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uravitsy · 10 months ago

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‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT TWO.

summary. gojo relives his memories with you, getting closer to acceptance. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT ONE : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

Gojo danced his fingertips across your bare skin. the pads of his thumbs pressing into your flush thighs before dipping in between your legs. He watched as you continued to sleep, your chest rising and falling peacefully. your skin was still covered with love bites and marks from the passionate night before. Hair spread widely against the silk pillowcase as goosebumps appeared on your skin from being touched by Gojo's cold hands.

With a smile, Gojo lowered himself down, spreading your legs to put one of your thighs over his shoulder so he had full access to your lady parts. Without hesitation he teasingly glides his warm tongue along your folds, making you squirm and try to close your legs in reflex but Gojo's grip forcibly kept them open.

He moaned into your pussy, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to the point where you were lifting your hips up from the bed slightly, trying to move away from the overwhelming pleasure but gojo kept you in place, forcing you to take all that he was giving you on this lazy sunday morning.

"Satoru," you moaned his name tiredly, your head falling back on the pillows as you relaxed.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Gojo lifts his head up to look at you, biting your inner thigh.

"i'm still so sore and sensitive from yesterday.." you let out a blissful sigh as Gojo teased your clit with a flick of his tongue, a shiver going down your spine, "mm."

"I'll take care of you," His words were sweet like honey and his touch was like silk. it made you melt into the mattress, ultimately giving your body to him with such trust you wouldn't give to anyone else, "That's my good girl."

With a loud moan, you let Gojo take you to the world of bliss. It was nice to have him to yourself for a change since he'd been so busy at his job. You found yourself getting lost into piles of work as well, pursing your dreams with such vigor that it made you not have time in your calendar for your boyfriend. But you weren't going to let that stop you, to let it consume you to the point where your relationship with Gojo would grow strained.

So you made the time, the effort, to see him more and now here you two were, rolling around in the sheets for the past five days to make up for lost time.

You couldn't ask for anything else on such a glorious sunday morning. It was perfect. He was perfect.

"Parmesan cheese?" You asked Gojo as your back was facing him, continuing to plate his pasta that was fresh off the stove, "Satoru?"

"Hm? Oh! Yes, thank you." Gojo tossed his mail across the table before leaning back in his chair. You gladly served him his food with a nice tall glass of water but not without raising an eyebrow in question.

"What was it?" Humming, you take a sip of your own water as you pick up the envelope before reading the top, "Jujustu high...? isn't that the school you went to? why are they sending mail after all these years?"

"For a job offer," Gojo did well to hide most of his life with you and he wasn't going to let the wall crumble now. it was too dangerous for you to know anything about what he and others were capable of, "I already said no but they are persistent. besides, what do i look like teaching a bunch of kids?"

You couldn't help but let out a sad chuckle. Gojo was indifferent when it came to children and made it made it very clear throughout the five years you two been dating. He said they were annoying brats that he didn't have time for and over time you hoped his perspective changed, especially now that you were— never mind that, what were you going to do? What were you going to tell him?

"It might be a good opportunity," You try to reason with him, "You said that you were sick of this job you had now anyway. maybe a change will do you good, you should consider it."

"You make a good point."

You push your own feelings aside as you give him a bright smile, "Now don't wait up for me. I have this job interview and then a few errands to run. I'll see you later tonight, I'm thinking chinese?" Gojo followed you down the hall with a knowing smirk. He watched as you put your shoes on and grab your keys that were hanging on the hook by the door, "Unless you want something else then text me, I can always make—"

You were interrupted with a kiss. Gojo and your lips moving together in sync until you both were breathless. after a few moments, Gojo pulled away with a teasingly smile, a bit of pasta sauce still on the corner of his mouth from eating like a starved child.

"You're too good for me," Your boyfriend says honestly, his bright colored eyes looking upon you like you were his whole world, "I love you (y/n)."

"And I ove you too," And you meant that with every fiber of your being. You move Gojo's white hair away from his eyes, your hand resting on his cheek for a second too long as if to savor this moment between you. If you could freeze time it would be right for this moment, "i'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course sweets," Gojo kisses the top of your head, confused by the pit of dread that he felt in his stomach. Why did he feel so bad all of a sudden? Why didn't he want to let you go? If only he knew that that was his inner voice warning him, telling him to stop the unthinkable. If only he would've known better then— maybe you'd still be by his side, "Get going so you can come back to me, I'll be so boooooored without you!"

"You could, I don't know, go to work?" You tease him, knowing that it was his day off. lucky him, "Not everyone has such a privilege like you, enjoy it! call geto or something."

"He's the last person I want to see!" Gojo lets out an annoyed huff, "Why can't you call off?"

"Goodbye Satoru," And with that you closed the door behind you. Your light and sweet aura going with you, leaving the place feeling cold and empty. Why didn't he stop you from leaving? Why did he just watch you leave? He blamed himself. He blamed himself for everything.

"And so," Mrs.Shoko smiled at you as she tapped on resume, "You've been accepted for the position," her words left you nearly gawking, "we can get your office set up as soon as possible. How does Monday sound?"

"M-Monday?" you were still reeling from the shock, "That's perfect! Thank you so much for this opportunity!" Shaking her hand vigorously, you couldn't help but bow in thanks.

"I take it you'll be ready to relocate to Tokyo? I know it's quite far but—"

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes!" This was your dream job after all; Gojo would understand. You both talked about the endless possibilities, and this was one of them. You couldn't turn it down, not when you were so close to achieving what you had worked all your life for.

"So? What did you say?" Mrs. Yamada could hardly take the suspense as she set down a plate of finger sweets in front of you. "You've been telling me about this job for months."

"Of course, I said yes!" You smiled as you thanked her for the snacks, not wasting a second before stuffing your face. "Now I have to talk to Gojo."

"Speaking of him, have you told him yet?" Mrs. Yamada turns her sign to closed before taking a seat across from you, nodding in approval as you pour the both of you tea politely. The porcelain teapot weighed a bit heavy in your hands. "It won't be long before you can't hide it anymore, you know."

"I know," you instinctively place your hand on your stomach with a soft smile, "I'll tell him everything today! I'll get ingredients to make his favorite meal and pick up some of those sweets he likes at the candy shop by our house. It's a day for celebration after all… I just hope he sees it that way as well."

"You should have more faith in him," Mrs. Yamada takes a sip of her tea, "if he loves you, it won't be an issue."

"You're right," you said before checking the time on your phone. It was past 6, and you were sure Gojo was waiting up for you to hear the good news. And you wanted nothing more than to skip home. "Ah, Mrs. Yamada, as always I enjoyed talking to you but—"

"Go on now, you don't have to keep this old lady company anymore," she teases.

"Whatever you say, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Of course, I can't seem to shake you off me."

"And you never will!" You laugh at the banter between you both before leaving the flower shop with a single flower in hand. You made your way to the nearest grocery store to pick up the ingredients for tonight's dinner, leaving with a few bags that took up almost all of your right arm.

While you were in the grocery store, the weather changed drastically. The once clear blue skies turned to a dark grey, the sudden flashes of lightning brightening the dark street as it began to pour down rain. You groaned, annoyed with the fact that you didn't have an umbrella on you. You were tempted to go back into the store to buy one, but your home was just right around the corner.

Your phone started ringing suddenly, making you rummage around in your purse to find it, the familiar name of: Gojo 🤍 popping up on your screen. "Hey, babe!"

"(Y/N)! It's raining super hard; I can come pick you up."

"I'm almost home. But guess what? I got the job!"

It was just a short two-minute walk from here, and the candy shop lights were still on, lighting up the whole street with its neon sign. You figured that you'd stop to get Gojo's sweets and rub the rest of the way home.

"Whaaaaaat?! I'm so proud of you! We have to celebrate."

"I'm one step ahead of you, Satoru! I also have some other news to share…"

A sudden flash had you squinting your eyes. The power box behind you sparking with electricity in the wake of being struck by lightning. You rushed to cross the street after looking both ways despite the rain fogging up your vision. Unbeknownst to the car that was coming toward you at full speed, the driver's vision obscured by the sudden flash of lightning that was too close for comfort.

All you saw in your final moments were bright headlights coming toward you. Then the world went black.

"(Y/N)? What was that? Are you okay?"

You couldn't move or see, but you could hear, and you could feel. You heard a person screaming for someone to call 911, you heard hurried footsteps around you as you laid against the cold gravel world, the energy to stay alive slowly leaving your body as you felt something tugging, pulling you toward an abyss of warmth and light.

"(Y/N)!"

Your groceries were scattered, and your favorite flower, that single flower, was still in your hands.

An officer leads Gojo down some stairs into a basement that was cold and damp. The air is thick with so much tension he thought he would suffocate. "I noticed it does more harm than good for the family member or… er, lover."

"I want to see her to make sure." To make sure of what? To make sure you were really dead? Yes, because quite frankly, he was in denial. It couldn't be you. Out of 7 billion people in the world, it wouldn't be you—it couldn't be you. He knew you'd pop back up and say this was all a joke.

Some sick, cruel joke.

The male officer leads Gojo through a freezing room with bodies on either side of him covered with a white sheet. The only parts of their bodies that were sticking out were their feet, with a large tag hooked around their big toe as if they were luggage.

Gojo's throat goes dry as the officer stops in front of a body, going around the metal table to slowly pull the white sheet back to reveal your lifeless body. "Can you identify her?"

"Yes," Gojo could only nod slowly, the words he wanted to say escaping from his lips like a forgotten memory. Out of reflex, Gojo smiles sadly as he looks down at you. He brings his hand up to stroke your hair, then your cold cheek, holding your once warm hand. "That's my (Y/N)."

"We're still investigating, but it's clear this was a hit and run," the officer continues his words with caution. "And I don't know if you knew, but by the autopsy report, she was five weeks pregnant."

Gojo feels like the wind got knocked out of him. "W-what?" he laughs then, this wasn't real. He was dreaming. When he woke up, you'd be right there next to him like you always would be. But no matter how many times he pinched himself, he couldn't wake up.

"I'll give you a few moments…" The officer leaves the room, his footsteps echoing throughout the large room.

Those few moments turned to hours. The hours turned to days. He couldn't leave your side, not when you were like this. Were you cold? You needed clothes. They had you in such an indecent way with other strangers. He was sure you'd be afraid and confused once you woke up; that's why he wanted to stay by your side.

When you wake up, he'd be right here assuring you that everything was alright.

When you wake up, he'd give you the longest kiss.

"Gojo-sensei?"

When you wake up, he'd hug you and never let go.

"Gojo-sensei?"

You weren't waking up, were you?

Megumi tugged on Gojo's pants leg, his small hand easily taking ahold of Gojo's as he took the flowers from Gojo, delicately placing the bouquet of your favorite flowers on top of your gravestone. Your parents started to walk away, your mother sniffling quietly as your father came to pat Gojo on the shoulder reassuringly. His silence spoke a thousand words as they left the graveyard.

Tsumiki, Megumi's sister, bends down to offer your spirit a plate of sweets. Humming a sad tone, she stands up to her full height, holding Gojo's hand in comfort as she cries softly. She sheds the tears that Gojo wouldn't, his face still holding no emotion as he mumbles a simple goodbye.

"Let's go," Gojo tells the children gently, sparing your headstone one last look before turning away. "How does ice cream sound? I'm craving something sweet."

The children give each other a concerned look, clueless as to why Gojo wasn't on his knees screaming his heart out at the unfairness of it all. But little did they know that he would, but only silently. Only when no one could hear or see him.

He did break. He did fall to his knees. He did cry.

He mourned for you, yearned for you, and begged whatever god that would listen to bring you back to him. But his cries would only fall on empty ears, leaving him to slowly wallow away. His heart forever shattered to where no one would be able to mend the pieces for him even if they tried—and he wouldn't even let them try since this heartbreak, this heartache, was a reminder of you.

He would rather have this pain that only the unlucky ones bear if it will forever serve as a memory of you.

#༊*·˚ uravisty #gojo x female reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #anime #gojo x f!reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #lovers #angst #bittersweet #jjk smut #smut #short story #jjk angst

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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✶ Bliss ✶

✶ Pairing: model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, smut

✶ Summary: Weeks of being caught between your two lovers, sitting idly by as your heart battles your head, must come to an end. You have to decide once and for all which door to leave open and which to close forever.

✶ Word Count: 2k-ish

✶ Warnings: a lil possessiveness, reader's getting over some insecurities, heartbreak, oral sex (f receiving), some strong language

✶ A/N: This is the last of a three-part series. You can find 🖤 part one here 🖤 It took me a bit to finish this because life was doing its thing but I'm happy with how it turned out so I hope you lovelies enjoy it!

You should’ve never come here. You should’ve stayed as far away from this man as possible. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. The reality is that you didn’t stay away. Hyunjin called and you came now you’re coming around his fingers, allowing yourself to be claimed once more by the lust filled demons of your past. And, oh, what a glorious one he is...

As he lulls you down from your high with gentle kisses along your neck, you await the intoxicating afterglow you’re accustomed to. Only there is no glow in the "after". It's dark and empty, Hyunjin’s words echoing through your mind on a loop.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

It was such a rush the first time you realized how badly Hyunjin wanted you. He’d confessed to you front row at a fashion show. To anyone watching there was nothing notable about the quick whisper in your ear or the brushing of his hand across your knee. They couldn't fathom the way such small gestures had turned your world upside down.

You felt so special. Special enough to let him see you in secret with promises that one day you’d go public. Make things official. Be a real couple. Finally have the love story you dreamt of.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

The undertone of toxic possessiveness sours the nostalgia sweetening this reunion, bringing you to a realization that has somehow eluded you up to this point. In his eyes, you’ll always be a thing. A precious thing, his absolute favorite thing, but always you belonging to him and never him to you. This is not your fairytale and he is not your prince.

“This can’t happen again” you sigh, pressing your hands to his chest to create distance between you. Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes at the foolishness of such a statement, “Will you say that next time too?” You could go back and forth with him, exchanging verbal jabs until he beats you into submission, but it’d be for nothing.

