your mind as you clasped shut your eyelids together. Ripping the meat of the woman's leg, you swirled your tongue around it savouring the taste of each second. Swallowing was an easy task for yourself, all you had to do was angle your head fully back so the meat could easily be pushed down your throat and to your stomach. After eating that mouthful, you had went down for another bite, more blood splattering against the ground and your hands as you separated the skin off the bones.

A sudden shot had made you shoot up and look back. There was most of the village watching in horror as you smiled and waved at them. Seeing your blooded state, some men and women had fainted. Mothers had covered their younglings eyes as you flashed and bared your teeth in a teasing manner. The girl at the very front stood with a loaded rifle, pointing it at you with shaky arms. 'No wonder she missed' you thought, being amused at the brave girl who is trying to get revenge on you for murdering her mother.

"Get away from my MOTHER!" She screamed, shooting another shot at you only this time it had pieced your front of the right shoulder. You shrugged and got up, biting the inside of your cheek and tried your best not to whine out in pain. Although in serious pain, your cheeky side was still showing through. Crouching down once again, you dragged the deceased woman from the ground back into the forest with yourself hearing the screaming of the girl more and the villages holding her back telling her to forget about it.

Once far into the snowy forest, you feasted upon the body making sure to leaved just bones. This was the best meal you had ever since you had last feasted which was at least a month ago. Licking your hands clean of the tainted blood, you had threw the bones at a lycan who had came to watch the show. "Maybe next time," You spoke, letting your shark-like teeth sink back into your gums and eyes be glazed over with their neutral colour. Your mind was brought back however after the transformation to the gun-shot wound. Hunching over and grabbing tightly onto your shoulder, you heaved yourself back towards your home that you shared with someone else. You smiled at the though of seeing your lover once again. How mad she would be with you, it just riled you up in a good way. How naughty she could be when she was annoyed or even frustrated and yet just a simple flirt from you would leave her into a stammering mess and forgetting her task on why she was scolding you in the first place.

The manor wasn't too far away from your current spot, maybe another 5 minute walk at most. As you walked, you had tried to experiment by sticking your finger into the gun-shot hole. Never. Again.

After the quick experiment that you had immediately regretted, your eyes went wide as saucers as you looked up ahead and saw the manor looming in the light grey fog. Running and letting you rather long tongue hang from your mouth, you jumped up the steps like a small child and knocked on the door with a fast fist. When you heard movement from within, you stood back and bounced on the heels of your shoes still holding your shot shoulder.

You whine happily as the door opened, revealing a Goddess in your eyes of creativity and masterpieces. "Donna!" You squealed out loud, jumping towards her to hug her only for her to step to the side with a displeased look. You fell inside on your stomach, groaning in pain. The gentle bang on the door had shut it, and the clicking of Lady Beneviento's shoes had forced you to roll onto your back and stare up at the petite woman with a pained grin. "Hey beautiful~" You flirted, sending a wink towards her way. She scoffed with a deep scarlet blush and learned down only to prod at your hand covering your arm.

"Not only have you brought dirt, mud and snow into the home," She said as she forced your hand back away from your shoulder, "You have also gotten yourself hurt. Now c'mon, the quicker you're all fixed up the quicker I can keep a watchful eye on you cannibal." You pouted at her words, being clean wasn't much of your style but if she wanted you to be clean you'll push through your dislikes to impress her.

Pulling yourself off the ground, you followed the Goddess in black to the bathrooms where she had started the shower. She turned back to face you and called for Angie her doll. Soon the doll had swiftly entered the same room with a pout of her own. "Don't make me baby sit them pleaseeee," Angie had cried out, pointing an accusing finger at you. You lightly gasp playfully and pointed back at her,

"Yeah don't leave me in here with her. Ya know she throws toilet paper into the shower-"

"I do not!" She defended, swirling around to stay behind Donna who looked stressed.

"Yes. you. do" You called back, sticking your tongue out. Angie growled and pushed Donna towards you, playfully winking at you. You held Donna in your arms as she tried to wriggle out your grip.

"Let. me gooo," She whined out, twisting left and right and tried to push herself away from you. Angie laughed and called some other of Donna's creations into the bathroom to watch the playful scene. They clapped and jumped about, getting excited at the new game it seemed you and Donna was playing. Forcing Donna to stop squirming, you held her close and leaned your head to rest on her shoulder. "You're going to get blood on me..."

"Oh I know sweetie," A fast reply came from your mouth as you kissed her under her jaw making her gasp slightly at the contact. Her hands bad tightened on your biceps as she shook slightly. You let out a breathy chuckle as you let her go and backed away giving her space. "So, imma get cleaned now," You said whilst walking around the frozen Goddess licking your lips slightly s you got rid to the best of your abilities the dried up blood. However once coming back to reality, Donna huffed and turned to face you about to give you a scolding as she normally did until she saw you licking the blood off your lips.

Walking quickly, she grabbed the cloth that rested in the sink and made her way back to the shower to rinse the cloth under it. After she squeezed and twisted the cloth till all excess water had dripped out, she then followed up to your figure as you were trying to get Angie to point out where you missed licking the blood. Donna had grabbed you by your left shoulder and turned you around to face her briskly. As you turned, you was met with a damp cloth on your lips, the occasional movement of Donna's fingers brushing your cheek as she did so. She moved the cloth in circular motions, staring at your lips as she bit her own gently. You loved her touch, it was so soft and gentle. Being in her arms every now and again was worth any bullet to the shoulder. Once done, she gently took the cloth off your face and let her dainty thumb brush along your bottom lip.

"Get a room you two," Angie said as she watched the whole thing go down. She was sat on the sink edge, holding her head in her hand as she rested her elbow on her knee. She looked half asleep, most likely from working all day or playing with the other puppets. Donna coughed to cover up her embarrassment and took a step back placing her hands neatly folded in front of her.

"I'll be going now, get cleaned please." She left with Angie following her however just as Angie rounded the corner of the door, she popped her head back through and blew a raspberry at you. You laughed and strolled towards the door to shut it. Placing the lock on, you stripped bare and got pumped to go in the shower. You already knew the pain you were going to suffer from this.

The day had turned to night and you were bundled up in the kitchen working over a pot of stew. You had a loose shirt on covering your bandages around your right shoulder. It was a pain to get in the shower, your shoulder had felt like it was on fire and you hated every second of it. However luckily for you, Donna had some ointment for you to use after to be able to have a quicker healing wound. You swatted away the sweat that had slipped down your forehead and went back to stirring the pot. It was your night to cook for your family and for once you weren't going to use human meat like you had before- actually that's how Donna found out that your perfect figure in her eyes was a cannibal. She was shocked at first but got used to the smell of blood that had normally lingered on your lips after a meal outside. Angie on the other hand was enthusiastic at the new claim that you loved eating your own flesh. She kept asking if you were to bite into someone would they become a vampire? Or if when your eyes turned their cherry colour would you see the world in red? So many questions yet boring answers to each one, her words not yours.

You felt a pair of arms snake around your waist as you continued cooking. You felt a weight lean against your body as you placed the wooden spoon down off to the side. Turning around, you held Donna in your arms. "It smells good," She spoke, keeping her head in your chest. You lightly laughed and pattered her back, using your other hand to hold her head close to you. Slowly you both had started to sway enjoying the warmth of each other.

"It smells good because I cooked it," You smiled at her, chuckling at her reaction which was a raised eye brow and a smug smile.

"Yes, obviously it's because of that," She remarked, letting you go and giving you a short pec on the lips. She backed away from you and turned her attention to the table which was set for two. A candle was lit and flowers in a pot where placed in a vase in the middle. "Where did you get those flowers from?" She asked, turning to look at you with hands on her hips. You sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of your neck, making your own move of going back to stirring the pot of stew.

"Definitely not your garden,"

"...You're lucky I love you dear." The sound of a chair being pulled out made you smile sweetly at yourself with closed eyes.

Yes, you were very lucky to have her.

#donna beneviento #lady donna beneviento #resident evil donna #angie beneviento #angie the doll #resident evil x reader #residentevil8 #x reader #donna x reader #resident evill village #oneshot

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kkatastrophic · 6 months ago

Text

LETS GOOO I WROTE 2,000 WORDS IN 2 HOURS IN ONE SITTING WITHOUT STOPPING LETS FUCKING GOOOO!!! (<- Haven't done that all year.)

Link:

I haven't changed my tumblr username since September I'll change it to marketable-smoogie-plush later lol.

Premise:

Leon and Sayaka are elected into Hope's Peak Academy as the SHSL Baseball player and Idol. When they meet and become aware that their fate as the Chapter One Victim and Culprit will always stay the same, they work together to find a plan to live longer than their deadline.

Sample Text for people who don't know if they want to read it yet:

Sayaka then heard the brown-haired boy speak for the first time.

"Huh? Then you guys are all...?"

The conversation continued, everybody speaking normally. Almost automated, like a switch had come on. Chatter continued among the students as a black haired boy scolded the new student for being late to his first day at the Academy.

"I don't like this shit..." Leon spoke quietly so the others didn't hear him. He looked nervously at Maizono and scanned her up and down. "Aren't you going to say something... please tell me I'm not alone here. Otherwise this is ending up like every other time and I'm going to end up-"

Sayaka snapped back to reality and turned to face Kuwata.

"What? What are you talking about?" She asked, she fiddled with her blue hair nervously looking up at him. She didn't notice how many piercings he had until she was up close, they shone under the fluorecent light.

"So you're not like them?" He was unsure at first, but seemed slightly more relieved when she nodded firmly.

Okay but after reading @rainbow-crane make their character analysis for Sayaka I realise how much of a placeholder tutorial guide she is.

Like @yukiteruakari told me about the idea that first and second (I MIGHT BE WRONG ABOUT THE CONCEPT AND IM SO SORRY IF I AM) and how they're in a loop trying to stop Danganronpa, but Leon always ends up being the first blackened, he does everything to stop it. But Sayaka each time breaks the fourth wall and helps the player through challenges.

It's almost like she knows what's going to happen - she can't stop it - but this isn't the first makoto, this is the 5-millionth Makoto (based on copies bough in 2021).

They have no idea what they're doing or what they're in for, but she does. a "You don't know me... but I know you." kind of moment. She knows everything, but even the other characters like Aoi, Kyoko, Mondo, Kiyotaka etc. think that they're in the universe for the first time, they don't know if they're going to die, even Junko doesn't know what's going to happen.

Just Sayaka and Leon. Fighting to stop Danganronpa THH from ever beginning. And as the player if you advance you get no more guidance from them. They're stuck dead in your game, but they thrive in their version of an "au" (just another copy of the game) almost as if they're begging the player to stop. But it's against the game. It's against the code and they can't do it. They have to follow the dialogue when Makoto/placeholder/-Y-N is near. Almost as if every other character when Makoto isn't around just freezes and stands still, and Sayaka and Leon are the only ones actually functioning unless Makoto is near or they have an interaction coming up with him.

They know what happens. They know that they kill eachother. Nothing can stop it from happening, and once they die they don't continue the game. They don't know who lives and dies next because everybody else other than Makoto/Placeholder/Y-N is just coding that gets removed.

Tragic Leosaya. Tragic.

IS THIS EVEN LIKE... RELATIVELY CLOSE?

#I'm only 14 so my writing won't be fantastic #Still #dr1 #THH #Sayaka maizono #leon kuwata #kuwamai #fiction #fanfic #First is such a tragic character #leosaya #but he has potential to be strong #imagine him finding a way to manipulate things he wants #playing god #<- but it always fails #nagito ahh luck complex #labyrinth danganronpa fanfiction

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bts-reveries · 4 years ago

Text

young one | 9

(photos are kind of scattered throughout the post)

“I want banana milk! Let’s get it let’s get it!” Sian yells happily, standing in the cart.

“Hey sit down before you get hurt,” Jungkook says, pulling his wild one back in as he reaches for the banana milk the two happened to pass by. “Mommy said we can’t get any today.” Sian pouts, slumping back down in the cart.

“But why~” He whines, looking up at his dad, his lip in a pout.

“Because we’re on a budget,” Jungkook says, pushing the cart to the meat aisle.

Sian frowns, “what’s a bun jet?” Jungkook laughs.

“Budget. It means mommy gives us a certain amount of money and we can only use that much money. So we can’t keep buying stuff or else we’ll end up spending more than what mommy gave us.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and mommy gave us a list of what to buy, so we have to get that first.”

“Okay~” Sian says. He was clearly a bit sad, but nonetheless, obedient.

“Okay we just need… carrots,” Jungkook says, looking down on the list you sent him through text. Mindlessly pushing the cart as he scans through the list, mentally checking the ones he has in the cart.

“Hey!” Yelled someone in front of Jungkook. Jungkook’s head pops up looking in front of the cart where Sian was leaning over, pointing.

“Daddy you hit this lady,” he says. Jungkook’s eyes widened, quickly running over to the front of the cart to help the person pick up what she dropped when Jungkook accidentally bumped into her.

“I’m so so so sorry,” Jungkook says, picking up the different flavors of instant ramen. The two both got up at the same time.

“Here you go, I apologize, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Jungkook says sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” the girl sighs, taking the items from Jungkook’s hand. She looks up at him and her eyes widen.

“Wait.” She says, her lips curling up to a smile. “Jungkook?”

“Umm.. yeah,” Jungkook says, laughing awkwardly. Not sure who this person was.

“Do you remember me?” She asks, Jungkook looks at her, thinking really hard.

“Oh, Yuri?” The girl laughs, nodding her head.

“Yeah! Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she says, slapping her hand onto Jungkook’s arm.

“Yeah, I know. How are you? Are you still friends with the whole group?” Jungkook asks. You, Yuri, and Jungkook were friends back in college, well you joined their friend group here and there. Really, it was just Jungkook who was friends with them. With a few other guys that you two haven't seen in forever.

“Hell yeah, you’re the only one who left us,” she says, her eyes glancing over his cart.

“Is this him?” Jungkook turns to the cart at his son who was looking up at Yuri with a suspicious expression.

“Oh, yeah. Sian, this was a friend I had in college. Auntie Yuri,” Jungkook says, introducing Sian to her. Yuri crinkles her nose.

“Auntie?” Yuri laughs. “That’s weird… you can call me noona kid.”

“Noona?” Jungkook laughs, “you’re so much older than him.”

“Yes, but being called auntie makes me feel even older,” she laughs.

“So I’m guessing none of you are parents yet?”

“Of course not, don’t be silly,” Yuri says. Jungkook scoffs lightly.

“Daddy can we gooo~” Sian calls, sensing the awkward situation. “We need carrots…”

“Ah, yeah, okay,” Jungkook says, walking back behind the cart. “It was nice… bumping into you today,” he says, smiling at his dad joke.

“Yeah, you too Jungkook,” Yuri says, scanning her eyes over him and his cart. She thinks to herself how much Jungkook has changed from one of the coolest guys from school, to… this. She kind of felt bad for him.

“Can I have your number?” Yuri asks Jungkook, handing her phone before he leaves.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he says, taking her phone from her.

“Daddy, is mommy going to be home when we get there?” Sian asks, making sure he mentions his mom around Yuri as she was making him a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, you’re still with Yn?” Yuri asks.

“Yeah of course,” Jungkook says, finishing up what he’s typing. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

young one

♛ part nine: banana milk ♛

pairings: photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader

a/n: what do you think, is it starting???

taglist: @kookietsukkie @brinnalaine @chocobetterknot @silentlyimpractical @aianloveseven @jayhope88 @preciouschimine @noelitaaaa @butterflylion @yogugui @jikachoo @samros95 @yoongis-cumsock @strwberry-jam @sope-and-shine @cosmicdaylight @eatjeanjin @rjsmochii @i-swear-im-a-soft-stan @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness @prdshobi @marmaribelarova @ramyagovindraj @casspirit0705 @hopesvlle @smauslut @taexmichi @codeinebelle @cecedrake2217 @hellotherehoneybee @ddofa @winterwidow27 @ephyra1230 @heartfeltscribblings @nightapple4jk @applejuice5000 @salty-for-suga @lemonteacyst @princessjazzyjazz @bamboozled-jaykay @bigimpression @dammit-jjk @kookie-sun0097 @kookoo-kachoo @minidreamer1 @taekookcaneatme @jikooksgirl19 @tanumiki @strawberryforever25 @hobiismyhopeu

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!

to be notified when i post, please turn on my notifications! thank youu~

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years ago

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Business AU - Working Late, Part 9

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Let’s fuck things up a bit, shall we?

She woke up peacefully, the soft warmth of the early sun washing over her naked body tangled in the bedsheets. As she stretched her limbs, she found herself to be alone in bed, lazily reaching for her glasses on the nightstand nearby only so she could have a clearer view of her surroundings. Donnie was nowhere to be seen, Vee taking this moment to sit in bed, envelopping her form in the sheets and just think about last night's events. What would that make out of them? No real declarations of any sorts had been made, but the feelings were there and real, that she couldn't deny. Sure, it wasn't the first time she had slept with someone without any real attachment, but never had she felt that way with someone before... Donnie was a tender and very attentive man. She had that feeling that whatever he'd say or do, it must be true to him. She wanted to believe he would wish for them to be more... But for now she laid her expectations to rest and simply reveled in whatever was happening between them. She felt good. She felt appreciated. And, to be frank, the sex had been amazing.