“Take care of yourself, Hyunjin.” You smooth out your dress and throw your jacket back on, pushing past him with an indifference no one’s ever shown him before. Give him your love. Give him your hate. He can find a way to work with either one. Your indifference, on the other hand, is alien to him. It’s a savagely forged blade to his gut, slicing him open and leaving him to bleed out in the halls of his own exhibit.

“So you love him more? Is that it?” he calls out, catching you before you disappear forever. You pause, searching for the most honest answer that you can offer. “I love me more,” you say, shocked by your own words, “at least I want to love me more, and I need someone who makes that easy for me.”

“And he does?”

“Yes, actually, very much.”

Thoughts of Minho wrap around you like a warm, fuzzy blanket making you crave his presence. Wherever he is, doing business in Seoul or on a shoot in LA, you want to be there. “Hyunjin, honey, people are pulling up!” his manager, a sharply dressed older woman in designer glasses, announces strutting through the doors. You peek outside to see how right she is. His adoring public is already arriving, ready to file in and shower him with enough affection to last a lifetime.

Not that any of it will ever be enough. Not when the only one who matters is about to walk out of his life. His manager looks you up and down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here. “I didn’t know we were opening early” she quips, cutting her eyes at you. “I’m leaving, actually.” “Oh, what a shame.” Hyunjin interrupts, nearly knocking into his manager to get to you, “See you around sometime?” “I'm sure you will.”

Waving goodbye to his manager before she sets you on fire with her mind, you throw yourself back out into the cold autumn night. As the door of the gallery shuts behind you, so does the door leading back to what you shared with Hyunjin. You know without question where your heart is. It’s not with him anymore and it never will be again.

“You want me to go hiking?” you ask, smiling politely at the waiter setting your plate down in front of you. “Thank you” Minho nods to the departing waiter before turning his attention back to you, “Yes, you. We can spend the whole weekend hiking and camping. It’ll be nice to get away, don’t you think?” You’ve never seen Minho this excited about anything. He may not show it on the outside but that little twinkle in his eye gives away how passionate he is about the trip and how much it'd mean to him if you came along.

Next week will be the first time in a while that you'll both be free of your hectic schedules and all he wants is to be with you. Of course, you want the same thing, even if you run the risk of being eaten alive by bugs in the process. “I think it’ll be wonderful” you agree, twirling food onto your fork, “Let’s do it. I’ve always wanted to wrestle a bear.” Minho nearly spits his drink out laughing, “Who said you had to wrestle a bear?” You grab a napkin, reaching across the table to wipe the wine from his chin.

“That’s what you do when you go camping right? Forage for food. Wrestle bears. Challenge mountain lions to a foot race. Survival show stuff.” Minho can’t find the words to explain how completely wrong that is, he’s too busy trying to keep it together in front of the other diners. Osteria Francescana is one of those restaurants that's impossible to get a reservation at unless you know someone. They won’t even put you in their book if you don’t meet the standards for their elite clientele.

It’s always made Minho uncomfortable to be in places like this. As gorgeous as it is, with its fancy menu and candlelit dining room, it’s not really his scene but tonight it has to be. He wants to ask you something. Something that has him nervous enough that he couldn’t touch his food if he wanted to. He thought that getting dressed up and taking you out on a romantic date might give him the courage to say it but he's quickly learned that it makes no difference. You scare the hell out of him all the same.

“Have you thought about us?” he asks, forcing himself to get it over with. You sense that something’s off. Not knowing what, you proceed with caution. “Thought about us as in...” Minho clears his throat, fidgeting with his rings. “Being together. Just me and you. I know that Hyunjin—” “Hyunjin isn’t anything to me,” you say, refusing to let him go any further. You knew that this would come up eventually. Minho never pressed you about your history with Hyunjin. He never asked if you still saw him or forced you to open up about your feelings but he was bound to get curious. It's only natural.

Maybe he’s been avoiding it, too afraid of what the truth might be, but there’s nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest. You lock eyes with him, taking his hand, “I love you, Minho. You’re the only one I want. I've known that for a while. I just didn’t wanna rush you.” Correction, talking about the camping trip isn’t the most excited you’ve ever seen him. This is. His ears are turning red and he can’t stop himself from smiling no matter how hard he tries.

“Rush me? No. I love you too. I always wanted—I do want—will you be my girlfriend?” “I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You rub your cheeks to chase away the tingly feeling coming over them. He asked you, he really asked you. Instead of stringing you along with only the hope of something serious, he went for it. It heals your wounded heart, wipes away some deep seated pain, to know that he loves you the way that you love him.

“We should do something to celebrate. What do you think?” “Hmm,” you muse, one of your high heels skimming the inside of his leg. Minho tilts his head to the side, glancing under the table and back up at you with a mischievous look on his face. “I wasn’t talking about that.” you scold, realizing too late what you’ve started, "Get your mind out of the gutter. No!"

Teetering on the edge of the black marble sink, you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making noise. Sneaking away from your table had been easier than you thought. No one seemed to notice you walking off to the bathroom or Minho slipping in behind you a few minutes later. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You shouldn’t be doing this and that’s precisely why it feels so damn good to do it.

Any worries you have about getting caught disappear when you feel the warmth of Minho’s mouth pressed against your core. He catches himself humming at the taste of you as he licks up one side and down the other. Repeating it until your clit’s stiff and twitching, begging for his attention. He flicks his tongue against your clit just enough to get a reaction out of you. You run your fingers through the soft strands of his chestnut hair, tugging at it to signal that you want more.

Kissing the plush of your inner thighs, he spreads you wider to admire the beauty of you being so drenched and needy when he's barely done anything to you at all. Slowly, he dips the tip of his tongue into you, swirling it in circles just beyond your entrance. “Please” you whine, melodic and low. Minho grins at how adorable you are. “So cute.” You grab onto the sides of the sink, fighting for control of your trembling body. “Shit, why do you taste so good? Hmm?” he pants, diving back in for more.

A moan escapes your lips, the pleasure too intense to contain. You shove your fingers into your mouth, a desperate attempt at blocking the next one but it only works for a short time. Before you know it you’re drooling around your fingers, moaning between rapid, shallow breaths. Knowing that he needs to work quickly to avoid suspicion, he devours you with the hunger he should've had for his dinner. But you're so much tastier than anything this restaurant could offer him.

The wilder he laps at you, the wetter you are, and the more of you he needs. Nothing has to be said for him to know when you're close to your peak. Your body gives you away every time. Minho takes your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, steadying you as the tension snaps, leaving you clenching around his tongue. A sensation of pure bliss radiates through your body as he holds his pace, stopping only when you're too overstimulated to take anymore.

Standing up, he brings you into his arms and rests his head on your shoulder. He holds you lovingly, not expecting a thing. To him, you’re the most precious woman, his absolute favorite, and at last, you belong to each other. It means everything to bask in this moment—in any moment—with you. You close your eyes, kissing him on the forehead, bathing in the ethereal glow of the “after”.

This is your fairytale and he is your prince.

#stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader #stray kids x chubby reader

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preseriesdean · 3 months ago

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for @spnficrecfest day ten 🧡

2x05 SIMON SAID

have a cigar by deadlybride 5.6k words, rated E, published 2020 What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

2x14 HOUSES OF THE HOLY

The real green thing will come by victoria_p 1k words, rated T, published 2007 He'd like to blame the whiskey, but he thinks it's more than that, this whatever-it-is between them that's been there for years.

2x20 WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE + 2x22 ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE

Worthless cartography by Goshen / applecrumbledore 15.6k words, rated E, published 2022 Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)

2x22 ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE

When I Fall Asleep it Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is 1.9k words, rated E, published 2009 Sam is alive. Dean is happy.

3x11 MYSTERY SPOT

North of Wednesday by Mollyamory 3.5k words, rated G, published 2008 Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Dean does. There should be another cheesy eighties song coming on any second, because it's like he wakes up again, without ever falling asleep.

This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym 10.8k words, rated E, published 2009 Sam really didn't do very well without his brother.

What Went Wrong Yesterday by SinnamonSpider 16.2k words, rated E, published 2017 With Broward County in their rearview and a new case in their laps, Sam struggles to come to terms with the six months he spent alone after Dean’s death - and the fact that it never happened at all. And on top of it all, he now has to deal with the feelings for his brother that have been dragged to the surface.

4x17 IT'S A TERRIBLE LIFE

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze 26.2k words, rated E, published 2009 In which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

5x01 SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red 9.3k words, rated E, published 2020, non-con “So you’re just gonna, what – torture us for an hour while your guys hightail it to Buffalo? That’s your master plan here?” “Oh I can do a lot in an hour or two, Sammy. Like having your surrogate daddy here carve Dean a new face. Like backsliding you off your pretty bandwagon. Like…Seeing how far big brother will go for his sweet baby Sam.”

5x04 THE END

Further than a Ship, Faster Than a Bomb by queenklu 622 words, rated M, published 2010 Set during 5x04, when there was a glorious moment of two Dean Winchesters at the same time. "You left him."

5x14 MY BLOODY VALENTINE

The Heart of Life by queenklu 626 words, rated T, published 2010 A Vonnegut Valentine.

5x18 POINT OF NO RETURN

the tabernacle reconstructed by redmyeyes 2.9k words, rated M, published 2022 They pulled on clothes, afterwards.

6x18 FRONTIERLAND

You Have One Saved Message by killabeez 3.1k words, rated T, published 2011 Sam gets a new smart phone.

6x22 THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

These Things I Know Are True by killabeez 4.6k words, rated E, published 2011 Cas is off the rails, Sam's barely keeping it together, and Dean's trying to figure out where they go from here.

8x21 THE GREAT ESCAPIST

Last Temptation by merle_p 3k words, rated M, published 2021 Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state.

10x12 ABOUT A BOY

capitulation by deadlybride 8.5k words, rated E, published 2018 When they don't manage to turn Dean back into his adult self, Sam spends a month researching how to fix it.

Betelgeuse by hellhoundsprey 2.8k words, rated E, published 2020 The hex bag never burned.

Telescope by doctor_idiot 7k words, rated E, published 2017 Sam stares at his brother in his baggie hoodie with the rolled-up up sleeves and he wants to cry.

11x17 RED MEAT

Chosen by killabeez 2.5k words, rated E, published 2016, mcd This might be their last night on earth, so Sam figures, what the hell.

#spnficrecfest #wincest #fanfic #whatever it is #q

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legendofmorons · 8 months ago

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How to fall in love twice part 7

Pairing: Malon x Time x reader

Rating: G

Summary: While you and Malon go on an unofficial coffee date, Time finally has some sense knocked into him thanks to Wild, Warriors, and Legend.

Warnings: N/A

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

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The third day in modern Hyrule begins with the delightful experience of introducing Malon to modern coffee shops. Which is certainly worth it.

However, first, you get a nice shower. With your hair routine, proper soap, any shaving you might choose, and the ability to have hot water. It's glorious, and you are thankful for running water.

Malon takes a shower as well, still confused about modern shower products, but delighted in the effects! She likes that there are so many options. She also adores the hot water since she doesn't have to heat it herself.

Malon has delighted in modern clothes, a sage colored cable knit sweater, and dark jeans are her chosen outfit today.

How the fuck is she so pretty all the time? It should be illegal.

You need to focus on the things going on. Not on how pretty Malon is.

You also need to introduce her to milkshakes. You think she'd like them. But that's for later.

For now, you focus on getting your wallet, keys, and any other items you need for a city outing. You glance at the deity mask sticking our of your bag.

You find both comfort and worry in the presence. The mask has the markings that Time bears. And yet it feels unlike him at all.

You shake your head to dispel the thoughts. There's no use dwelling on those things.

Your time is much better spent on other things. Like kicking ass or spoiling the gorgeous red head you're with.

You lead Malon into the local coffeeshop midmorning. The crowd is not dense, but there's quite a few people there anyway.

Mostly, it's college students who take residence in the establishment.

You both look over the menu, and once you've explained the new drink concepts to her, you both step up to order.

"Welcome to Cuthulu brews. What can I get started for you?" The barista at the counter asks with a smile. Their eyes look dead, though. Classic customer service jobs, sucking the life out of people.

"Can I get a mocha but like - not taste the coffee?" Malon asks.

"Uh- maybe?"

"Why don't you get a shot of espresso in you hot chocolate." You suggest lightly.

"I can do that?"

"Sure, you want hot chocolate with one shot?"

"Yes, please."

"What size?"

Malon looks to you, unsure but excited.

"Large, please." You decide, that'll be more chocolate to hide the coffee taste in.

And really, you think you both deserve nice things after the hell you've been through lately.

You don't know what you'd do without Malon. Ignoring your feelings for her she's still been such a help and pillar of support.

"Awesome, can do. And for you?" The barista turns their attention to you.

You order your drink, along with two breakfast pasteries. You want to make sure you and Malon are both eating well enough.

You pay and leave a tip.

While you and Malon wait for your order, she seems to be buzzing with excitement.

"You're more chipper today, good dreams or something?" You ask with a smile.

The smile she turns on you is dazzling, "Sort of. I'm just glad I'm with you mostly."

"Oh, that's sweet. I'm glad I'm with you too, Mal." You smile and then feel silly using the nickname you've only heard her husband use. "Sorry, uh, the nickname is probably weird."

Malon just shakes her head, "Not really! I like hearing you call me that."

"Oh. Okay." You smile, trying not to read into any of this.

But over the time spent with Malon- your crush has definitely become bigger. And you are a lot closer to in love than you should be.

After collecting your drinks and breakfast, Malon leads you to a window table to sit at. Her mood is the highest it's been in a while.

It's good to see her happy.

"You said you wanted to show me something called - a wifey?"

You nearly choke. "WiFi. Wifey is something different."

Malon laughs, but she looks like she said the wrong thing on purpose. But that's got to be wrong.

(It's not wrong. She's teasing you.)

"You're probably right." She says before taking a sip of her drink.

You just resign yourself to a few bites of breakfast pastry. You need a moment. Just to get your mind up and running again.

"So, if we're in your time, don't you have someone to check in with?" Malon asks as she looks you over.

She does that a lot. Why's she always looking you up and down? She's not checking you out. That's just silly.

(She is checking you out. And she thinks it's rude you keep trying to stop yourself from returning the attention.)