She heard footsteps approaching the room, along a rolling sound. The mutant soon came in view, accompanied by a small trolley that held two plates with food, empty mugs and a pot of coffee. He was only wearing black boxer briefs and his glasses, his whole self a delectable sight. As he noticed that the woman was awake, he playfully struck a little pose while saying:

“Breakfast in bed for madame.”

That brought a soft giggle from Vee, though touched by this attention given to her. Instead of handing a plate, Donnie moved to sit by the woman's side in bed, unable to resist cupping one of her cheeks, his thumb tenderly brushing her skin. His eyes kept scanning her, his joy blooming at the mere sight of her smile.

“… Can't believe there's such a beautiful woman in my bed this morning,” he softly said.

“Can't believe such a sexy man is bringing me breakfast in bed,” replied Vee.

“I can bring more than that.”

Remnants of last night's emotions still brought some sparks in the air, Donnie's motion fluid and met halfway by Vee. It was sweet and slow, a kiss that felt like a dream. As it kept going, the terrapin started to shift his position and Vee's; soon the covers out of the way and Donnie's frame over the woman, forever careful not to be too much of a weight. They couldn't let go of one another, this morning's laziness bringing each motions to a tender point. As the terrapin was kissing at the woman's neck, she did add in a soft tone:

“What about breakfast? It's gonna get cold, just like the food last night...”

“I don't mind cooking another one later. … I'd cook one for you everyday even.”

That brought a hushed chuckle out of Vee, but deep down she was touched by that small confession. The simplicity and tenderness of this moment brought such ease in her.

“Donnie, I-...”

She stopped herself, knowing exactly what her heart wanted to say, but knowing now was not the time. Their gaze crossed, Donnie patient and Vee trying to find the right words to say next.

“... I’m so happy right now. Being with you feels so nice,” she ended.

“It does feel nice, indeed,” first replied the terrapin in a sweet tone. “... I could spend the rest of my life like this.”

Vee felt speechless, trying her best to read his emotions. He did sound sincere, but maybe it was this honeymoon type of feeling that was talking as well.... In any case, she prefered to kiss him in answer, knowing she did think the same as well. It was much preferable to live in this present moment, rather than worry in speculations.... At least, only for this morning.

***

That Monday morning was as grey and rainy as it could get, the usual omen for a bad day and week to come, but in Vee’s mind and heart, it was as sunny as it could ever be. Her work started with the usual routine; reviewing the projects for the day and then handing the paperwork. Her step around the office was light, humming some tunes to herself as she distributed the documents among her team.

“You look awfully happy for a Monday morning,” started one of her coworker’s voice, a guy.

That broke her stride, turning around to the source. She noticed a small handful of employees grouped together, probably discussing first amongst themselves until they saw their manager. Vee recognized the man who had spoken, already going through her papers as she walked towards the small group.

“I had a nice weekend, that’s all,” she answered, handing him the work.

“What, you buttered up the boss enough for you to get a raise?” said the other, reluctantly taking his due.

Vee instantly frowned: “... Excuse me?”

“We saw you leave with that Donatello, Friday evening,” added another coworker, a woman. “You’re not fooling anyone. It’s been quite some time that you both have been hanging together.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your concerns,” said Vee. “We’re friends, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“Yah, sure, friends with benefits perhaps,” continued another person. “Soon you’ll benefit from a monetary gain while he benefits from your tits. Workplace logic.”

Vee was disgusted, knowing if she continued to argue, she’d make things worse: “I don’t know what’s wrong with you all, but you better mind your damn business.”

As she was walking away, she heard that last jab: “If I buy you a drink, will you give me a raise?” She did not stop, her step slightly getting faster instead. Her blood was boiling, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. At once, she wished she could simply disappear... Turning a corner, she abruptly bumped into someone, her remaining folders flying out of her hands and spilling to the floor. She felt strong hands hold her forearms, forbidding her to fall backward

“Woah there, easy. Are you alright?”

She met baby blue eyes surrounded by orange, quickly recognizing the presence as another one of her bosses: Michelangelo. She quickly nodded, trying to get a hold of her senses once more. Her eyes next scanned the floor, letting out a big sigh as she noticed the mess.

“Damn... I’m sorry,” she started. “I should’ve looked where I was going...”

“Nah, it’s fine,” smile the orange clad terrapin. “Next time I’ll be careful not to be on your war path!”

Both were already crouching down to pick up the fallen papers, Vee feeling so absent-minded by this meaningless task. All she wanted to do was to run away, to be quite frank. As Michelangelo handed her the last files, he did inquire again: “... You sure you’re alright?”

Vee faked a small smile, quick to dismiss his concern.

“Yes, I’m okay. No worries. Have a nice day, sir.”

As she got back on the move, her distress did not escape the mutant, although he did not try to push his questionning any further.

***

“What’s up, D, my man?”

Donnie paused his writing, glancing up towards his office’s entry. He saw Mikey standing there, the purple clad mutant huffing lightly as he then continued his task.

“I’m busy, Mikey.”

“You’re always busy, so any time to poke you is as good as any.”

The tall one rolled his eyes, although he did smile a little. He quickly gestured for his brother to come in.

“What’s up?” he asked as the other was taking a seat.

“Meh, I dunno man, just wanted to take some news from you,” shrugged Michelangelo. “You’ve been staying late a lot these days... How was your weekend?”

Donnie stopped writing once more, leaning back into his chair with a dreamy smile.

“It was hella nice.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Spent some time with a beautiful lady.”

“There yooouu gooo!” lightly laughed the youngest. “T’was about time you’d get some fun. Who is she?”

“Slow down, I’ll present her to you soon enough. ... We’re just taking some time to ourselves first, you know...”

Mikey was disappointed by the lack of details, but he did respect his brother’s choice: “Fair enough.” A thought came back to him, suddenly adding: “Oh, speaking of meeting ladies, before I got in here I bumped into one. I dunno what’s going on in the office, but she did look kinda distressed. ... She’s got nice green hair though! We don’t see lots of people with different hairstyles around here.”

Donnie slightly jumped in his chair as he heard the mention of ‘distress’ and then ‘green hair’. It had to be Vee.

“Where is she?” he instantly asked.

Mikey was surprised by his brother’s reaction, vaguely gesturing a direction.

“I, uh, I have no idea. Somewhere around those parts we don’t really have a use for.”

She must’ve went to the drawing room... Donatello did not waste any second, already on his feet and heading out.

“Sorry gotta go,” he quickly excused himself. “Talk to you later.”

Mikey didn’t even have time to place a word, still seated as he watched the other dart straight to a precise direction. “Oooookay...”

***

It didn’t take long for Donnie to reach the room in question, already hearing some quiet sobs when he was close to the entrance. As soon as he stepped in, he found Vee at one corner, by a table, her glasses removed as she tried to forbid tears to ruin her makeup. The woman jumped as she saw the terrapin’s form appear in, trying her best to gain a better posture and make herself more presentable as she put back on her glasses.

“Shit! D-Donnie, I-”

The turtle was already on the move, soon next to her and certainly preoccupied.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” tried to brush away Vee. “I’m not- ... fuck, I don’t want you to see me cry.”

“Don’t worry. Tell me what happened,” he asked again, his touch gentle as his thumb dried some faint trails on the woman’s cheek.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated. “I just heard some stuff I didn’t want to, that’s all. I’ll stop my bullshit soon enough and get back to work.”

Donnie tsked, not wasting any second to get a hold of her hips, barely giving any effort as he slightly lifted her up to sit on the table. At least now he wouldn’t need to lean down too much, his hands resting at her sides, on the table, now their eyes at the same level.

“Talk to me.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze long enough, a sigh escaping her first. ... It would be preferable to touch the subject anyway, before any rumors would start flowing around.

“I had some employees on my team this morning saying some ... stuff about us.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that makes it look as if I’m hanging out with you only so I can get a promotion or something like that to advance my career,” she added, her tone slightly harsh. She paused, trying to calm herself down quickly: “... Look, before you say anything, I want you to know that it’s not true. I’m not some kind of business leech that’ll try to flirt her way up. I work hard and-and- I do an honest job, and-”

“Don’t worry, I believe you,” cut Donnie gently, trying to have her look at him again.

When their gazes met, she did feel some relief.

“I don’t give a damn what they say,” he continued. “They don’t have the full details anyway, so their judgement is invalid.”

“I hope they don’t get all the details, I’d prefer to keep most of them to myself,” added Vee with some amusement.

“Me too,” he smiled.

He tried, and succeeded, to lift her morale by giving a sweet kiss on her lips. Vee couldn’t help bringing him into an embrace afterward, her arms resting around his neck. She wanted to stay like this forever... His strong arms around her were so reassuring.

“Don’t mind them,” softly said Donnie as he was nuzzling her hair. “There’s always gonna be some assholes everywhere we go... The best thing we can do is stand up to them and stay true to ourselves, okay?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to stand up to them today,” mumbled the woman against his scales.

“Alright, I’ll do it then.”

Vee instantly frowned, backing up a bit to give him a stern look.

“Don’t you dare! I don’t want anymore troubles.”

The terrapin chuckled: “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say names. ... I’m just gonna teach them all a little lesson. ... There’s no place for rivalry and petty discourses regarding matters they have no involvement with.”

“If things turn to hell, I blame you.”

“Deal!” he winked.

***

Time was passing by and Vee was somehow getting more and more anxious about what Donnie would do in regards to her team... She most certainly hoped he wouldn’t rub in the issue and ask the others to mind their own business. But at the same time she knew he could demonstrate tactfulness and would probably approach the matter at hand appropriately.

She first heard the squeak of small wheels, her attention shifting and soon noticing the terrapin walk in with a portable whiteboard. She groaned internally, tempted to melt on her chair and disappear under her desk...

Donnie attracted people’s attention by clearing his throat first, then adding: “Hi there! If you guys won’t mind, let’s have a talk.”

He removed the cap from an erasable pen he was holding, writing in big letters “TEAMWORK”. Vaguely gesturing the word, he started:

“What defines teamwork?”

Silence at first. At some point a woman shyly rose her hand, Donnie inviting her to speak:

“Please, don't be shy, no need to raise your hand. What do you have in mind?”

“Teamwork could be defined by good communication?”

“That's a good start, what else?” smiled the terrapin as he wrote “COMMUNICATION” on the whiteboard.

“Sharing the workload equally?” started another person.

“Efficiency!”

“Having a common goal.”

“Trust!”

Donnie lighted up at that word, circling it a couple of times for emphasis.

“Yes, trust!” he said. “Seeking a common end, resolving conflicts and frictions, having an open conversation about issues you might be experiencing in the workplace. All that trust you can put in your coworkers mirrors the trust you have in regards to their skills and abilities. A mutual trust is defined by a confidence between team members that each puts the best interest of the team ahead of individual priorities.”

“I guess it depends on the person and their position,” added in a guy.

Vee recognized him as the man who had first sparked the comments this morning. She tried to avoid his gaze, Donnie noticing the sudden tension.

“I suspect you have something on your mind,” started the terrapin calmly to the man. “What’s your name?”

“Ben.”

“What do you mean by ‘it depends on the person and their position’, Ben?”

The guy was obviously feeling some discomfort by being the center of interest.

“Well... when you see someone like, let’s say a manager, taking advantage of their position and time to advance themselves in the work place, it’s hard to put trust on them.”

Donnie clapsed his pen shut.

“Are those allegations founded? Have you spoken to that person and tried to see if that was actually the case? Miscommunication and misunderstanding can lead to a lack of trust, indeed.”

“When you see them hanging with higher ups, that kinda confirms some questioning,” continued Ben. “When she stays late at night and fraternizes with a boss, that does raise some concerns about the practices of this workplace.”

“There we go,” smiled Donnie, accentuating his words with a sharp point of his pen. “Now we’ve come to the source of your concern; first you mentionned a manager and now a ‘she’. Knowing there’s only one project manager for the creative team, I can suspect you have some concerns in regards to Véronique.”

“You’re just gonna defend her, why should we listen to you?” said the other.

“Because I’m not here to defend anyone,” shrugged the mutant. “I’m here to make you understand that you’re a team, and all its members shouldn’t feel afraid to speak to one another, instead of raising suspicions.” He gestured Vee, the woman only wanting to disappear. “Ever since Véronique started working here she has been spending countless hours in office to learn the ropes of this place and give the best of herself only so you can give the best of you all in return. I value her judgement and experience, and she has agreed, on her free will, to participate on a project I was personally struggling with. In return I have been helping her with her work, because that is how trust is built: by sharing the work-” he started to point the words on the board. “-being efficient, communicating, and having a common goal. ... And that’s something I want in this office, for its people to be open and help eachother - not because they feel they need to, but because they want to.”

That gave everyone a pause, somehow giving a feeling of accomplishment to the turtle.

“May that spark a friendship or not - when it does not involve this work environment and it’s out of office, it’s nothing to worry about afterward. ... Let that be food for thought.”

He looked a bit toward Vee’s position, giving her a quick wink. The woman did feel some relief by his speech, knowing he might have struck some chords here and there. She wasn’t fully convinced that everyone would be on that same line of thought, especially that Ben, but there was no denying that it would ease some tension somehow.

***

Vee had waited until work got back to a somewhat normal pace before she wrote that to the terrapin.

Her smile was tender, her fingers easily typing away.

Thinking about it also, today was one hell of a long and stressful Monday...

Probably one of the only good things today...

There it was again, that damn charm of his! She could feel the rush in her veins, remembering those moments with him. Frankly, she wanted more as well...

***

The following morning was as normal as it could get on a weekday, Donnie taking the opportunity to clean around his office. He was going through a filing cabinet, starting from the top drawer. Some papers did slip from his hold, the terrapin next crouching to get them off the floor. But at the same moment the entry door was harshly opened, a voice sternly calling his name. Donnie’s reaction was to jump straight back up, but that resulted in him hitting the top of his head on the previously opened drawer, getting a yelp out of him. He quickly diverted his gaze to the newcomer, rubbing his scales.

“Leo!” scolded the purple clad mutant as he saw his older brother. “The fuck?! Don’t you know how to knock or something?”

“We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“No time to explain, we’ve found them. We need to move right now before we lose their track again.”

Donnie instantly got serious as well, his posture straightening up.

“... Do we still have our backup gear in this building?” he asked.

“Yes,” confirmed the blue banded turtle. “Mikey and Raph are already aware as well. Get your stuff and we leave in fifteen minutes top.”

A simple nod in answer was good for Leonardo to get on the move again, leaving Donnie. There was no time to lose, the tall mutant rapidly tidying up his space before grabbing any personal items and exiting his office. His mind was running, thinking about what was to come. On his way he did notice Vee at her desk, somehow pausing only to bask into that view. At first she was focused on whatever she was working, but she did feel a gaze on her, her eyes lifting to meet Donnie. She first offered him a sweet smile, to which he briefly returned, then she saw him get back on the move - an expression of concern coloring his traits. That did confuse the woman, her eyes following his path and noticing that he was about to leave the building. She tried to shrug the feeling away, only telling herself that she’d poke him later about that...

((Part 10))

#it's-a-moi #business au #usual sorry for mistakes #that moment when I pump out drama a lil' faster than smut LOL #also note to self: DO NOT TRY TO EDIT/FIX ERRORS ON YOUR DAMN PHONE #stick to PC 😤#next chapter should come soon-ish as well - I'm pumped for this

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poptod · 4 years ago

Text

The Breeding Kings, pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The blacksmith.

Notes: I Love this story but i know yall arent that interested in it which is kinda yikes for me but theres no way im not finishing this fic whether its now or two years from now WC: 7.8k (again im so sorry)

By the time you and Ahkmen actually made it out of the pyramid, most of the stars had vanished, and the dawning light of the sun sparked a panic in the Prince's heart. He hurried you back to the shore, picking you up and setting you in the boat before pushing the boat far into the water. Constant glances over your head let him keep an eye on the shore, on the rotating guards at the gates, and where was best to tie the canoe back up.

In the end, he found a spot as far away from the gates as possible, securing the boat before helping you out of the rickety contraption.

"Have you school?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered beneath his breath, adjusting his belt.

With that he took your hand, jogging down the wooden docks until you came to the entrance. He ran through that as well, terrified of anyone recognizing him, and didn't leave enough time for you to think on it long. Ever respectful, he saw you home before sprinting back to the palace by himself, wind burning his eyes all the way up.

For the next couple days he took extra care in his physical health. Learning to calculate the time of day and its' relation to the curvature of the earth, while in the blazing heat of the sun, had not fared well on his sleep-deprived mind. When he returned home that evening, he slept over 12 hours in a dead faceplant on his bed. Upon waking he found Piye looming above him with a knowing expression.

"How much time have you been spending with that Yogi?" They asked in a clearer, less clogged voice than Ahkmen had been able to manage through the amount of beer he'd had recently, paired with how little sleep he had.

"Didn't come home one evening," he grumbled, raising his hand to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. "Got a lot of sleep last night, though."

"I can see that. Get up. We've got some time yet before the weekend," Piye said with a clap that roused the young Prince.

"Good morning, my Prince," said Naguib, who slipped in through the door. "The Pharaoh's dinner with the emissaries from Ebla is tonight. He wants you there."

"I have other places to be," Ahkmen whined, his shoulders drooping as he looked up.

"So does he," Piye said flatly.