"Not really. I'll be gone again soon so it'd just upset them." You say simply.

Because really the longest you've stayed in any time is a week since you got pulled away from the chain. So why bother upsetting people?

"I guess. But I'd want to hear from you."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're sweet to me."

Malon makes a face, as if amused and exasperated. She does that a lot when you try to wave off her compliments.

"(Y/n), sweetie, you're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."

"Oh. Uh- thanks."

She just smiles, and sets a hand on your hand. "I mean it. You're going to make whoever you end up with very happy ome day."

She has a weird tone, and you almost think she wishes she was who you end up with. But that's ridiculous and probably not right.

"Thank you."

-------

Time is having a very bad time. Since he saw you and Malon, he's been torn up inside.

On one hand, you're both alive!

On the other hand, you're still who knows where facing threats he can't protect you from.

What a great time.

"You need to eat." Wild says as he pushes the shepard's pie into the old man's hands.

Time looks at him, blinking. Right. Food. He does need sustenance.

"Thank you." Time manages.

Wild just sighs, shaking his head. "You're disrespecting both of them by thinking they're gone."

"I don't - I don't think they're gone... I just think I'll never see them again."

Wild just levels a stern look at Time. He's not paid enough for this. He isn't paid at all, actually.

He will have to talk to Hylia about labor laws. She needs to hear from his union.

First, he needs a union, actually. He'll have to ask Legend for help there.

"What?" Time manages with a strangled edge.

"You're being entirely too pessimistic. Everyone thinks we'll see them again. Even Legend. So are you going to snap out of it?"

Time blinks again, confused and unsure if he should be offended. He's just being realistic!

Right?

"Don't give me that realistic spiel. Stop making things out worse than they are."

"I'm not!"

"We saw them three days ago. They were alive without any immediately fatal injuries, and they were both standing on their own. So unless they've started throwing the same pity party you are, they're fine."

"I'm not throwing a pity party."

"Call it what you want, but you're being too seal-ious."

"You did not just make that pun."

Wild just grins. There is nothing like puns to make people listen to you.

"Is he done making the worst assumptions?" Warriors asks as he makes his way over.

"I don't know. Time?" Wild turns expectantly to the old man.

Time just sighs. "Yes. We need a plan."

"We have a plan." Warriors says, as if it should be obvious.

"Since when?"

"An hour after we saw them. Some of us have been getting shit done." Legend adds helpfully.

"Legend." Warriors sighs. Though he dosen’t seem too far away from the sentiment.

"You didn't tell me?" Time asks, sounding genuinely upset.

"The only people who can pull you out of your spirals consistently are the reason you're spiraling. We tried." Pegend tolls his eyes.

"You're not the only one who misses then, Time." Warriors sits beside Time gently. "You may know Malon the best, but we all like her."

"And we all love (Y/n). Not the way you do, but they're one of us." Wild says firmly, "Twilight is barely keeping it together. You know he hates losing loved ones to portals."

Oh.

Time realizes he's really been disconnected. Of course, everyone else misses you and Malon.

He didn't even think about how the others might feel.

Shit.

"I'm sorry." Time says as he looks between his three companions. "I haven't- been present latley."

"We'll forgive you, this time." Wild gives a little grin, "Just don't get lost in your gear again."

"Deal."

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu time x reader #lu malon x lu time #lu malon x reader #time x malon x reader #htfilt #fluff

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deakyjoe · 2 years ago

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 8

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her, British, backstory)

Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: A slice of heaven is created as you get a glimpse at what could be.

Warnings: smut (18+), PinV, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), creampie, riding, praise kink, cum eating, f receiving oral, fingering, swearing/cursing, British terminology/slang, insecurities (light angst but not really), overthinking, children, mask is off, domestic Ghost, Ghost receiving compliments, sexually suggestive talking, Ghost reassures you for once, *** to indicate where smut starts and ends

Word count: 5.6k

A/N: Thank you so much for all the support and praise I got on the last part! This idea has been rattling around in my head for ages and I was going to leave it out but then decided to write it anyway just to see how it came out and here it is. Sorry it took me so long, hope you enjoy! Part 9 here.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The sudden burning happiness the two of you created was glorious. It almost didn't feel real. It was sudden and unexpected. But there wasn't a single thing in the world that you'd trade for it and you hoped that Simon felt the same. You assumed he did.

And your assumption would be correct. Although, the man would never voice it to you openly. Instead, he showed it through his actions, the way he looked at you and other small things he said. But it was perfect that way. The two of you were happy, and that was all that mattered.

"Y'know... you have the nicest eyes, like, ever!" The two of you were on your sofa. Well, Simon was sat on your sofa and you were on his lap, leg either side of his thighs and facing him. You had your hands on his face, palm on each cheek, to keep him looking at you. You often did this, just sat together content with nothing but the other’s company.

His grip on your hips tightened in warning. He still couldn't take a compliment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Sarge."

"Oh, please. It's gotten me everywhere. Especially with you." You grinned at him, staring more intensely at his eyes. "They're so dark and warm and... deep. Could just drown in 'em. And your eyelashes. So fair and beautiful."

He huffed, moving his gaze away from you.

"No, no. Eyes on me." You whined, gleeful when he reluctantly looked back at you. "You need to learn how to take a compliment. Because I can't stop."

"And what are you going to do if I don't? Hm?"

You considered it, pondering on what you could possibly say to him that would entice him to learn how to take a compliment. Your fingers tapped mindlessly against the skin of his face as you thought about it.

He pulled your hips further against him to gain your attention. It worked. "I can hear the cogs in your brain turning. You don't need to think that hard to come up with some way to torture me into submission."

With a smirk, you leant towards him. So close that your noses almost touched. "Interesting choice of words there, Simon."

"You know what I mean." He rolled his pretty eyes.

"Yes, I do. Too bad. I'd torture you into submission if you wanted me to." You said in a fake nonchalant voice, focusing your attention behind him on nothing in particular.

He paused, mouth hanging open for a second. "I will keep that in mind."

You smiled at him, going in for a kiss when your phone started ringing. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Don't answer it." Simon pleaded with you, trying to guide his lips to yours.

"I have to. It's about tomorrow." You groaned, reaching for it on the other end of the sofa and answering it with an over enthusiastic tone in your voice. "Hey! What's up?"

The day out that you'd promised your friends' kids had finally been organised. You were due to pick them up at nine in the morning the next day, and take them wherever they desired to go. As you usually did. The only difference this time being that you were taking Simon along with you.

"Yes, it's all good. We'll do what we usually do. I'll drive to yours and leave the car. Then I'll use the minivan. It'll be fine. I've done this how many times now? And I'll have Simon with me this time. Extra support. Don't worry so much. I'll keep them safe. It'll be fun. Okay? Yeah? Alright. I'll see you in the morning. Yeah, he's here. She says hi."

Simon just nodded at you as he continued to watch the phone conversation play out, only having access to one end of it.

"Yes, okay. I know. Yep. Alright. Okay. Bye. No, yeah. Fine. Bye. Bye..." You finally got to hang up with an exaggerated sigh, slumping against Simon's chest. "I hope you're prepared for tomorrow."

"Six kids and only two of us? Sounds like a blast." He'd agreed because he didn't want to spend a second away from you anymore, let alone a whole day. Also, the children were nice. He could handle helping look after them for a day.

"It'll be easy peasy. I've been doing it alone for ages. Extra man power now with you means it'll be a breeze. Teamwork, y'know?"

Teamwork.

He smiled. "I know."

"I love it when you smile." Your index finger traced along his lips, outlining the expression of happiness he was showing you.

"Just for you, Sarge." He kissed the pad of your finger, resisting the urge to bite it playfully.

You chuckled quietly, pressing your mouth to his. "I'm so lucky."

"Think I'm the lucky one." He mumbled against your lips.

You pulled away reluctantly. “I suggest we go to bed now if we want to be awake and prepared for tomorrow.”

It wasn’t necessarily early to be going to bed or anything, just that the two of you usually spent your nights talking into the early hours of the morning. Or doing other things…

“Christ, you look as if I just offered to castrate you or something.” You giggled, pushing yourself off of Simon’s lap to stand up. “Come on, I’ll read you a bedtime story.”

“Ha ha.” He laughed sarcastically but took your hand and followed you to the bedroom anyway. He’d been spending every night there since New Year’s Day, only returning home briefly every few days to pick up a fresh set of clothes. Basically, the two of you had barely spent any time apart since he’d kissed you for the first time. And neither of you were complaining.

The two of you got ready for bed silently, standing at the sink together to brush your teeth and removing your dirty clothes from the day to put in the laundry. You crawled into bed together without a word said and assumed the position you took every night - chest to chest with you slightly lower in the bed so you could look up at him and rest your head in the crook of his neck if you needed to. Simon’s arms were wrapped around you, hands tracing patterns against your skin, and your fingers carded through his hair. It was a way for you to seek comfort in the other without having to say anything.

And you often started the day in the same way as you had on New Year’s Day - him spooning you and using the cuddling as the best position to fuck you. It was perfect every time.

Tonight though, the blond man could tell you weren’t as relaxed as usual.

“What’s wrong, Sarge?” He asked, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You grumbled, hooking your leg over one of his to get as close as possible to him. “Don’t want tomorrow to be too much for you, is all.”

“Ah, so you’re overthinking.” He offered, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you admitted it with a single nod. “Don’t. It’ll be fine.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, still not looking sure.

“You said earlier that it will be a breeze. What changed your mind?” One of his hands curled around the back of your thigh, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“The kids will be a breeze to look after, they’ll be on their best behaviour.”

“Then what?”

“I’m concerned for you.” You said, averting your eyes from his. “They’ll be energetic and you’re… not. Spending a whole day with them will be exhausting. And I know you get over socialised.”

His heart tugged in his chest at how you were worried about him. He was so absolutely, completely fucked. “It’ll be okay, Sarge. As long as you’re by my side, it’ll be okay.”

You brightened at that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He confirmed with a lingering kiss, tongue meeting yours to solidify his point further. “Now go to sleep. Long day ahead tomorrow, remember?”

You shook your head, teasing smile on your lips as you wound your arms around the back of his neck. “Nuh-uh. One more.”

He obliged and kissed you again, ignoring the previous statement of “one more” as it turned into many more and eventually led to him on top of you, dog tags dangling in your face.

When you both awoke the next morning to your blaring alarm, you didn’t have time to go about your usual routine of him taking you from behind. And you both hated it as you dragged yourselves out of bed and got ready for the day ahead. Despite the two of you being used to early starts when on duty, you’d grown used to sleeping in wrapped in each other’s arms and only getting up when you really needed to.

As he rummaged through his bag, Simon realised he only had one set of clothes left. He’d need to go home later in the day to pick up some more, he noted to himself.

With bleary eyes and two to-go cups of coffee clutched in your hands, you met Simon at the front door and gratefully accepted his offer to drive as you left to pick the kids up. You loved the children, you really did, and you’d promised them a day out but you were regretting that decision now. All you wanted was lazy days with Simon before reality set in again. Yet, here you were - about to spend the next eight or so hours constantly counting the amount of kids you had at your side in an effort not to lose any of them.

When you arrived at your friend’s house, you barely had any time to get out of the car before she was rushing out of her front door frantically with six pairs of feet scuttling behind her.

“Ah! You’re here!” She cheered, a manic smile on her face. She looked tired. The children that weren’t hers had stayed overnight for a sleepover in order to make pickup easier for you. You were guessing she didn’t handle it all that well. “Here are the keys to the minivan.”

A set of keys was shoved into your hands as she whirled around on the children, chimed a quick goodbye and disappeared back into the house without another word.

The kids all looked up at you expectantly, bags on their backs and wide smiles.

“Hello, gremlins. Did you all behave yourselves last night?” You asked, hands on your hips to tell them you wanted a truthful answer.

“Yes.” They giggled in unison.

“Good.” You grinned and reached out to grip Simon’s arm. “You all remember my friend, yes?”

They nodded and waved at him. He, adorably, waved back.

“He’ll be coming with us today. Which reminds me… where are we going today? Have you all decided?” You asked as you began to herd them towards the minivan.

“Aquarium!” One of them shouted.

“Hmmm, and you all agreed?” You questioned and they nodded, climbing into their seats in the back of the minivan. “Great! Come on then, let’s get going.”

The last one was buckled in and you slammed the door on them, turning to Simon with a nervous smile.

“Ready for this?”

His large hands cupped your cheeks. “So ready.”

“You’re very confident.” You teased, leaning into his touch as he bent down to kiss you.

“With you by my side, Sarge, I’m ready for anything.” It was mumbled against your lips, noses nudging together.

“Romantic piece of shit.” You bit back but accepted his kiss, fists curling into the material of his shirt. You pulled away suddenly. “This is not family friendly.”

He suddenly straightened up, gaze glancing towards the windows of the minivan which were, unfortunately, tinted so he couldn’t tell whether the children had been watching. “Fuck, sorry. Got carried away.”

You laughed and rounded to the driver’s side of the minivan. “I’m flattered, Riley. Come on.”

Simon climbed into the passenger side and he thought that the two of you had gotten away with it until one of the kids shot forward in their seat. "Errr, you two can't kiss!"

You rounded on them with a gasp. "Nosy! And who said?"

"You're not married!"

"Unmarried people can kiss." You told them, sticking the keys into the ignition and turning the radio down low.

"What?!" The children gaped at you. “But why would you want to?”

You laughed. “Because kissing people you like can be nice.”

“So you like Simon?”

“Yes.” You replied, looking at them in the rear view mirror.

“Like like him?”

“Yes, like like him.” You smiled at the man in question, enjoying the way he avoided your eyes for once.

“Oh. Okay!”

“Alright.” You sighed and checked directions to the nearest aquarium on your phone.

"Mr Simon?" One of the kids dragged out his name in a whine.

"Yes?" He mocked their tone, eyes meeting yours as he stopped himself.

"Why did you put your tongue in her mouth?"

He froze, desperately looking at you for an answer. But you just cackled for a moment.

"Uhh..."

"Ask your parents when you're older." You offered out, patting Simon's thigh reassuringly. "Alright, let's get going!"