School passed by without him ever seeing you, a fact that disappointed him more than it saddened him. His mood got him into a small verbal bout with one of his teachers, and though Piye tried to hold him back, the school day ended with him in one of the study rooms watching Yafeu argue with his father.

Ahkmen huffed, resting the weight of his head on his open palm balanced on the table in front of him. Yafeu couldn't tell him that he wasn't allowed in the school anymore, but the Priest would do his best to make sure Ahk got the second best punishment.

"I expect more from you, Ahkmen," his father said quietly as they walked side by side back to the palace. "None of your brothers have the skills or the wherewithal to lead a country. That responsibility may fall to you."

"Kamun is the oldest, isn't he?" Ahkmen grumbled. "He's the one who's going to be Pharaoh."

"Nothing is set in certainty, my son. Now then, in a few hours the Eblans will arrive, and a dinner will follow."

"Does that mean I have some free time, then?" Ahk asked with a sudden, bright change in tone.

"I want you to get ready," Merenkahre said, frowning. "Not play around with your friends."

"I'll only be there an hour at most," he said, playing off his own innocence.

The Pharaoh paused in the street to look down at Ahkmen, before letting out a long sigh.

"Very well. One hour."

Ahkmen didn't wait to return to his room––he turned and immediately set back off down the road, dashing and twisting through the crowds that formed the closer he got to the temple of Osiris. He barely looked to see where his hands and feet were as he climbed over the familiar crates, landing back in your alley and ducking back into your home.

To his surprise, Piye was already sitting in your waiting room, their feet set on a high shelf with their butt in a pile of blankets.

"Oh, hello Ah–"

You entered the room with massive goggles on.

"-hhh whhhat's up?" Piye corrected with wide eyes.

"... not much," Ahkmen said slowly. "I have a dinner with my parents in an hour, so I can't stay for long."

"I do need one help," you said as you pulled your goggles off, examining the material in your glove-clad hands. "I need a.. a..."

You snapped your fingers, attempting to recall the name of something. Ahk and Piye waited patiently.

"A kaentam," you muttered before a curse. "It is the rocks that kiss."

Piye stared at you dumbfounded, their mouth half open.

"You mean a magnet?"

"I think, yes," you said, though you didn't look sure. "Panya and her rock are still not... I do not know the type of her rock. I need your 'magnet' for to find the – the name."

"Well it's not exactly easy to find magnets," Ahkmen said slowly, picking at his chin as he thought.

"No, yeah," Piye agreed in the same contemplating tone. "I know they're used in medicine, but it's a... an unconventional treatment. Kind of expensive."

Ahk stared at the ground, continuing to play with the skin of his jaw.

"I think I know where we might find some," Ahk said after a moment.

"What is it?" You asked, stepping nearer.

"Osiris' temple. Priests have areas for medicine, and we already know the layout of the place."

"It's late, though. We're not allowed to enter after sunset," Piye pointed out.

"That's why it's good we know the layout!" Ahk said as he stood. "Now let's go."

"Don't you have a formal dinner in an hour?" Piye asked, watching Ahkmen leave out the door with a quirked brow.

"Let's gooo!" Ahkmen sang from outside.

Anything to distract from the coming responsibilities––anything to earn your favor, to win you over in some fashion he was convinced he hadn't already won you over in. You followed him out with a smile, murmuring a small greeting and thanks before Piye also appeared from behind you.

"And onwards we go, to Osiris, to Osiris," Ahk sung as he scaled the crates, followed by you and Piye in order.

"We have obtained," Piye continued the song with a grunt, "forever and ever, what your Grace will gift us."

"You talk like your heads have nothing in their side," you said, to Ahkmen's great amusement.

As Ahkmen originally suspected, most of the temple's inhabitants were too preoccupied with the evening adulations to notice three children, however strange looking, entering the complex. Ahk entered first, donned in his usual golden fabrics, followed by Piye, who by themselves always looked out of place no matter where they were or what they wore, and then you, a child at Piye's side, dressed in an unfamiliar but royal fashion.

Murmurings and voices could be heard from the tall roof of Osiris' temple, where many of the hour priests gathered to scan the heavens. Already the brightest stars shone through the light of sunset, a fact Ahkmen was quite glad about, since it would keep attention off him.

"Yafeu's room here has many, many supplies," Ahkmen whispered as the three of you crept down the open hallway.

"How do you know that?" Piye asked.

"I was sent there so he could yell at me and he's got bookcases and chests worth of things in there. What a monetary bastard," Ahk said with a tut, chuckling from his own humor.

When he reached the door to Yafeu's office, he slowly turned the lock, letting the wood door swing open with a creak. He motioned Piye in, then you, before following in himself, locking the door behind him.

Although Ahkmen might've been privy to the private belongings of the high priest, you and Piye shared no such knowledge. Piye, who had to bow down slightly due to the height of the ceiling, slowly scanned the room, from the pots to the jars and tapestries hanging from the walls. A reed mat had been set on the floor, keeping away the dirt and sand anyone might drag in.

"Where does he keep his medical supplies?" Piye asked quietly, taking a ginger step forward as they scanned the shelves with their eyes. When they spotted nothing useful, they began to rifle through them with their hands.

"No clue. Let's start, shall we?"

The three of you set to searching the room, categorically searching the different shelves––Piye for the tallest two, Ahk for the middle, and you for the lowest. You tried your best to keep quiet, wary of those who passed by outside the door.

"Why do you need a magnet again?" Ahkmen asked after several minutes of silent searching.

"Panya's rock seems iron in a... clean.. way? It is.. not how you see it in earth, and I don't know it. But your magnet will," you made a motion with your hands of them colliding together, "if I am right."

"You must know quite a lot about metals," Piye said, not bothering to tear away from the work at hand. You and Ahkmen, however, had stopped to look at each other when he spoke.

"My family is... kaghruppakal, moving.. metal, to make into things," you said as you reluctantly returned to the baskets on the bottom shelves.

"Blacksmiths," Piye said.

"Thank you," you said. "My father father's had it learned by the Kings in my home. They give us a good home for years, but they give no... money. So when new King comes, we had no home after."

"What do you mean, new King?" Ahk asked with a confused furrow in his brow.

"It is long and I do not know the how to say in Egyptian, but a man killed the King and stole his name," you said quietly.

"Is that why you left your home?" Ahkmen asked. "There was a revolution?"

"More of a usurping," Piye muttered.

"A little, yes," you said with a nod, before falling quiet.

Ahkmen waited a moment to see if you would say anything else, and a moment to wonder if he would say anything else, but ultimately returned to scavenging through Yafeu's belongings.

Statuette.

More gold bracelets.

Ancient scripture.

"You have to leave for that dinner pretty soon," Piye said in a dull voice.

"I don't need to leave for anything or anyone."

"Ureka!" you suddenly cried, a toothy smile coming to you as you forgot yourself.

Ahkmen and Piye both shushed you, to which you quickly apologized in a much quieter voice.

"I saw them," you said, extending in your hand a pair of magnets stuck to one another.

"Oh thank Gods," Piye said in a rush of breath, their hands immediately falling from the tall shelves. "Let's get back and see if it reacts to your stone."

"No, no, I bring it here," you mumbled distractedly as you dug into your large pockets, pulling out the shiny metal.

He watched in bated breath as you raised the magnets to Panya's stone. The whole of the process meant little to him, but it was part of your job, and he enjoyed partaking in little bits of your life.

This handicapped understanding of your work left him rather confused at your excitement when the magnets stuck to Panya's rock. You gasped, marveling at the reaction. As you moved to your feet, you never looked away, holding it close to your chest.

"Irumpu," you said through your smile. "Iron."

"I'm quite glad you've figured this out, but for the time being, we need to get out of here without being spotted," Ahkmen said, putting his hands on your shoulders before gently moving you aside, and opening the door a crack.

Piye spoke in a mumble with you as he stuck his head outside, the cool air of night filling his lungs, distinct from the stuffy walls of Yafeu's office. There were few people in the courtyard, as most of the priests and workers were still preoccupied with their finishing tasks for the night.

He motioned the two of you over, leading you silently outside. You crept along the wall with quick feet, skipping out of the temple, and running back into your home in a smiling rush.

The rush of adrenaline in his blood soon dissipated, comforted by the familiar shades of red and gold always resting upon your crown. Still staring at the metal, you collapsed down in your cushion pile, moving to hold the ball above your head as you stared. Ahkmen chuckled at your behavior, taking a seat beside you as Piye fell in a similar manner as you did across the room.

"Happy?" Ahk asked teasingly.

"Very," you said. "I must to find who had made it. The old King shows my father father's how to make it, but I never ask. And," you snapped your fingers, "then it is gone. When they go."

"Your grandfather knew how to purify and mold iron?" Piye asked in a low but loud voice, sitting quickly up.

"Yes, and it is good for..." you made a stabbing motion, "things that make people dead."

"Weapons," said Ahkmen.

"Etuvaka. Not many know how it makes, and that is how – why we come here. Makes better money, more than a city. Our city, people know how to," you mimicked squishing and molding things in your empty hands, "do with iron, so it is all every shop. Here, it was my family, only my family."

"That must've been quite the business at the time," Piye said in a softer voice, still low as they contemplated your words.

"We make good money," you said with a nod. "But I know this not. I want... to see.. find the maker. Hear his words."

"You'll probably want to see Panya, then," Ahk said. "It was her who found it, right?"

"I think yes."

"Wonderful. You'll go find her, and I will take him home," Piye said as they stood, gesturing to Ahk with their chin. "Dinner, remember?"

"Has anyone told you how irritating you are?" Ahkmen said, but nonetheless obeyed and stood.

"Your father reminds me every day," Piye responded flatly as the two returned to the palace.

Ahkmen drummed his fingers against the table below him, leaning the weight of his head on his raised knee. His mother had forced him into his royal clothes––the actual royal clothes, not just the expensive ones––and the crown his parents had made him gave him headaches with its' weight. Pure gold was heavy.

Ebla was a trading nation from the north who supplied a small but important type of material rarely found in the desert; wood. That was what Merenkahre and the Eblaite queen spent two hours talking about. Wood. They brought other goods such as rarely-found textiles and handcrafted artifacts as well, but they focused on the wood. It made sense, since that was what Egypt required the most, but it still bored him terribly.

Piye was much luckier by his reckoning. They didn't have to attend duties such as these. All the things they had to do were fun, things like gathering ingredients from the markets or the side of the Nile, going off on quests to defeat mythical beasts.

The young prince huffed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from tapping his fingers too loudly. Walls of grandeur surrounded him, a good enough difference from your home that he was nearly shocked when he entered his own home, staring up at the towering ceiling. His style was slowly changing, as it usually did, to accommodate new aspects of his life; this had happened before on many occasions, as he suspected it did with many other teenagers his age.

A dream to look at. He would reckon your smile would match against any angelic beauty––anything holy was a common miracle in comparison to the subtle, entrancing magic of your laughter, his hand holding yours as he dragged you, pretending not to notice the racing of his heartbeat. A dream.

He wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and drown you in kisses. In order to avoid his own disappointment at his fantasy not currently being reality, he bit deeper into the inside of his cheek, pressing down harder on his open palm.

Hours later, he stared up at the canopy of his bed, the sheets tossed around his body till most of them hung half of the bed. His breathing was the only noise in the still room.

Until his breathing irritated him so fiercely he sat straight up in a huff, a frown on his forced expression.

"Fucking... thoughts," he muttered to himself, halfheartedly punching one of his pillows.

He could not manage to tear his mind from you. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of you, and adrenaline built in him as he unwillingly imagined your face. Would you mind if he came to see you? It must've been past midnight. You worked during the day. He shouldn't bother you.

Ten minutes later he was fully dressed and sneaking out of the palace, a shroud of cloth concealing his identity as he moved along the shadows. He reckoned Piye, who also slept inside the palace, did not want to see you at this hour, and he left them to sleep.

Ahkmen wasn't sure what he was looking for in returning to you, but as per usual, fantasies spared no expense in the luxurious self-indulgence department, scenes playing behind his eyes of the two of you 'naturally' finding yourselves in intimate situations. Most of it consisted of him finally getting some sleep, this time with you in his arms or wrapped around his waist.

Despite his embarrassment concerning previously mentioned fantasies, they did inspire him to move faster, and before he knew it he found himself standing in front of your tent, hesitating for the first time.

Again his doubts plagued him. He comforted himself with the fact that he had come all this way, and it seemed a rather foolish idea to give it up now.

With that he entered, his eyes immediately falling to the one candle lit in the shadowed room. The usual rushlights set about the entrance room––where he and his friends usually sat about and did nothing––had disappeared, leaving much of the folds of cloths in shadows that casted stark against the single flame.

"Yogi?" Ahk said in a much quieter voice than required.

The sound of rustling blankets had his heart sinking in his chest. He had hoped, at least, that he wouldn't bother you from your sleep––most of him believed you would be up all night working.

"Aganu?" You murmured softly, high and quiet with the sleep pulling at your lips.

"Uh, yes," he said, trying to peek behind the curtain separating your bedroom front your shop. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I thought you'd be up, I – I can leave."

"No, no," you mumbled. "Is good. Come here."

He gulped, gingerly stepping forward and pulling away the cloth door. Behind it, you lay in a pocket of space built into your fabric wall, drowning you in luxurious blankets of red and gold. All that remained visible was your eyes, an adoring sight in his mind.

"Why've you got that light in the other room?" Ahk asked quietly, kneeling down in front of you.

"More not strong. It is very red," you said, poking your finger out to gesture to the room as a whole. "Good for night sleeping. Why are you coming here?"

"You mean your house or your bed?" Ahk said, stepping away as he became aware of his closeness to you.

"My house."

"Couldn't sleep," he said with a shrug. "Thought you might be able to help."

"Why?" You asked, before backtracking. "Wait, that is not the word I mean. Um... how do you want help?"

"I don't know. Maybe you have a potion, or just a better bed than I do," he said, chuckling.

"I have both."

"Hey, you haven't even felt my bed," he said in a teasing manner. "How do you already know your bed's better?"

"Because it is not hard."

Fair enough point––Egyptian beds were essentially a table built for the purpose of sleeping. Good for the hot weather, bad for the joints.

"I don't want to disturb you, though," he said quietly as you began to rise, sheets and thick blankets falling from your shoulders to reveal the naked expanse of your chest and stomach. He gulped, though fortunately not audible, as you stretched your hands up.

"It is no problem," you said, sighing deeply as your arms fell.

Rooting around in your bed, you found a large but thin blanket, wrapping it around your body before you left your comforts. You yawned as you stood, but faithfully wandered to your potion storage. Ahkmen had never seen any of your potions, as he didn't believe a hangover cure counted as one, and thus he looked eagerly over your shoulder when you knelt down. Glass and pottery clinked together as you searched.

"What kind of potions do you make?" Ahk asked, stepping back when you once more rose to your feet.

"To help bodies," you said, gesturing to your own body, "and soul." You tapped your heart.

He frowned. Obviously.

"Do you have like, a love potion?"

"Why you ask that?"

"Just curious," he said quickly.

"I have... khamam potion. You make a man drink it and they will.. have..." you trailed off, unable to explain fully. "Love to you? When they make the children."

"Sex?"

"Sure. They do the sex. Man or woman," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand.

"How do you make a potion like that?"

"You think I give it with no paying? I must make money, Aganu," you chuckled softly, bopping his nose with your finger, before sobering to speak. "This is a potion that will make you calm. Ready for sleep, yes."

"Oh, thank you," Ahkmen said, taking the small, clay bottle. "How much do I owe you?"

"Speak more about the sky."

He quirked a brow.

"That's your price?"

"I want to know more. I go to school to clean, not hear, but I want to," you said, taking his hands in your cloth-covered hands, and staring upwards. "I am alive to see and hear and I want to hear you."

You couldn't be aware of the effect of your words. Not with eyes that innocent. But, as usual, his heart raced painfully in his chest, overflown with an affection he had no choice but to hold back.

"... very well," he murmured, and led you back to your bed. You crawled in, surrounding yourself in blankets once more as Ahk sat on the floor, carefully watching your sleepy, fluttering eyes.

"The sky––well, more specifically the night sky, is a woman. Her name is Nuit. At sunset, her head in the west consumes Ra, and in the morning, she births him again. Her eyes are the sun and moon. Her lover, Geb, is the earth, but they are forever forced apart by Ra, who placed their father to separate them," Ahk said, reciting information he had long known. "His name is Shu. He is the air that lets us breathe."

"Why did Ra want them apart?" You asked quietly, muffled behind your blankets.

"Nuit became pregnant by Geb. Ra found it an abomination, cursed her to never give birth on any day of the year. But Thoth helped her––won a few games of Senet against Khonsu, god of time, and earned her five days in which she gave birth to five children."

"Who?"

"Osiris on the first day. That's his temple you work at. Then I believe it was.. Horus.. Seth, Isis, and her sister, Nephthys." He paused to yawn. "Those are the epagomenal days, at the end of the year. Pretty big celebration."

"I like to see this," you mumbled.

"I'll take you this next year," he said. "There's plenty of food and beer for everyone."

Your breathing was beginning to slow, and when Ahk noticed that, he fell into silence. Instead he stared at your closed eyes, your cheek squished into your pillow. Too much to look at. The better half of him yearned to reach out and touch you, but the remaining bits of his conscious reminded him that that was, beyond anything, an incredibly strange thing to do.