The subject was dropped after that, the children too excited for their day out to care any more about you and Simon kissing. He was relieved.

He stayed silent for the whole drive, just listening to the stories that the kids had to tell you and your enthusiastic responses to them. No wonder you were so good at keeping the team upbeat and managed to match Soap’s energy. You had training.

When you reached the aquarium and got out of the vehicle, you set out some ground rules.

“Okay, so… no running off, make sure you can see either me or Simon at all times, no talking to strangers unless you’re asking a question to someone who works in the aquarium. And how can you tell if someone works in the aquarium?”

“Blue uniform!” They called out to you.

“Yes, great! If you need the toilet then let me know straight away so we can find one, no tapping on the glass or putting your hands into tanks, keep your bags on your backs and most importantly… have fun and learn lots! Now, everybody find a partner.”

This was a standard rule you had every time you went out with them. If they each had a partner then it was easier to keep them all in check. Besides, it gave them someone to talk to for the whole day instead of fighting for your attention.

There was a light tapping on the side of Simon’s thigh. He looked down to find one of the kids staring up at him hopefully. It was the same one that had come to collect him at the Christmas party when you needed help in the kitchen.

"Will you be my partner, Mr Simon?" He squeaked, clearly nervous for some reason.

Simon looked to you for reassurance and found you nodding encouragingly. So he looked back to the small child. "Sure, kid."

What he didn't expect was to have to hold hands with him, but he didn't protest. Especially when he saw the look on your face, like you were proud of him.

"Okay, everybody?" Your hand was linked with one of the other children's. "Ready to go?"

They all chimed in with a "yes" so you started walking, leading the way with Simon at the back to keep the group together.

You paid entry for the group of you, getting a map for you and activity books for the kids, and made your way into the building.

“There’s a piranha feeding soon, do you want to go?” You asked everyone and they all nodded.

You led the way towards where it was supposedly happening and joined the side of a large group of people who had already gathered to watch. It didn’t take long before a man walked out with a bucket of something that smelt bad and grinned at the group, tapping at the side of the microphone attached to his face.

“Hello, ladies and gents! How are you today?”

The children in the crowd sent him variations of hellos and other greetings, wide eyes set on the tank of fish behind him.

He started off by ladling scoops of something into the tank, pointing out the reaction of the fish as he did so. Then he turned to the crowd with a mischievous smile. “Anyone like to volunteer to help?”

Several small hands shot up as children begged to be involved but then lowered back down sadly when the man had to explain that this was an adults-only opportunity.

“Come on, parents. Show your kids you can be cool for a day.” His eyes locked on Simon suddenly. “Maybe a big, strong man to help, hm?”

You pushed him forwards, urging him to do it. “Come on, Simon Swayze. Feed the piranhas.”

He stepped forward hesitantly, hissing over his shoulder at you. “I hate you.”

“Ooh, very big, strong man.” The man’s eyes trailed up and down Simon’s towering figure, gaze flicking to you behind him and scanning over all of the children. "Well, you two have been busy."

You laughed. "Not ours actually. We're babysitting."

The man looked to Simon disbelievingly, dropping the ladle back in the bucket with a comedic plop. "What's wrong with you, man? Get on with it!"

Simon said nothing in return, his own eyes widening slightly at basically being told to impregnate you as he stepped forward further to help with the feeding. When he was handed a set of tongs, he didn’t look thrilled.

“So, just pick up a piece and drop it in gently. Yeah?” The worker explained.

“Yeah.” Your lieutenant replied, doing as he was told.

“Yay, Simon!” The kids chimed and you noticed the way he relaxed at their encouragement. He rushed through the rest of it and was thankful when the feeding was over and he was set free, coming back to you and suggesting that you move on to look at another enclosure. You didn’t comment on the fact that he appeared to be scared of the tiny fish he’d just been feeding.

The day went quickly, stopping briefly in the middle for lunch, and soon enough you were driving back to take the kids home with all of them asleep in the back of the car.

“What was your favourite thing we saw today?” You asked, head tilted back as far as possible without hindering your view on the road.

“Jellyfish. Yours?” Simon replied, hand on your thigh sliding up and down your leg.

“Seahorses. Why the jellyfish?”

“They float around happily doing nothing. Seems like a peaceful existence.” He explained, thumb circling against your skin. “Why seahorses?”

“They’re cute.” You said meekly, not as confident in your response as his.

“That’s a good enough reason.” He told you, squeezing your thigh gently.

You hated to wake the children up when you got back but it had to be done. They were ushered back inside the house, ready for their parents to pick them up or have dinner, after hushed goodbyes and tired hugs. The last child, the one who seemed to have taken a particular interest in Simon, refused to get out of the car awake. So Simon offered to carry him inside the house and meet you back in your car. You just nodded, surprised at the suggestion.

Once he’d placed the mostly unconscious kid on the sofa and turned to leave, he finally got a coherent sentence out of him. “If you like like her and like to kiss her then maybe you should marry her, Mr Simon.”

Kids really did say whatever came into their heads.

He said nothing and left quietly, saying a quick goodbye to your friend and nodding quickly when she asked if it was going well between the two of you. He didn’t want to talk about it with anyone other than you.

You stuck your head out of the car window just as their front door shut and your tall lieutenant trotted towards you. "Come the fuck on, Simon.”

"Did you just make a Bridget Jones reference?"

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Did you just understand the Bridget Jones reference?"

"Secret sappy rom-com lover, remember?" He said as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car, pointing at himself wearily.

“Ah, how could I forget? One of the many reasons I like like you.” You sighed and started the car, the two of you speeding away back to your place.

When you got back, Simon headed towards the bathroom for a shower, mumbling something about needing more clothes. You just went to your room and collapsed onto your bed, eyes closed and listened to the sounds of the water hitting the bathtub in the next room over.

You don’t know how long he was in there, drifting in and out of sleep, only taking notice when the water stopped and the bathroom door opened.

Simon walked into your bedroom slowly, hair dark and damp from the shower and t-shirt hanging loosely on him. That sight certainly woke you up. You could just devour him.

"Good shower?" You asked and he hummed with a small nod as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. "Are you hungry?"

"A little. You?" He sat on the bed next to you, sidling up close. Now that he had plenty of access to it, the man loved physical contact.

"I could wait." You trailed your fingertips lightly up the side of his arm, the implication clear.

"Well, what do you want to do? To build up your appetite, I mean?" He knew. He always knew.

"You look good with wet hair." You whispered, not looking in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to contain your smile. "You look good always. You also look good caring for six kids."

"Sarge?" He tapped the bottom of your chin with his finger to encourage you to look up at him. "If you want to have sex then just say so."

You rolled your eyes. "I was trying to seduce you by showering you in flattering compliments."

He rolled his right back at you. "You don't need to seduce me."

Your eyes widened in embarrassment. "Oh, god... am I not seductive?"

"What?" He frowned, not understanding where you got that conclusion from.

"I mean, like, am I not... y'know?" You gestured at yourself with wiggling hands.

"I do not know." He really didn’t.

You huffed. "Am I not seductive? Or sexy? Or... foxy? Whatever the youth are saying these days."

"The youth?" He deadpanned.

"I never thought about it really. Am I just embarrassing myself when I try to be flirty?” Your hands clutched at your head. “Oh, fuck me."

"I was trying."

Your thoughts were becoming erratic, uncontainable. It wasn’t good. "Well, this is a devastating revelation. All those times I've flirted, I've initiated. All gone to waste, all times I've embarrassed myself."

Simon’s confusion just grew. "I really don't know what you're talking about now."

"Maybe I should retreat into a life of celibacy."

"That would be unfortunate."

"Spare the world of myself." You sighed dramatically.

"Unfortunate for me, especially."

You raised your knees to your chest, arms curling around your legs. "I hate myself."

"Ssshhh, stop talking." He shut you up with a kiss. "You need to calm down."

"But-" You protested, ready to voice every irrational idea that had rocketed through your mind in the last couple of minutes.

He kissed you again. "No, no."

"I ramble, I'm sorry." You pouted at him, clearly upset with yourself.

The corners of his lips upturned. "You're sexy when you ramble."

"Ugh, fuck off." You pushed his face away from you.

His hands were raised in surrender. "Thought you wanted to be seductive."

"Not through my annoying habits." You snapped.

"But your annoying habits are what I like about you.”

"Mhm, how appealing. Jesus, why do you like me?"

"Sarge..." He chimed, tapping at your chin with his fingers.

"No seriously? My annoying habits?" You despised that idea.

"I beg of you to stop."

"Thought you liked my rambling."

"I do. But not your spiralling." His fingers traced up the side of your face to your temple, like he was pointing out the source of the spiralling.

"If you think this is spiralling then you should see the inside of my head."

He leant in to kiss your forehead. "Wish there was a way for me to see inside that gorgeous brain of yours.”

"Weirdo."

"Charming." He scoffed.

"Told you, not seductive." You pointed at yourself harshly.

"Wouldn't say that. I was turned on from your strange little compliments." He shrugged.

"Condescending bastard."

"I'm being genuine." As much as he couldn’t take a compliment himself, Simon couldn’t stand to see you being so self deprecating. The idea of you seeing yourself as anything less than perfect was impossible for him to comprehend.

You frowned at him. "Odd man."

"Would it help if I said that I find you seductive, sexy, foxy or any other words the youth might be using?"

You tried to contain your smile but failed. "Might help a little."

"Then I find you seductive, sexy, foxy and every other word the youth are using."

"Hmm."

He decided to move on, you weren’t going to accept the truth for now. "Hungry yet?"

"No." Your head shook from side to side roughly.

"Good, my appetite has passed."

Your head ducked. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “Be naked instead."

You burst into laughter. "Okay, I feel better. You're less seductive than me."

"I'm insulted. No one can be as bad as you."

"Simon!" You gasped, the smile still on your face.

"I'm joking, Sarge." He cupped your chin and kissed you quickly.

“I’m still offended.”

“Oh, shut up.” He scoffed and kissed you again, arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his lap. He loved having you on top of him, feeling your weight pressed against him. It was a reminder than this was his reality, a grounding effect almost.

***

It didn’t take long before you were both naked, you still on top of him and his fingers buried inside of you to prepare you for him.

“Come on, Sarge. One more and I promise to fuck you. Need you nice and wet first. Come on, good girl.” He said breathily, enjoying the reactions on your face as he curled his fingers inside of you to hit the right spot. “Fuck… that’s it, good girl.”

He knew what he was doing by calling you that.

And that point was proven when you came, crying out his name and digging your fingernails into the skin of his shoulders. He pressed a soothing kiss against your lips, tongue lapping against yours to show you his appreciation and praise.

He was hard underneath you and wasted no time in allowing you to sink down onto him, gasping into his mouth when you sat against him fully, buried to the base.

“Jesus- fuck, Sarge.” He garbled, jaw tensed and eyes on you as your own rolled into the back of your head from the pleasure. He filled you so well and no amount of words, from either of you, would ever express that.

You clenched around him as you got used to the feeling of him inside you. No matter how many times you’d been in this situation, it never got any less surprising at how good it felt.

“God, fuck, please start moving. I can feel you- can feel you- fuck!” He cut himself off when your hips rolled against his.

Your head fell to his shoulder, you were completely over sensitive from what he’d been doing to you before this that every minute movement was magnified by a thousand. Your legs were already shaking and you could feel the burn pulsing through you from how tired you were. But, god, you wanted to please him. So you pushed forward.

Your hips rolled against his again, the drag of him in and out of you creating a friction that had the two of you gasping for air. And again, and again, and again.

“That’s it, Sarge. Keep going.” His hand found the back of your neck where he dragged you back to look into your eyes, finding your face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked up against yours of their own accord and the way it made parts of you bounce from the impact had his gaze lowering to the dog tags dangling from your neck. He didn’t need to ask permission, he could see it in your eyes as soon as they locked again. The chain was wrenched from your neck and replaced with his in a split second, yours being placed around his neck at the same time.

The action set the two of you off into a lust fuelled frenzy.

You rocked against him desperately, chasing every bit of pleasure you could get for both him and yourself. Your hands threaded into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer so your chests rubbed against each other and your dog tags tangled together. It was poetic really. Sharing the piece of you that represented your identity by giving it to the other as a symbol of dedication. Only to have them intertwine anyway.

“Simon.” You whined into his mouth as a warning that you wouldn’t last much longer.

“I know, Sarge, I know.” He returned, kissing you and practically tasting the moans that were pouring out of your mouth.

The sweat coating the both of your bodies in a shiny sheen meant that your skin glided against one another easily. And neither of you would have been surprised if the windows had steamed up. Moreover, Simon’s hair was wet. Whether it was from the shower he took or from this, neither of you knew. All he knew is that he’d probably need to shower again after this. The room was hot and humid, an atmosphere created by the two of you.

Suddenly you tensed against him, arms locking around his shoulders and walls fluttering around him. The noise you let out against his neck as you came was heavenly and Simon almost lost himself to that sound alone.

He knew you were spent so he wrapped his arms around you and shifted so you laid underneath him on the bed, careful not to move out of you at any point. With the new position, and a quick check in with you to make sure you were okay, he rocked his hips against yours a few more times in uneven thrusts before finishing inside of you with a groan let out against the skin of your chest.

You giggled sleepily as he pressed soft kisses to your sweat-soaked skin but mumbled a short protest when he pulled out of you. He shushed you with a few mumbled apologies.

Simon looked down at the mess the two of you had created as it slowly seeped out of you, satisfied. He gently pushed it back in and gathered some of it on his fingers at the same time, raising them to your lips and tapping gently.

“Have a taste of us, Sarge.” He whispered huskily, appreciating the glimmer in your eyes as you nodded and took him inside your mouth.

And when you hummed happily around his fingers, he wanted a taste for himself.

He lowered himself between your thighs, pressing open mouthed kisses to the flesh there, and started licking at you, groaning at the taste of what the two of you had created. He lost track of the amount of time he spent there, especially after he managed to get you to come again - your thighs trembling on either side of his head. All he knew was that in the time spent between your legs, it had grown very dark outside and he still had no clothes for tomorrow.

***

So he pulled away from you reluctantly. "I need to go." He said, attempting to stand up.

"Nooo..." You whined, dragging him back down. "Just five more minutes."

He looked down at you with a sigh, the pleading and the mischief in your eyes being too tempting. "Fine. Five more minutes. That's it."

He stayed another two hours.

And when he did finally manage to depart, he made you promise to stay naked and waiting for him in bed. But, as much as you did want to do as you were told and abide by his request as he left, it was cold and you were thirsty.

So you put some clothes on and trotted to the kitchen for a drink, deciding on the farmers' market apple juice you regularly stocked up on now. With the glass in your hand, you sat on the sofa to see what was on television.

Before you could, the surface of the coffee table shook slightly as your phone started ringing, unknown number flashing on the screen.

Fuck.

You picked it up cautiously and pressed it close to your ear, taking in a deep breath. "Hello?”

There was a gruff mumble of your name from the voice you'd been dreading to hear the past few months.

You shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself for the inevitable. "Yeah?"

"It's Price."

A/N: and so it begins… or ends. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

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spark-my-nature · 11 months ago

Text

Gingerbread Kisses - SFK

To the lovely Ari @doveabovetheworld, Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you have a great holiday!

Love from Secret Santa 🎅❤️

⭐︎

Christmas is a time of love, even from the most unexpected places.

Sam x Reader | Words: 2.7K | Warnings: Language, implied sexual situations but nothing explicit, just fluff!

��︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

Really, it was Sam’s fault.

He should know better by now not to leave you alone, and as you stood in your kitchen surrounded by the evidence of your latest attempt at mastering something in the kitchen, blaming your poor, innocent friend was the hill you chose to die on.

It started off much better, in your defense, with a lot less raw gingerbread dough dripping down the backsplash of your counter. The recipe had seemed foolproof, having even provided a printable template. And damnit, you wanted to impress him for once. Could you have bought a kit at the store along with the dozens of types of candy for decoration that lined your table? Sure, but the thought of Sam’s face when he arrived to your apartment and realized you’d baked the houses from scratch seemed too glorious to pass up at the time.

And now, you’d still get a memorable face out of him, just a little more teasing than you’d hoped for. Because the half-charred edges of cookie that mocked you from their baking sheet didn’t look fit to go close enough to smell, let alone eat.

You let a long sigh deflate your shoulders, untying the apron you now felt unworthy of owning, and you had just ran a floury hand across your face when two abrupt thuds at the door startled you.

Huffing, you crossed your apartment quickly, yanking the door open to a perfectly disheveled, christmas sweater-adorning, sweet smelling, and angel-faced Sam Kiszka.

“You picked today of all days to arrive early?” you grouched, a tiny smile giving you away, as your best friend held up a grocery bag beside his beaming grin.

“I did, I thought traffic would be worse,” he waved you off sweetly, kicking his shoes off on the mat. “Brought us some house kits, though, look!”

You grabbed one handle of the bag, sighing in both resentment and relief as he pawed through the confectionary. “Well thank god, cause uh…” you blushed and gestured shyly behind you.

Sam finally looked up, and you watched with embarrassment and humor as his face shifted from his goofy smile, to shock, and slowly into a shit-eating grin.

“What did you do?” his voice betraying the giggle he choked the words out through.

Grunting, you shoved the bag back into his hands and turned heel, grabbing dishes and beginning to set them in the sink to soak off the mess. “Tried to make gingerbread.”

He came up behind you, setting the bag on a cleared off part of the counter, and with his trademark fluidity and confidence, he gracefully spun his back to the counter beside you and leaned on one elbow. Hitting you with a grin that made your head feel a little floaty, he watched you work for a moment.

“I uh… admire the effort,�� he nodded, smirking a little more as his eyes darted towards the dough still decorating the walls.

You simply rolled your eyes, scoffing and blushing despite your best efforts. “Whatever, at least I tried.”

“Hey, I said I admire it,” he grinned, eyeing the streak of flour adorning your cheek that you seemed adorably oblivious to.

When you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, you caught him with his eyes lingering a little more tenderly than usual across your face. “What…?” you quietly asked, turning off the tap.

He blinked, then cleared his throat, straightening up and stepping closer. Softly, he muttered, “You got a little…” and with wide eyes, you watched him extend his hand to your face, gently swiping his thumb outward from the apple of your cheek.

“Oh-“ you blushed harder, turning your face down as your reached up to swipe at your face, bashful under the warmth of his gaze. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist, smiling faintly when you met his eyes.

“Cute,” he quietly stated, lips quirking sideways in a crooked little smile.

“Cute?” you questioned, staring interrogatively up at him with a playful smirk, waiting for the punchline that was sure to follow.

But it didn’t, he only nodded, using that same gentle hand to tuck the hair that had fallen from your messy bun behind your ear. You caught a hint of a blush beginning to color his cheeks, and slowly it began to sink in that he wasn’t teasing.

“Oh,” you grinned awkwardly, heart thudding behind your ribcage, frozen in place and relishing his sweet, undivided attention. It wasn’t unlike him, but he wasn’t exactly known for serious moments like this, and it made you nervous as hell when they happened. Mostly because they made you start wondering if maybe he felt the same about you as you’d always felt about him. But those moments had always broken like a baseball through a pane of glass, and he’d go back to his goofy, ‘just friends’ Sammy self, and you’d kick yourself for reading too much into it again.

His stare this time was unwavering though, and he coupled it with a tiny, nervous blip of a laugh, chewing on his lip. “Mhm,” he simply offered, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was almost… shy.

The lightheadedness was catching up with you, and in a moment of overwhelmed cowardice, you broke eye contact, gesturing to the bag he brought with him. “So, uh, what else did you get?”

Sam swallowed, brows furrowing as he threw a hand through his hair, turning to the groceries. “Uh- right, I got, um…” he opened it, pulling out various candies and the two gingerbread kits. You peered over the bag, up on your tippytoes.

“Standard stuff,” he explained dryly, smirking, “you got your candy canes, your chocolate swirls, your peppermints…”

You nodded, smiling up at him as he rattled off at least another ten kinds of candies, and when he had emptied the bag, you led him into the living room where you already had the TV set up in front of the table.

“Oh shit- lemme grab something, forgot it in the car,” Sam mumbled distractedly, quickly making his way out the door and back before you could blink. With a beaming grin, he held out a takeout tray with two paper cups, eagerly pronouncing, “Hot chocolates!”

Biting your lip to control the smile stretching across your face, you took yours from him as you both sat down on the couch.

Quietly, as you popped open the tab on the lid, you remarked, “you really thought of everything, huh?”

Sam sipped his drink, shrugging one shoulder as he eyed you. Swallowing with a loud smacking sigh, he smiled playfully, “Pretty much.”

Wrinkling your nose, you took a drink and set down your cup. “You’re pretty sweet, you know that?”

Sammy waved a dismissive hand, looking at his lap, and your smile softened. “I mean it, I… you make me so happy, all the time. It’s your superpower.”

Sam giggled at that, looking up and meeting your gaze, and your eyes locked for several long moments before he gently answered.

“It’s my favourite thing to do.”

Feeling a flush warming up your cheeks, you grinned crookedly, “what is?”

With a blush colouring his cheeks but not a trace of embarrassment, Sam simply murmured, “making you happy.”

Quietly, you searched his face in your flustered confusion, and his smile slowly relaxed into a gentle expression.

“Sammy…” you started, heart rate spiking as your thoughts raced around your mind. Not wanting to misread his gentle searching eyes, not daring to read into his sweet words.

Then he cleared his throat softly, and your eyes shot down when you felt him take your hands in his, resting on your lap. As he toyed with your fingers, he started, “I think there’s something I need to say to you. And you know… Christmas and all, I just figure, it’s a good time… right?”

Your brows drew together, watching this normally larger than life man take on such a serious persona. “Okay,” you cocked your head.

Sam’s lips quirked up in a lopsided grin, and he huffed out a soft shy laugh. “So… um… well I was walking Rose last week, through the public gardens, yknow? That spot I took you to in the fall?”

When you nodded, he continued, “Right, well I passed that hideous statue of the lil elf dude, and I remembered how hard we laughed at him that time, but the thing is… it wasn’t even that funny. I stared at it for a solid ten minutes, probably really weirded out some families,” he chuckled, his fingers tensing and relaxing in between yours as he spoke, absently fidgeting the way you secretly always thought was adorable.

“Okay…?” You prompted, giggling softly.

“I… realized…” Sam shifted, clearing his throat again, his fingers clinging to yours tight for a moment, “…that it wasn’t the statue that made me laugh like that, it was just you.”

You snorted, and he seemed to realize what his words meant, blushing and laughing at himself as he quickly shook his head. “No no no, fuck, that came out so wrong, I-“

You interrupted him with a very unattractive honk of a laugh, making him giggle and shake his head again. Taking a breath, he rode the wave of joy and finished his explanation.

“I realized then that I wanted you there, with me. I meant that the statue wasn’t nearly as funny or interesting or anything, without you beside me. And neither is anything else. You make everything in my life so much brighter, and more enjoyable, and warm and safe and… well, I kinda started to think about why I felt that way about you, so I may have… talked to Danny about it, and he-“ Sam huffed an exasperated laugh at the memory, staring firmly at your hands.

“He said, ‘for fucks sake Sam. We were waiting for you to realize but clearly you’re more of a dumbass then we thought.”

You smirked shyly, feeling your stomach flip in anticipation. “Sounds like Danny.”

Smiling wide, Sam nodded his agreement, “Yeah, and he’s right. I am a dumbass. Cause my best friend had to tell me for me to realize that I’m in love with you.”

Your pulse raced so fast you weren’t certain that it just stopped beating entirely. With the last scraps of clarity in your swirling mind, you squeaked, “You what?”

After a second’s hesitation, he lifted his gaze to you through his lashes, and licked his lips nervously, scanning your face.

You’d never seen him look so small. And you’d never felt your entire body buzz with electricity like it was. Your face slowly began to catch up with the butterflies attacking your stomach, and as your wondrous smile spread across your face, Sam relaxed infinitesimally before you.

“You love me?” You confirmed with a high pitched, nervous giggle.

He offered a tentative smile, eyes darting between yours, vulnerable and hopeful. “I love you so much.”

Staring at him for another second, you giggled, lifting a hand to run through your hair, flustered and giddy. Then you perked up suddenly, realizing how the boy in front of you sat at the edge of his seat for your answer.

“Oh! I love you too,” you rushed out, grabbing his hand again, smiling wide as Sam laughed, relief clouding his eyes as the tension in his body deflated.

“You love me? Really? You aren’t just saying that cause I did?” He interrogated, playing up the humor in his tone when the question itself was serious. He’d held out his heart to you, praying you wouldn’t break it.

“No, I do, I love you Sam,” you softly repeated, “I can’t believe you love me, I’m so…”

“-relieved?” he supplied gently, the both of you giggling as you nodded, delirious with your joy.

Your laughter stilled, and you both held each other’s gaze, electricity sparking to life all around you.

Sam’s hand left yours, bringing it up to slide gently over your cheek, making your heart flutter even harder in your chest. His eyes nervously dipped downwards, returning to your eyes, then glancing at your lips again before slipping his fingers sweetly into your hair.

His lips parted, hesitating a second before he shyly confessed, “…I’m dying to kiss you.”

Your face lit up in a wild grin, and you couldn’t stop the positively giddy sounding tease before it was past your lips. “Oh really?”

His mouth twisted in a crooked smirk, meeting your gaze again rather ironically in response.

“Do it,” you whispered, leaning forward a little in invitation.

Your heart melted, watching Sam’s face relax into a droopy, lovesick smile of relief, and his face drew into yours before your eyes both fluttered closed.

You took a short, shaky breath, and then felt his lips press to yours, so gently and sweetly. He held it for a few seconds, then his fingers slipped further behind your head, drawing you closer as his lips parted for a deeper, more passionate kiss.

Your heart pounded in your ears, so loud you almost missed the whisper quiet groan from his throat. Pouring your overwhelming emotions into the kiss, you surrendered to the feeling with a hum of your own, finally daring to bring a hand up to caress his jaw.

God, you’d never been kissed like this, like he’d rather suffocate than be separated from your mouth. His head tilted more, aligning his face even more perfectly to slip his tongue teasingly against your lip, a question of sorts. Still rather flustered, nervous in the exciting way a schoolgirl might feel kissing her crush in his car, you dared a brush of your tongue against his mouth, moaning quietly when he met yours with his almost accidentally.

Sam shivered, parting from the kiss reluctantly, and as your eyes fluttered open, you saw his still closed, his brows furrowed, tipped up in the middle giving away his neediness, and his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and shiny.

He blinked a few times, eyes focusing on your face, and he huffed a soft, goofy and pleased-with-himself laugh, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone. “Hi,” he rasped.

“Hey,” you mumbled, blushing pink and giggling.

“I’ve dreamt about that, y’know,” he informed you, smile turning mischievous. “Not nearly as good as the real thing.”

“I dream about you too,” you slipped, blushing harder when you realized what you said, making Sam coo fondly and draw closer again.

“Cute,” he subconsciously repeated his earlier word of choice.

“You’re cute,” you argued, biting your lip as his face teased nearer to yours again.

“You think so?” he pried flirtatiously, voice dropping to that low rasp that drove you insane.

Nodding, you swallowed, flustered all over again. Heat prickled at your skin, watching his pupils dilate, consuming those sweet, honey-brown irises. His long lashes drooped, his glances across your face accompanying his words, “I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”

Before you could answer, he kissed you again, a firm and warm kiss, fulfilling and whole, deliciously exciting and wanting.

Pulling him by the neck, you leaned back slowly, keeping him leaning on top of you until you sank into the throw pillows. Propping himself up above you, Sam murmured against your lips, “Whatcha doin?” with a shit-eating smirk, returning his mouth to yours before you could give him an answer.

And it was Sam’s fault, really, that the gingerbread houses went ignored for the rest of the evening.

Sam’s fault that you didn’t even drink the hot chocolates, only discovering their ice cold presence on your coffee table the next morning, wearing Sam’s shirt, hair a mess and a permanent smile etched into your cheeks.