He was even more grateful for his decision to remain still when your eyes opened on an inhale, blinking slowly as you met his gaze.

"Tired?" You asked. "Potion does not takes long."

He chuckled, "yeah. I'm pretty tired now."

"What time does it take to walk to your house?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe thirty minutes."

"You are.. you will fall by then," you murmured.

"Asleep?"

"Yes. It is a strong potion."

You paused, scanning his body and its' position near you.

"Remain here," you said, soft as the silk you drowned yourself in. "For the night."

The rope around his heart tightened at your request. His imagination, somehow, had come to fruition.

"Where will I sleep?" He asked, fighting back another yawn.

"All places. Do what you want," you sighed. "Or you fall sleep in the street."

"Very funny. Scoot over."

You glared up at him, but eventually gave in, scooting closer to the wall to make room for him. He pulled his jewelry off him before sidling in, hoping to avoid hurting you accidentally.

When he turned to face you, he found his forehead crowning you, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

"Thanks," he murmured. "You didn't have to."

"I know," you whispered in a breath, closing your eyes.

Only a few hours later he was awakened by something prodding at his face. His eyes fluttered open, blearily finding Piye above him, poking his cheek with a fireplace fork. Ahkmen groaned, turning over on his side.

"Don't you ignore me, you royal pain," Piye said, prodding him harder yet. "Do you know how many lies I had to tell to your father?"

"Piye, it's way too early in the morning for this," he said groggily, throwing his arm over his eyes.

"It's midday!"

"I got here late," Ahkmen said as he slowly fell out of the bed, sliding onto the floor.

Piye grasped the top of Ahk's head by his hair, lifting his face and kneeling to meet him.

"I swear to the Gods if you had sex with a ci–"

"I did not," Ahk hissed, wriggling till Piye's grip loosened.

Reluctantly, Ahkmen rose to his feet, brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes and pulling your blankets off the floor, placing them back on the bed. The lumps in the cloth suggested your presence, but as he pulled them away he found the rest of the bed empty. He stepped back in surprise.

Piye looked over his shoulder, frowning as they, too, saw your absence.

"Isn't this Yogi's bed?"

"It was last night," Ahk said.

"I am here," you said from behind. Ahk whirled around, coming face to face with you struggling to pull on a large, ornate coat.

"Oh. What are you doing?" Ahk asked with a frown.

"I am placing my coat."

"We can see that," Piye said flatly. "It's hot outside. Why do you need it."

"Pockets," you said, opening your jacket to reveal a plethora of pockets sewn into the inner seams. "I do go to market now. I will see for the man that had made this."

You reached into one of your pockets, pulling out the block of pure iron some blacksmith had thrown away.

"Will I go to Panya? If she wants to?" You asked, pocketing the metal once more.

"Probably should," Ahk said with a yawn, stretching his hands high enough that they raised the cloth ceiling. Piye nodded in agreement.

"She likes to stay in control," Piye added.

"I can help you get there," Ahk offered expectantly.

"Oh! Thanks many," you said, grinning wide. "I do not know to find her."

"I better come too," said Piye, who crossed their arms. "He always seems to get into trouble without me there."

"You say that as though I don't get into trouble when you're with me, too," Ahk chuckled.

"I'm not in the mood today, Ahk," Piye whispered, gripping Ahk's upper arm tight enough to leave temporary marks.

"Then don't come along," Ahk whispered back. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Piye glared at him but said nothing, walking swiftly out the door and closing the flap behind them. It left Ahkmen once more alone with you, awkwardly shuffling his feet as you prepared yourself, carefuly to remember all your tools.

"Thank you, again," Ahkmen said after a moment of silence. "For letting me sleep here."

"Yes, yes. Go now."

You pushed him out the door, following as you fixed the tassels of your pants. Thin ropes flipped every which way till you knotted them, tightening around your waist, before you set off towards the common streets. Ahkmen followed, though he couldn't see where Piye had gone.

Murmuring conversations surrounded him, circled by flocks of people heading towards Osiris' temple. Shoulders and feet pushed on him, shoving him about as he headed in the opposite direction, always searching for your scarlet red robes. They set you quite wide apart from the usual crowd, and thus the Prince used them as an identifier.

People cast looks in his direction as he continued to shove and push, a constant stream of shaky apologies tumbling from his mouth. He considered himself adept at moving through crowds, but he had clearly not gotten as much practice as you did, which combined with your smaller size, led you to stop far ahead to wait for him.

He panted as he reached you, pausing with a heavy chest.

"Feel you good?" You asked, quirking a brow.

"I don't do well when I haven't eaten in the morning," he said, his voice cracking as he bent over slightly, his hands on his knees.

"Funny Egyptian man," you laughed, reaching up to ruffle his already messy hair. "You are... too full of money."

"I wouldn't doubt that," he muttered, recalling the many luxuries his father had given him throughout his life.

"I buy your food, we will go," you said as you returned to walking, slow to allow him time to catch up.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, waving his hand dismissively as he rose to follow you. "I can pay for it. Don't waste your money."

"Right?"

"... yes," he said, after having given up on trying to decode what exactly you'd meant.

As the two of you entered the main streets of the city, the conversations of strangers grew louder, more densely packed between houses and stalls full of goods. Through the street you now walked down, there must've been at least five different spice carts. Careful mountains of cumin and ginger were placed in the corner of nearly every stop.

Near the end, he found a small stall of a woman selling beer. He reached for you, pausing your step as he dug into his own pocket, pulling out a silver ring.

"One cup, please," he asked, to which the lady politely acquiesced. He set the ring down on her counter. "Will this do?"

"... one more than that," she said, her gaze flickering from the ring to Ahk's eyes.

He pulled out another ring, and with that she handed him the cup, taking the rings simultaneously.

"Have a good day!" She said as the two of you left.

Ahkmen sipped at his drink with a satisfied sigh, relaxing into the sweet, familiar taste. Your drinks were good, but far too alcoholic to be worth any sustenance.

"I want a little," you said, moving on your toes so as to see inside his cup.

"Sure," he said, and handed it to you. You returned it after a couple swallows.

"We look for Panya, yes?" You asked.

"Oh, right. I'll take you to her house."

Panya didn't live far away from the center of town, so in a matter of minutes you were already knocking on her door. What you didn't expect, however, was for the High Priest of Osiris' temple to answer it.

He eyed you up and down, your odd way of dress, the dot on your forehead, before his gaze fell to Ahkmen. It was then his eyes narrowed, coldly recognizing the prince.

"What do you want," he said, leering down at you.

"Your daughter," said Ahk, who was leant against one of the pillars outside Panya's mansion of a house.

"You may not have her."

"I –"

Before Ahk could finish, something tugged on the inside of his arm, pulling him away from the doorstep. You didn't seem to notice, busy conversing with Yafeu. He turned round, stumbling with broken balance before he looked up, meeting Piye's eye.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, glancing back to you and the priest.

"I've been thinking," Piye murmured, leaning down to lessen the space between them, "I don't think we should go around the markets just talking about a purified iron. I think it might land you in trouble."

"Why?" He scoffed.

"I’ve been at all my father’s meetings with the Pharaoh and his generals and they’re talking about iron. How to get it, how to use it, how to control it, everything,” they said.

“Well why’s that a problem? They did the same thing with wood.”

"Not like this! Iron, it – it's incredibly strong. If we had armor made of that, shields made of it, weapons made of it, it'd give us an enormous amount of military power, and with your father in rule, I don't think that's a good idea," they said in a growing volume before they remembered Yafeu was there, and quieted down again.

"What's wrong with my father?!" Ahk gasped.

"Nothing!" Piye hissed, eyes darting back up to Yafeu to see if he had noticed. "He just has a habit of oppressing people!"

Ahkmen snorted. His hand shot up to cover his mouth, quiet giggles wracking his body.

"I'm sorry," he wheezed, "that shouldn't be funny. Sorry."

"It's fine," Piye said with a long sigh. "You know what I mean. If word gets to him that this little immigrant over here has a key to finding how to shape iron, he isn't going to take a visit and credit them with the discovery. He's going to deport them, cover it up, and claim he learned it from the Gods. You know everything’s a game to him."

Ahkmen's breath caught in his throat as Piye laid out the consequences in plain, simple terms he could understand. That would be the end of your friendship, but more importantly, it was also the end of your livelihood. You were still young––around his age––and you didn't know much else except living in Egypt. If he were to take your word, your home to the east was far, far away, and ruled by an unjust dictator. You would not make the journey there alone, let alone when you actually reached your city.

"What do you suppose we do?" Ahkmen said after a minute or two of deep thought.

"I think –"

"We can go here," you said, passing by them with Panya and, unsurprisingly, Unas bringing up the rear.