And it was all on Sam that you had the best damn Christmas you could’ve ever dreamed of.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

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#greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet #greta van fluff #greta van fleet fic #sammy kiszka #sam kiskza #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sammy gvf #sam kiszka fluff

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wheezyseeker99 · 2 months ago

Text

Mine: Part 1

Warnings: pining, swearing, teasing, p in v, handjob

((AN: one of these days I’ll go back through the warnings and make them cohesive but today is not that day))

18+, MDNI

Summary: In honor of the flyers first preseason win, I sat down and finished this piece. This one is going to be the best friend’s brother trope because my bestie is a ginger and she always says he looks like her brother. Alternate universe obvs and I used y/n this time.

Summers in southern California with my best friend, Courtney, are always perfect. I have no cares in the world when I’m with her. I’ve already gotten a tan and she’s burnt to a crisp, which is usual for her. Her ginger hair and pale skin make it impossible for her to enjoy the sun. I’ve read through at least 3 books this week while her mom drove us around on the boat. It’s glorious.

Well, it was until her brother decided to come home.

Cam made his presence known immediately when he got to town. It’s rare that he’s around since he’s a hockey star for an nhl team on the east coast. I knew him before all of that. I knew the long hair boy playing roller hockey in the backyard. The one that I had a major crush on.

It was easy to have a crush on Cam. He’s always been laid back and nice to me. It was hard not to fall for him. I never told my best friend that though, and I don’t know how she’d react to that confession.

The feelings for Cam are still there, which is a problem. A big, big problem. I didn’t notice it until we came in after a day on the ocean. He was laid out on the couch, waiting for us to get home.

It shouldn’t have shocked me that Cam is a man now. When I walked through the door that day, I think I went into shock. His body has filled out since the last time I had seen him. I tried not to stare at how thick his thighs looked or how his biceps flexed. Or even how his shoulders looked when his tshirt stretches over them.

I definitely doubt he would ever look at me the way I look at him. I think it’s that fact that’s driving me up the wall. It’s been two days of being around him so far, and it’s extremely hard not to throw myself onto him. I have never felt this feral in my entire lifetime.

Today I tried to distract myself by helping Courtney and her mom decorate for the ‘Annual York 4th of July Celebration’ which basically consisted of me cleaning the main rooms in the house and making side dishes in the kitchen.

I’m standing over the stove stirring a pot of macaroni for the mac and cheese when Cam walks through the back door wearing nothing but shorts hanging low on his hips and running shoes. My eyes immediately went to his bare chest that’s drenched in sweat. His skin looks so nice when it’s flushed. Little freckles litter his skin along with the thick ginger chest hair. I snap my eyes away before he could notice I was eyeing him.

“Where’s everybody at? I come back from my run and all of the cars are gone.”

“Oh, your dad is going to pick up your grandparents, and Courtney and your mom are at the store. It’s just me here,” I tell him, trying to keep a straight face and keep my eyes away from him.

Cam leans onto the counter next to me. I feel the heat radiating off of him. I know his eyes are piercing into me.

“So we’re alone?”

I nod and keep my eyes on the task in front of me. Maybe if I stay quiet, he’ll go do something else. I stir the macaroni one last time and move over to the sink to drain the water.

“Finally,” he sighs. “I’ve wanted to get you alone since I got here.”

I whip my head to look at him and almost drop the pot. My jaw nearly drops to the floor.

“Huh?”

“We’ve never been alone before y/n, haven’t you noticed?”

I gulp. Of course I’ve noticed but I’d never tell him that. We always have Courtney around. I make sure of it for this very reason. My hands feel sweaty and I’m on the verge of stuttering. I finish draining the pot and bring the drainer to the empty baking dish.

“Nope Cam. I’ve never noticed.”

“Can I help you with this?”

He steps closer to me and I nearly flinch when he takes the drainer from my hands. I wipe the sweat from my hands on my apron and step toward the fridge.

“Sure, go ahead. I need to start chopping the hamburger toppings. The cheese should be ready to stir in if you can do that and then put it in the oven to keep it warm.”

Cam listens my instructions, and comes up next to me while I’m slicing tomatoes. He once again leans on the counter next to me. This time, a lot closer than before. I keep my head down, concentrating on how I need to be slicing the tomatoes.

“Any reason why you can’t look me in the eye?”

“I’m trying not to cut my fingers off,” I say sarcastically.

I stop for a second and look him in the eyes just to prove him wrong, but the moment I do, I get sucked into his blue irises. I don’t know how long I stared into his eyes, but it took everything in me to stop. I cleared my throat and looked back at the tomatoes before slicing more.

“Are you ever going to stop fighting it, y/n?”

“Fighting what?” I ask and attempt to hold my breath. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

“You’ve had a crush on me for years, probably just as long as I’ve had one on you, and you never acted on it.”

I sit down the knife and turn to him. I feel overwhelmed instantly at his words. He had a crush on me? And he knew I had one on him? If he knows, does Courtney know? My mind races with all of the thoughts that I barely remember to respond.

“How do you know that?”

“I can tell when your eyes are on me, y/n. You’ve done it for years.”

“I was that obvious,” I mutter under my breath.

Cam hums in response. He takes my hand into his, “is this okay?”

I nod and he gets impossibly closer, caging me in against the counter. He’s always been taller than me, but I never really knew that he would tower over me like this. My eyes trail over his face. Should I make a move? My mind races back to all the times I imagined this moment as I eye his lips. His face gets closer to mine and his nose brushes mine. His breath is hot against my lips while his eyes hypnotize me.

“You look like you want me to kiss you,” he whispers.

“I do,” I whisper back.

My heartbeat is out of control at this point, beating like it’s going to hammer out of my chest. I don’t think my brain is working at full capacity anymore. A smile spreads on his face and he cups my cheek in his large palm. His mouth hovers over mine. My eyes close when it comes in contact with mine.

Cam’s mouth is like heaven. It’s warm and firm, and I can feel the little scar against my lips.

My hands have a mind of their own. They make their way to his hair, sliding into the sweaty strands. Our tongues tangle, and he groans while his hands make their way to untie the apron from my waist. It falls to the floor and he grips my waist in one hand while his other glides up my body to cup my breast over my tank top. I should’ve worn a bra today but I didn’t, and he can clearly feel that when he touches me. His thumb brushes over the fabric and I moan into his mouth. His hips press into mine when I do. I can feel his erection growing in his shorts, and I know as a fact that this isn’t stopping here. We breathe heavily when he pulls his mouth from mine.

“How about this,” he breathes against my lips, “I turn off the oven and put this shit in the fridge while you go upstairs and wait for me.”

I nearly choke at his words, but I just nod at him mindlessly.

“Yes please.”

He lets me free and smacks my ass when I start to walk away. I turn back to look at him and he has the goofiest grin on his face. God, if I knew he had a crush on me then we could’ve done this sooner.

By the time I’m upstairs, I’m stumbling into the guest room. I looked around and started to panic. My room is a mess. I picked up my clothes off the floor and shoved them into the basket near the closet before I heard the door open. I glance over my shoulder as Cam shut the door and locked it. His eyes dragged down my still clothed body. I swear I could feel fire burning inside me.

“Where were we?”

He stalked towards me, but I put my hand up between us and it landed on his bare, hard chest.

“Wait. What’s going to happen? What about Courtney?”

“I want it all with you. We can settle the logistics and fight with my sister about it later,” he took my hand and slid his fingers through mine.

“Does that mean you’re going to ask me the question?”

“I was going to ask you out on a date first y/n,” he paused, “I was going to earn this, but I want you to be mine. What do you say?”

“I want you so yes Cam. You earned it,” I breathed. “Anything, just let me jump your bones really quick before everyone gets home.”

Cam giggled before I lost my composure completely. I slammed my lips onto his and walked him backwards to the bed. His mouth removed from mine and kissed down my neck to my chest, slowly sliding the straps of my tank top off my shoulders.

“You can jump my bones as long as I can taste you,” he smirked. “No bra?”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“Should think about it. My eyes went to these as soon as I walked in,” he says while moving the fabric down to my middle.

“Funny you mention that. My eyes went to your chest too,” I laugh softly.

“I knew that’s why you couldn’t look me in the eye,” he nips at my nipple and pulls back to look at me. “You need to be honest baby.”

“I will just-“ I grab his hands and bring them to my waistband. “Just take my clothes off.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Cam dragged down my yoga pants with my tank top and underwear, leaving me bare. I shivered slightly from the cool air coming from the vents and my nipples harden at the change in temperature. Cam tugs down his shorts. He tossed them to be with my clothes, and my hands went to his length as he claims my mouth again. He took my hand away and binded both of my wrists in his hand.

“Careful with that hand baby,” he grunted. “It feels too good and this could end too soon if you try that.”

I’m on my back before I know it. It almost knocked the breath out of me, how fast he could man handle me. His mouth covered my nipple again, and his free hand thumbed over the other one.

I hear a strangled moan escape his mouth and he sets my wrists free. My hands immediately went to his hair. Cam grabbed onto my legs and pulled them open so he can settle between them, his mouth still assaulting my breasts. I feel the anticipation deep in my core. It feels like it’s about to boil over and he’s barely touching me. I clench around nothing, waiting for him to make the move. His length ruts against me, grinding slow and steady. I sigh, tugging at his hair. I grip the sweaty strands for dear life when he enters me. My entire body hums in excitement.

“Oh my god y/n,” he moans.

“Move please.”

“So polite,” Cam laughs and nips at my neck. “Being polite will get you what you want baby.”

His hips move steadily but I can’t stop my hips from bucking into his. All of it wasn’t enough. His touch, his mouth, the way his body pressed into me. I need it all and more. His teeth scraped the skin of my neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted this,” he groans and drives himself deeper into me. “We fit perfectly.”

“We do.”

I never knew if or how someone could complete another person like how Cam is completing me. I didn’t know the feeling of being whole until now. When his hooded eyes meet mine, he understands it too. The blue irises trailed down my body, groaning when he looks at where we’re connected. I tugged his mouth back to mine, moaning against him. I didn’t even notice when his thumb ran over my clit. I hold him to me, taking in every movement he gives. Everything felt too good.

“So perfect. I’ve never felt so good in my entire life baby,” he rasped between breaths.

It doesn’t take long for me to cum. I cry out as he held me down and pistoned into me, his hips snapping. I barely have time to come down from my high when an idea crept its way through my mind.

“Wait. Don’t cum inside me yet.”

Cam’s eyebrows knit together and he stares at me in shock. I shocked myself too, to be honest. He slows his thrusts but doesn’t stop.

“I want to try something please,” I beg.

Cam lets out a whine. He can’t stop thrusting and I clench around him. The pressure is building again. I smooth a hand over his cheek to distract him. He nuzzles his head into it, waiting for me to instruct him.

“Pull out and lay down. Trust me.”

He obeys, lying down next to me. His sweaty hair is curling at the ends, reminding me of how his hair looked when we were kids. He still has that boyish charm, but as my eyes trail down his body, I can’t help but think about all of the fantasies I’ve had about him.

Now Cam’s body is stretched almost the full length of the bed next to me. Although his body is full of hard planes, his skin is soft. His chest heaved as I got comfortable on my side. He looks pretty like this. I lift a hand to his mouth.

“Spit,” I command him.

His eyes connected with mine when he lets the spit trail from his mouth to my palm. My hand reaches for his length, stroking it slowly as I smash my mouth onto his. I pump him slowly and build speed. Cam’s mouth attacks mine fiercely, the moaning from his lips never ceasing. His hand comes between my legs and he shoves two fingers inside me, pumping in and out. I bite down into his lip at the sudden impact.

I pull my mouth back and speed up my hand as fast as I can go. Cam’s eyes close and his hand is clenched between my thighs. His hips jolt up into my hand, telling me that he’s getting closer.

“You’re going to paint your chest and I’m going to lick it off. Do it for me Cam, you’re being so good.”

His hips jar slightly, moving in clumsy thrusts into my hand until he cums. Streaks of white paint his stomach and chest. It’s a beautiful sight. I lean down and lick his hot skin, swallowing as I go. Once I’m finished, I settle back onto my side and press a kiss to his cheek. He hasn’t said a word yet.

“You’re amazing Cam.”

“Fuck y/n,” he groaned. “Never stop praising me.”

“I should stop. Your ego is going to be the size of Texas.”

Cam giggles and presses a kiss to my lips. My hand mindlessly strokes through his hair. I pulled back and laid my forehead against his. We know we can’t stay here forever. I don’t know how long it’s been when he takes the first move to get up.

“I’m going to shower really quick baby. Stay naked and don’t leave this bed until I get back,” he says playfully as pulls on his shorts and walks to the door.

“I’ll be here as naked as you left me. I’m not leaving this bed until you get back.”

“Good girl.”

He closes the door behind him. Tonight is definitely going to be interesting.

Part 2 will come eventually…

#cam york smut #cam york x reader #cam york #camyork #cam york fic #nhl fics #nhl imagine

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dairy-farmer · 8 months ago

Note

My Thought(tm) of the Day! A Do-Over Verse! (o.o ) oh?

Yes! Tim. Glorious, brave, sexy. Dies in battle. It's the Big One, ya'll. A doomed timeline. Worst case scenario. Falling cities, few struggling survivers. The works.

Thing is? For each of them? That worst case scenario is DIFFERENT. Maybe one gets zombies. Another an alien invasion. A hell gate. Regardless, they survive. Fight and live on. Find The Rewind Clock.

A stopwatch that ticks backwards. One use. They.... they have so many regrets. Enemies are closing in. Bloodloss getting to them. They just want to see their family again. Be... better. Nicer to Tim. Save the world.

Click.

Time Rewinds ⏪.

And suddenly? Bruce is... sore. Not burned, parched, and cornered by literal cackling demons as the world burns. Not on his last leg. The last Wayne. The last hope of humanity, a species soon to finally die.

No. He's... exhausted. Wearing clothes he never wanted to see again. Stubble on his face and the ache of recent weeping in his throat. These are his mourning clothes. He's sitting at the Batcomputer. And checking the security feeds?

There is a determined, baby faced, young Timothy Drake... walking himself up the drive. A folder of damning evidence under his little arm.

Jason is dead and soon won't be. And Tim... he... he can start over.

He gets up. This time, he answers the door, instead of Alfred. Is serious when Tim lays out his case. Nods at the right moments. Tells him he's right.

Makes him Robin.

He's better this time. Gives feedback. Doesn't play mind games. Nurtures his brilliance. And Tim? Soaks it up. It burns Bruce, how easy it all could have been. The WARMTH Tim so freely offers. After so many mistakes? Bruce craves it like an addict.

But nothing could ever just be free, could it?

That damn end of the world scenario. He finally tracks it down. Has a MONTH left before Jason should be back. Only to get dragged into literal Hell along side Constantine and have to fight his way out. They close the damn gate. Forever.

It takes two months.

He's in pieces. Injured and still reeling from the horrors he's seen. But he has to try. Try to go get his son. Tim stops him. Keeps him from killing himself, trying to invade the heart of the League while half dead. But after the fires... all the fires... he's so cold. They JEERED and mocked him with his failures.

Like an Addict.

He needs to be closer. Closer and closer. Needs to cherish and be kind and SHOW Tim how much he means to him. But he can't! A lifetime if words trapped, refuse to break free, even now. The only time he's EVER been so intimate and soft is when he...

Wires not so much cross as long ago corroded. He NEEDS. He's kissing Tim's neck. Hands gentle. See? He CAN be gentle. Be tender and good. Not even taking for himself, just massaging muscles loose. Stroking soft, soft skin. Pulling close to cuddle, warm and precious, as he rubs and rubs until Tim comes apart under his gentle hands.

Tim clings so tight. Is punchdrunk and twitching. A first.

His Robin trusts him. Loves him. Is a curious, insatiable, lad. What new, unexpected, and pleasant thing is THIS? Tim let's him have so many firsts.

But what of Dick? Brother and Protecter of Timmeryly Innocence? He faced Vampires. Because of course it had to be sexy, sexy, Vampires. Frankly, he half expected it. But as they close in? He stands atop the hoard of every explosive left he could salvage and wonders if his family would have proud.

If this stupid stop watch will even work.

Where, exactly, he would have taken Timmers for a "Yay We Won!" Celebration dinner if they had, indeed, actually won. He misses pizza. And his friends. But most of all? His family.

Eat several hundred tons of chemical reactions, fuckers.

Click.

He's just finished unlocking a door he is VERY certain he sent a vampiric Deathstroke face first through. The door swings open aaaaand.... yep, that's his old apartment. What day is-?

Tim squeezes by him to start poking around.

Oh.

Dick stops caring. Tim is ALIVE. Smiling at him and joking. Dick feels floaty and far away. Let's Tim do as he pleases. And just... let's himself breathe. Feeling like he's wound too tight beneath his skin. Like at any moment a vampire will crash through a wall and ruin this beautiful dream.

Eventually, Tim notices.

He climbs into Dicks lap to hug him. Ground him. And... and something in Dick snaps. That heartbeat. That beautiful, beautiful heartbeat. Alive, alive, ALIVE. He's rolling them before he can think about it. Tim melting into his kisses. Then jerking and grabbing hold for dear life as he slides of the couch to his knees.

All but ripping anything that keeps his mouth from its goal. Spreading legs and holding them tight, so he can't wiggle free too escape how overwhelming it feels. Dick couldn't hold back if he wanted too.

And he really, really doesn't want too.

Tasting and swirling, sucking and fucking his tounge as deep as it'll go. Pinching and rubbing at that cute little clit. Sliding fingers DEEP to fuck and find and rub mercilessly against all his good spots.

If the apartment wasn't soundproofed, his neighbors would think he was murdering someone. Slowly.

He's so hard it hurts and can't bring himself to care. It's so GOOD to see Timmy sobbing on his tounge. Writhing on the fucking of his fingers, incoherently begging. The only thing that convinces him to STOP is when Tim's whines start sounding the wrong kind of desperate.

Fumbling blindly with a wet hand he jerks his sweats down and crawls up. Bends his sweet boy in half. He slides in so easy, after all the fingerfucking and orgasms. Timmy is so WET. Gushing.

It's perfect. He's perfect. Doesn't have to do a thing. Dick can lift him up easy, still impaled all precious and perfect on his cock, and carry him to the bedroom. Lay him down and work his cock in and out, sweet and gentle, of that poor over toyed with hole, until it becomes too much and he spills DEEP.

You just doze off, Tim. Let your big brother take care of clean up.

And so it goes~ Jason? Zombies. The jokes got old REAL fast. He blinks awake one step into Titans Tower. Changes plans. Catches his successor masterbating. Changes plans AGAIN. Since when was Tim-Tam capable of being horny? Who cares. It's been years by his view point and this is Hot.

He Dramatically Unmasks and pounds Tim through the mattress. Exits stage left, pursued by drugged up Half-Kryptonian.

Damian? About to die in the cold vacuum of space. Took the fight to them. Invade HIS planet, will you? Well uno reverse card mother fuckers. He's gonna invade YOU. ALARMING successfully too, they might add. That was their entire battle fleet.

WAS.

But, well, all men must die... etc etc. Death soliloquy. Or... you know... this stupid magical watch Jon insisted he bring. Meh. Might as wel- Click.

Mother Fucker. Jon was RIGHT. He must never be informed.

And... he forgot how Competently Sexy his Rival was. Shit. He was caught loo-! But Tim just? Grins? Says something about him finally "deciding to get along, huh"? W-what? What's happening. Why is he being pushed down onto a bench? Is this hazing?

Tim rides him dry. He may be a changed man. He can't feel his toes. What in the name of all that is small and fluffy is GOING ON!? Wasn't this supposed to be time travel? And of course, that's when he clocks the others acting Clearly Off.

The fuckers Be-Hornied his RIVAL! He's... something about that! He'll tell you when he can move again. Contemplated the virtues of matrimony with his long time Rival. But rest assured! There will be yelling!

-🐼

😍😍😍😍!!!! them all going back in time at different points and making their moves on tim, treating him nicer, more tender, not letting themselves be held back because they've denied themselves for so long and lost their tim already!!! bruce being the first followed by dick, jason, and damian who indulge and fuck tim and love him! and tim!!! loving his family so much and loving them in every way, letting them make their moves on him because this time around they love him and aren't afraid to show it!! all these versions of the bats who have lived through the loss of everything in an apocalypse and getting to live peaceful and happy lives with their tim!!!😍

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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ph0enix-12 · 2 months ago

Text

Ichorverse - Chapter 4

~ A pure soul’s loyalty ~

And here ends the prologue! We can finally start with the real story my darling, I can’t wait for the next chapters ^^. Be sure to read the other chapters as well and look out for the content warnings please

CW: (implied) slavery, (implied) harassment, sex scene (consensual and lightly described)

Words: 2920

<- Chapter 3 . Chapter 5 ->

He remembers that night clearly, like it was yesterday. Surely the stink of cigars, alcohol and sweat still sticks to his bones to this day.

He sometimes still felt the phantom touches of the nobles as they groped his thighs and arms, feeling his few muscles with greediness, like it was their right to do so, to feel him up as they wished, humoring themselves with something that wasn’t theirs to touch.

He tried to hide in the shadows of the ballroom, but those bastards always managed to find him, pulling on the piercings on his chest to get him to move where they wanted, laughing as he groaned in pain at the pull they inflicted on his chest. They pulled on him from couch to sofa, from chair to table like he was a pack animal. Ordering him to serve more and more drinks as they groped his back and chest, not even bothering to look at his face. Checking out his hips, who were left out of the thin pants he was forced to wear, even if the palace was freezing that night.

Well into the party, he managed to sneak away and hide in one of the dark corners of the room…and there he was.

Cross had not noticed the presence of someone else before stepping between The columns that lined the ballroom, a man wearing an intricate and ornate outfit along with jewelry that surely cost more than Cross himself.

He leaned against the wall, staring at the people on the dance floor as he sipped on what looked like some sort of golden liquid. He must have been the most glorious man Cross had ever seen, he shined, and yet he blended perfectly in the shadows.

Cross shuddered when the man turned his head to him. His eye glowed like bioluminescent algae found in the bottoms of the sea, and the very distinct golden scar along the side of his face was hard to overlook, it made his face look like a cracked pot put back together with some sort of golden glue.

“Sorry- didn’t know anyone else was here-” Cross backed away, planning on booking it to another hiding place. “Its alright.” The man turned the drink in his hand, making the fluid dance around the rim, “you can stay, you aren't bothering anyone”

There went his hiding plans. Cross awkwardly shuffled closer, leaning against the wall as well. “so…what are you hiding from?” He tried his hand at small talk, even if it was a weak attempt.

The man took a sip of his drink, “my family. They are being as overbearing as always.’ he turned his head, “what about you?”

Cross had to take a second before answering, too fixated on studying the man in front of him. It looked like he had stars for freckles. “Well uh- can i call nobles assholes or are you a noble as well?” He tried to joke, succeeding in making the guy chuckle, “you can call them assholes, I agree with you”

The slave chuckled too. “Then, I am hiding from asshole nobles.” The guy tilted his head, seeming interested now, “can I ask your name?”

“It's Cross,” he smiled. “Nice to meet you then, Cross. I am Nightmare.”

Ah Nightmare..like the god- oh shit like the god. Cross chuckled nervously, surprised by the sudden realization.

The two smiled awkwardly at each other before falling into silence, looking back at the party and enjoying the smooth music that played. “I can get us some good booze if we want, this party's boring anyway without alcohol” Nightmare said, out of the blue, turning his head to Cross.

“What do you say?”

The slave hesitated, not sure if the request had a double meaning or anything of the sort- what If it was some twisted trick to get him in trouble? But looking into the god's eye…he didn't see anything. Not a hidden malicious intent in sight, just an honest request.

Cross smiled a little, letting some of his nervousness fall, when else was he going to get the opportunity to live a little and feel a smidge of the freedom he used to have?

“I'll cover you” he winked, making Nightmare giggle under his breath.

The two slipped away from the ballroom, sneaking off to the kitchen to grab the booze that was stored in one of the cabinets, Nightmare had to take off his heels and hold them in his hands as the two snuck around the palace, quickly grabbing some extra pillows and blankets before climbing up the stairs of the tower, they didn't stop chuckling to themselves the entire time, save for when they needed to sneak behind a guard.

Cross looked around, astonished, in awe of the beautiful room that they reached at top of the stairs. It was a gorgeous chamber decorated with the most lavish furniture Cross had ever seen. The bed was closed by the curtains around the canopy and the glass door to the outside was shut off with silky curtains.

Nightmare threw the blankets and the pillows down on the carpet, beside a fireplace that looked to be never once lit before.

Cross walked to him, still looking around with interest. “Get comfortable, the couch is divine” they smiled at each other as they settled and popped the corc of the first bottle of rum they had taken, pouring two glasses hefty and offering them to one another.

“To us.” Nightmare smiled, “to us” Cross smiled back, holding up his glass toward the star. They drank and laughed, enjoying the entire rest of the night together.

After a long night of talking and laughing, they retreated to bed, still giggling under the blankets as they enjoyed the company.

It came natural to them to embrace each other, softly holding the other tight, like he was going to disappear. They didn’t talk anymore for a while, but they didn’t need to, the two simply embraced one another, caressing each other’s magical skin to feel close.

Soft touches soon turned into heated groping. They became breathless, hungry to feel the other even more. When they finally kissed, it was like a thousand nebulas exploded between them. Cross closed his eyes as they pushed against each other, his chains, their status, nothing mattered anymore.

They were starved for one another like two lovers reuniting after years apart.

The star was as soft as he looked, Cross’s hands easily slipped underneath ornate clothing, feeling the pristine flesh beneath his fingers as he caressed the stars and he just as easily wrapped his legs around the mortal, plush and soft thighs enveloped him and they gasped for air between heated kisses filled with passion.

It was the most serene night of Cross’s life. As they gasped softly the entire world around them stopped, there was nothing but that beautiful man beneath him that gently smiled at him with a sweetness the mortal had forgotten. Cross longed to treat him right, like the most precious jewel to ever exist in the world, kissing every part of him and watching as his stars glowed more with each breath he took.

After they made love, laying at each other’s side with their limbs still entangled and their hands still caressing the other, conversation came easily again, even if they had stayed up for almost the entire night. He was so easy to talk to, he listened intently to what the mortal had to say, adding his own opinions and views to his rambles.

Nightmare was a great listener, looking at the mortal with an amused smile on his face. Cross does not even remember what they talked about, but they went on and on until they fell asleep, satisfied and happy after a beautiful night together.

Cross needed to see him again. To be held in his arms again, to feel his cold body against his. After he got dragged back to the brothel, he couldn't stop thinking of him, the god that gave him the best night of his life.

He wanted him. In a way Cross could not fully articulate just yet

His deity. Nightmare. The galaxy that drew his eye to the sky each night, that made him forget all his pain. His sore bones felt relief when thinking of his cold hands touching them again. Cross wanted him.

It was like Cross was losing his mind when thinking of him.

Even after months his fleeting touches were still felt on his body, his sweet voice still rang in the mortals' mind and his eye still pierced his very soul. The kisses they shared still exploded on Cross's lips, like active nebulas.

He made him feel alive again..It was like the mortal had forgotten how to breathe before he came and now that he was gone, he was once again like a man lost at sea, the waves crashed against him so hard the air left his chest. His soul screamed for the star, begging the god to hold it, to save him from the terrors of the brothel where he was imprisoned.

Yet, each night passed, each terrible night he felt another piece of him corrode away into nothing. He taught the mortal how to breathe again, and now the parlor was trying to take what he had given him away. They wanted him to go back to being a shell…

The god filled his soul up with a warm and fuzzy feeling of love and protection..and now they wanted to take his thoughts of the star as well, twisting and corrupting that pleasant evening into something horrible. They were trying to make him out to be one of them, but Cross knew he never would be.

No, his voice was far too patient…his caresses far too polite to be like theirs, who only knew to call him names and pull at him.

He never pulled him, he guided Cross.

He never raised his voice, he never undermined him, he never said anything about the mortal's chest. The chest so many thought had the most revolting scars, he simply passed a hand on them. He was curious as he looked them over.