"Wait –"

He went to stop you, but Piye stopped him first.

"Best you don't tell them. We're not from the palace, remember?" Piye muttered, before promptly following you off the steps of Panya's house. Ahkmen, however disgruntled as he was, followed as well.

"I wish I was poor," he grumbled, walking alongside Piye, who kept a fair enough distance from you and your customers.

Piye struck him with a flat palm against the back of his head. The weight in his neck rolled forward, kinking it awkwardly, to which he let out a yelp of pain.

"Don't say that. Others in your country, in this city, starve. They would give anything to be you."

His frown drew tighter, irritant clogging his thoughts. Every inconvenience angering. He breathed deeply, willing the feeling away, and sped his pace to catch up to you. Panya might've been up there, but her presence would be a small price for yours.

The markets approached faster than he realized, and soon he was once more surrounded by strangers bartering and advertising. Thin tarps of orange and dusty yellow spread from one side of the thin street to the other, sheltering merchants from the hot sun, and allowing them to hang different products on the lines. He ducked under rings of cloth and over piles of incense, shakily following your wavy trail through the walkway.

Heat began to redden his cheeks, and it was then he realized that you'd made it to the blacksmith area of market, near to the kitchens. Fire stoking bread and metal filled the open air, made much clearer by the absence of the shading tarps.

"Uh, Yogi," he said, grabbing your shoulder to stop you before you could enter. "I think we should keep on the down-low, this purified iron, people might start talking."

You looked him up and down.

"Okay," you said, turning back round to enter the shop.

It took until evening before you made any progress. Most everyone you met was skeptical of you, which wasn't surprising considering the size and age of your group. But the last man you came to was still working, even as everyone around him ate dinner, readying to leave for home or staying for music.

He had long hair––longer than Piye's, trailing down to his mid-thigh. Unlike theirs, his was black, and much stringier in comparison. The knotted rope used to hold his hair back as he worked was crude at best, and one he had to constantly fix. Ahkmen didn't see it, but you noticed he was much skinnier than most of the other blacksmiths, who had grown muscles over the years of their work.

You approached him much like you approached everyone; a bright, commercial cheerfulness that came across as dangerously fake. To those who had spent good time in the markets, it was easy to see through. Those who hadn't, however, couldn't quite decode why you were unsettling, other than you being foreign.

"What did you say this was for again?" The man asked, his voice a quiet, low rasp. He had seated himself amongst your menagerie, matching the height of Piye, who was of course the tallest member.

"We are trying to find the owner of an amulet," Panya lied smoothly, pulling off one of her many necklaces and handing it to the man. "Or rather, the maker."

He took the necklace with skinny fingers, twisting it round in them as he surveyed the whole of it.

"Gold, ruby.. copper," he muttered, pointing to each of the different beads as though you could understand him mumbling. "Silver?"

Panya gestured for the amulet back, which he gave, and she strung it back around her neck.

"Iron. It's the purest we've ever seen and we're looking for the source," she said, pointing to the rest of the group.

"The durability is incredible. I would love to have access to that kind of things in my buildings and such," Unas added.

"I know," the blacksmith said, his hair still drooping long in front of his face. "I have been searching for a way to purify the ore, but I cannot get my fires hot enough. I keep getting... what might be iron, but it never looks right. Then again, I – I don't know what the correct product would look like."

Well then, Ahk thought, that explains why it was in the junkyard.

You leant over to Ahk, moving to your knees so your lips met his ear as you whispered.

"Can I show him what we found now?"

"Um.." his eyes darted over to Piye, who was listening intently to the man's woes, "sure."

Tapping on the blacksmith's shoulder, you brought his attention to you and the heavy malformed metal in your hand. His eyes widened, near imperceptive behind all his hair, but certainly filled with shock.

"Is that my...?"

"It is iron," you said with a grin. "I live in a city where lots of iron everywhere. Here, not so much, but that is iron."

"Unas found it in the junkyard in the southern part of Memphis," Panya said, pointing a thumb to her friend.

"Shit," the man breathed out, combing a hand through his hair. "I don't know which one that was."

"Which what?" Ahkmen asked.

"Which heat level," Unas answered for him. "It takes a specific amount to actually purify different ores. Otherwise you might burn it into a charcoal."

"And the all other rocks and," you motioned grinding your fist into the palm of your other hand, "the rocks you smash until they are sand."

"Powder," Ahk said.

"Yes. I see, when I was 5, my father has powder in his furnace, in the iron," you said with a variety of questionable hand motions. "Red, and... a bright black. Shiny."

Ahkmen listened intently for the next hour and a half as you, Unas, and the blacksmith conversed about smelting techniques. Apparently, all of you had, at one point, attempted to smelt iron out of the ore, a fact that was made appalling because Egypt didn't have any iron. Most of the iron within the country was either imported or from the meteor, which was confined to only serving the royal family.

Even Piye eventually tired of the conversation that never seemed to stray from smelting, though you did for a short time discuss techniques for copper. Piye had an incredible sense of patience, so when they tapped Ahk to tell him they were leaving, Ahk realized he usually would've left ten minutes into the conversation.

It clicked quite quickly that he wasn't really listening––he was watching you, and that had somehow occupied him for a full hour and a half. A creeping sense of embarrassment had him hunching his shoulders.

"Unas, we should go, we have that thing in the morning," Panya murmured into Unas' ear, though Ahkmen still caught it.

"Oh, right," he said in a deflated tone. He stood, brushing off his skirt before facing the blacksmith. "Thank you for your time. Is it alright if I come back sometime? Might be better to have more than one person working on this."

"How old are you?" The blacksmith asked in his usual mumble.

"16."

"... okay," he said after a moment. "You're old enough."

"Oh, good. Well thank you, anyway," Unas said, before motioning to Panya to leave. He bowed his head slightly as he left the circle of conversation, following his friend back into the markets.

As she left, Panya turned to walk backwards, holding her hands out to you. You quickly caught her drift, and threw the ball to her. She thanked you from a distance.

"We should leave soon as well," Ahk whispered to you.

A few minutes later, the two of you were once more walking side by side, wandering down the now-vacant streets. Ahkmen had no idea where you were going, but was along for the ride no matter where you ended up. As you hastened your step, you took Ahk's hand, forcing him to match your pace with a giddy laugh.

"The night is clear," you said, walking backwards to face him without halting your step. "You will show me the star shapes, yes?"

"The constellations," he said with a soft chuckle, his body filling with a warm, lighthearted haze. "Of course."

You led him back towards your home but ignored the alleyway entrance, instead reaching the doors of Osiris' temple. The tall walls marked themselves steep against your small stature, casting long shadows in the moonlight, that tonight shone like a shell of the sun. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died stillborn as you tugged him into you. His chest met yours as he stumbled clumsily.

"Be safe, funny man," you giggled, looking down at him as his head's weight rested awkwardly in the crook of your neck.

What little citylights remained in the dead of night faded away as you scaled the tower, your neck craned upwards to the heavens. No matter how tall the roof of the temple was, no matter how high you climbed, the stars never seemed to move any closer. Their distance must've been incomprehensible, but inconsequential when grasping Ahk's hand to help him onto the roof.

He panted softly as he stood on his feet once more, brushing off the dust that came from the temple walls. You left him to wander to the center of the stone plateau. His breathing slowed, attention centering on you as your eyes still stared up into empty space.

You turned, noticing the heat of his gaze.

"Speak to me," you said in a voice that moved like music. "You tell on Sopdet, yes? And.. Sah. Nuit and Geb."

"Lie down with me," he said.

You dutifully obeyed, sliding down next to him, your clothes and hair splayed out.

For a good hour he pointed up, tracing the outlines of constellations he had studied all his life. Since you didn't know their shapes on paper, he drew the images in the dirt and sand collected on the roof, showing you how random collections of dots made up women and beautiful creatures, the everlasting Gods in the sky.

"I want to be... something beautiful," he murmured, looking down at his own shoddy illustrations. "Like the stars."

"You had say that when you will die, you will go to the stars, right?" You asked softly.

"In death," he said with a small nod. "I will not be able to see this earth. I will be one amongst millions. It's strange, but... I wish I could stay here forever. A star close to home."

"You are scared of being nothing," you said. "But we are nothing. We are nothing to birds, or to other cities. We are already nothing and everything. It is what you choose to make of you––make more of your everything, or sleep in your nothing. There is happy things in both."

"No time wasted in happiness is truly time wasted?" He said, remembering a familiar anecdote from school.

"Yes," you said with a smile.

Silence filled the space for a few minutes, stilled by the slow breathing of Ahk's chest. He closed his eyes, exhaustion tugging at him, all of which he ignored.

"Aganu?" You said, nearly whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I like my hours with you," you murmured, wide, warm eyes staring bashfully at him.

"I do too."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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