“Did you get these in a battle? Or in a fight maybe?” He had asked Cross as they laid in his bed, “no..” the mortal answered, uncertainly, “I never went to battle..” the star looked up at him, tilting his head to the side with that undying curiosity of his. “Why do you have these then?”

Cross could not answer him. He could not have bared a look of disgust from him. He could not tell him that he had gotten his breasts removed and his body changed...he could not tell him he wasn’t born a man.

And yet..now that the mortal dream of that night again, he wants to allude himself. Dreaming of the star, looking up at him with a kind smile and telling him how much it really didn’t matter, telling him it wasn’t true, telling him he was the most interesting man the god had ever met. Such dreams were a luxury, a luxury Cross could have not been able to afford..and yet, he was greedy.

He wanted those dreams to be true, he wanted it with all his soul.

He didn't know what prompted him to- but he looked around the parlor one night. Usually, he stared at a wall or the ceiling the entire night, waiting for it to be over…but when he looked around, he saw everyone else, hurting just as he was. Other workers, belittled and beaten as he was, enduring his same fate. Something woke up in Cross that night, just like it did when he met the beautiful god.

This wasn’t right, none of this was.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized sooner, it seemed so simple… yet he always thought he deserved what was happening- why did he think that?! Why was that something he believed?

Now, Cross couldn’t tell you, he didn’t know the answer.

Maybe he was trying to repay his sisters somehow…maybe he felt bad that for many years they had to work like this while he only ran errands in the brothel. He didn’t know.

It was easy to talk with other workers, his older sisters weren’t here anymore, and even if they didn’t even know each other's names, it was easy to bond. They started to plan, to dream of freedom. He and two others led the way and one night, they finally revolted.

Cross couldn’t tell why they hadn’t thought of this before, maybe it was because they never even talked before then, maybe because they were all scared. But the handlers weren’t as intimidating as they always saw them, when they were scrambling to get away.

He was a fury, he only felt this alive when he was with his god before, or when he was running in the market to run errands for the madam in his youth. None of these people deserved his mercy… were they even people? They caused so much hurt to others, why? Was it for money or for pleasure? He didn’t know which was worse of the two.

For so many years they had terrorized them, abused them. And now, they finally had revenge. But they weren’t like them…after a victory the handlers would have tortured their victims for weeks, while they only killed them. Maybe in that sense, they really were merciful.

The fresh air on his scarred bones felt divine, how long had it been since they took them out for a party?

Their chains fell to the ground, but their necks and wrists still bore the marks of them, those marks would never fade, they knew.

With time, their numbers grew, their strength solidified. They raided camps, they took down caravans and they freed more and more people each time.

In only two years, they grew to be feared, they grew to be an army. An army of ex-slaves sounded like a joke, and yet, there they were, standing strong against it all.

Somehow, Cross was voted as leader, as general. He commanded the entire army, led operations, trained teams of new recruits and helped the newbies to acclimate to their newfound freedom. The night terrors were atrocious when they came, and yet he still slept, hoping to see his god in his dreams one day.

The star never left his mind, not for one moment, even as he raided parlors and sliced head after head, his soul always called for him. Cross grew stronger and older, his once underfed and thin body grew thanks to an all new diet. He hunted for himself, he trained, he sang, he cooked, he lived finally. He did anything he wanted, when he wanted.

Many mercenaries joined them, but they surprisingly didn’t want money in exchange for supplies. They believed wholeheartedly in their goals of freedom.

Epic was one of them- one of those that stuck around a lot around the camp, even if he was away for long weeks, he always stayed more than the others.

They made so much noise, the nobles shook in fear when they heard news of their movements.

The army heard of how the king's council wanted to put a stop to them- but nothing ever stood against them, even when they met his soldiers in full uniform, the soldiers smiled their way in support, did the god order them to let them do as they pleased? No one seemed to miss the parlors- at least, decent people didn’t, so it was the only logical conclusion.

The star had silently given them his blessing to tear down the slave industry, even from afar, he stood with them. Did he know Cross was leading them? Did he even remember him? Did he miss him as much as Cross did?

The mortal could only wish for such things, he could only dream of seeing his star again one day. On a chilly, early spring morning, it was like his pleas had been answered. A messenger came and he brought a letter, a letter from the god himself.

Cross's hands trembled as he opened it eagerly, he could smell the perfume and the ink the god used on it. His soul wanted to jump out again, it wanted so badly to feel the letter, just to have some sort of resemblance of the god's presence.

His writing was pristine and nothing but polite and cordial, Cross wanted to press his face against the paper to inhale his perfume some more- but the general kept a stoic face as he read silently in front of the soldiers that came to see what was happening.

The letter politely greeted him, explaining how much noise their army made and almost congratulating them for it under the lines, the god almost sounded amused.

Cross wished he was amused.

His breathing stopped when he read the rest- the god was inviting him to the palace for a meeting, he would get to see him again. Finally, they had the full attention of a god, his deity finally called back for him. After three years- Cross finally had his gaze again, they had made it, this meeting offered so many possibilities! On his side, at his service, they would have had so much more influence and freedom- this was it. This meeting had to go perfectly.

~~~

Thank you for reading!! This was actually the first chapter I wrote at the start, but it felt more organic to introduce the others first. This may be my favorite illustration so far

Reblogging and reading the book on ao3 helps out a lot 💜

#ichorverse #chapter illustrations #chapter 4 #undertale au #undertale #nightmare sans #original art #character design #original character #crossmare #cross sans #bad sanses #ao3 fanfic #original fanfiction #story writing #original story

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lotties-ashwagandha · 1 year ago

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PATIENCE

kinktober day 4 — bondage — natalie x gn afab reader . I was high when i wrote this too oooops

why do i hate absolutely everything i write

The handcuffs clicked into place, and your breath hitched.

It was the first time she’d suggested it – you’d always thought about bondage, but Natalie had been the one to pull the trigger.

She wanted to start off with something light, something to ease you into it. She’d restrained just your hands for now, handcuffed you to the bedposts, and now she loomed above you, straddling your thighs. She looked down at you demeaningly, and you could see her desire stirring, plans of everything she wanted to do to you getting pieced together.

“You’re so perfect like this,” she said, one of her hands trailing down your chest as if she were admiring a work of art. “Exactly where you belong beneath me, all mine.”

You could feel your face grow warm, and she gave a slight smirk at your shyness. You tried to reach for her but your hands slammed against the restraints.

“Oh, baby,” she taunted, “I bet it’s so difficult for you, isn’t it? All tied up, just a little toy for me to use how I want.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. Natalie took advantage of your distraction, reaching over into the nightstand and retrieving something you couldn’t quite see.

After a moment you heard the steady hum of a vibrator and your breath hitched. She was relentless, always, and you knew her teasing would be even worse now that you had no line of defense. You were completely at her mercy, and it was glorious, perfect.

She started with your tits, running the vibrator along your chest and nipples. The vibrations coursing through your body drove you insane, wetness pooling between your bare thighs, a moan lodged in your throat. As she moved the vibrator down and replaced it with her lips on your chest you whined, desperate for her, your hips jerking.

“Fuck, baby, so needy,” she rasped, and before you could respond she pressed the vibrator against your clit. You cried out, arms jerking against the restraints and your inability to move only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You needed this, needed to give up control, needed everything she would give you at her mercy and at her own pace.

“Nat, please,” you whined, and she clicked the vibe to a higher setting, and you thought she was finally done with her teasing until she clicked it off completely. “Fuck,” you breathed, squirming, wishing a bit that you had your arms to help you. “I want your fingers, I need you to touch me.”

She slipped her hand between your legs and ran two fingers through your folds. You held your breath for a moment when she stopped at your clit, exhaling sharply when she began to rub tight circles.

“Keep going, fuck,” you moaned, hips jerking into her hand, and though it had only been a few minutes you were getting so close to release when she pulled her hand away.

She slipped her fingers into your mouth. You sucked gratefully, meeting her eyes, the taste of yourself on her fingers driving you wild.

“If you want to cum for me,” she said, “be fucking patient, baby. You’re mine now, and I’m going to keep going however long it takes for you to be sobbing and begging for me to let you cum.”

#natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year ago

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The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Four - Roadkill

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - A moody car ride and muddled emotions.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

9.9K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, drug dealing, allusions to mental illness, mentions of blood, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: I put my soul into this chapter like I just wanted everything to be right and for things to add up. Anyway, I'm so glad to finally share it as we reveal more about their story.

Masterlist

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Hawkins High - English Class, Sophomore Year

The clock ticked by tauntingly slowly, five minutes feeling like an eternity in the stale classroom flooded with white and beige, each desk meticulously placed in their respective rows, all uniform and not one out of line as each student occupied their own. A pop quiz rested in front of every anxious student, Mrs. O’Donnell being overly unfair in springing the assignment on everyone after only going over the unit one time in the span of fifteen minutes.

Only the sound of pencils gliding across paper and the ticking of the clock were evident among the prison-like room. Just outside of the window to your right was a perfect view of the large oak tree you’d claimed as your lunch spot. Though Steve had asked you to sit with him and his friends at lunch, you declined. The mere idea of having to face all of those preppy and popular kids was terrifying and you’d rather enjoy your lunch in solitude. Steve seemed like a promising friend the deeper you got into highschool but you’d settle for sitting with him in class if it meant you could avoid the jocks he hung out with.

Stomach grumbling, you only prayed that the next two class periods would go by faster than the first period had been dragging along. It was only a week into sophomore year and you were already counting the days until summer. You thought you’d be able to avoid Mrs. O’Donnell’s dreaded English class throughout all four years but sadly in only your second year you were cursed with her name on your schedule. Everyone knew her class was the one to dodge if at all possible.

Marking your answer to the last question on the quiz, you bashfully stood to set it on Mrs. O’Donnell’s desk, noting the way she glared at you before heading back to your desk as quietly as you could. There was no pleasing the woman, she was alway miserable. Being one of the shyest students in the class, she still made it known that not even you were safe from her wrath. Just as you reached into your bag to retrieve your copy of Of Mice & Men which was assigned at the very beginning of the week, the classroom door swung open, the hinges squeaking in protest.

“Oh, Mrs. O’Donnell!” A boy’s voice sang as he sauntered through the door, skateboard in hand and backpack in rough condition barely hanging onto his lanky shoulder. It was the same boy from the ice cream social, he was wearing pretty much the same thing, black jeans with noticeable rips and a matching t-shirt with ‘Iron Maiden’ on the front. The chain hanging from his jeans clinked as he walked and his tousled brunette curls swayed with the movement. Eddie, as you recall. His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he came to a stop in front of the teacher’s desk, her face displaying a different kind of disdain for the boy in front of her, his dimples still framing his smile regardless.

“Munson, it is not polite to interrupt my class. Where are your manners?” The older woman seemed to gain more wrinkles just by engaging with him.

“Actually, that’s why I’m here. You get to experience another glorious year with yours truly.” He had no fear, he was dripping confidence and from the looks of it he didn’t care if Mrs. O’Donnell wasn’t having it. You were suddenly envious of his charisma, only wishing you could absorb some of the self-assurance he was possessing in the few seconds he had walked in the door.

“I’ll be the judge of that, you’re not on my roster.” O’Donnell suddenly stands, her gaze would intimidate you but Eddie only sighed and ran a hand through his hair as if this wasn’t his first rodeo with her.

“I swear, the office sent me here directly. Call them.” Before she could scold him, he had made his way toward the back of the room, tossing his backpack on the ground next to the empty desk just behind you and slumping into the chair while crossing his arms. So it seemed he was in your grade. Every other guy your age was still struggling with voice cracks and puberty mustaches but he seemed to have a grasp on things and was more mature looking than them. Or maybe he was in another grade and just in a sophomore English class. Whatever the case, he sat right behind you and it made you nervous, the kind of nervousness that makes you question if you tried hard enough on your appearance, wishing you would’ve taken more care in the mirror that morning.

Who were you kidding? Boys didn’t even look your way so what made this one any different? He wasn’t. You were just riling yourself up again only to let yourself down by setting unrealistic expectations. And all within a few seconds, that dream was discarded and you came back to reality.

Only for some reason you dared to sneak a glance over your shoulder at him. Where that sudden bravery came from, you’d never know. But you’d never forget the way his eyelashes casted perfect shadows along his cheeks even in the annoyingly fluorescent lighting of the classroom and the way a dimple peeked out at you as he offered a boyish close mouthed smile, by far the most charming smile you’d ever seen. It happened so quickly you started to question if you were daydreaming.

—

Present Day

There are a lot of things to focus on in Eddie’s van. The big gulp cup in his cup holder filled a third of the way with change, food wrappers littering the floor which he must have shoved away to make room, a few cassettes among the trash—who used cassettes anymore? There was a car parts catalog on the dashboard, a pair of headphones on top, and next to it a small box of unopened guitar strings. Among the many things happening visually in the van, it was all very Eddie from what you currently knew about him against your will. Even the lingering smells screamed his name, the hint of cigarettes, a little bit of the pine air freshener dangling from the mirror, a tinge of skunk-like bitterness, and the spice from his cologne.

It was silent, not even the radio he famously blared at high volumes playing, only the sound of the engine rumbling. You didn’t dare look to your left at him, embarrassment seeping through your pores from earlier. There was no way you would talk about being that vulnerable in front of Eddie Munson out of all people. Hell, you weren’t even sure why you were riding in the passenger seat of his van and had you been coherent enough when he guided you to sit, you would’ve refused and walked home, paying no mind that it would’ve taken around thirty minutes. Now you were stuck in one of the most uncomfortable positions of your life, riding shotgun in your nemesis’ car and on shaky ground with your best friends. The more you thought about it, Steve couldn’t even look at you when you’d asked if Robin knew about his sneaky endeavors. It was as though you were subject to isolation with no reparations in the foreseeable future.

“Pull over.” You were surprised by how strong your voice had sounded despite how much you’d been crying before.

A glance your way was all you received as you watched him in your peripheral. Why was it that the most common occurrence tonight was to be unresponsive?

“Pull over.” You repeated a bit louder.

Still, he ignored you.

“Pull over or I’m going to jump out.”

The threat was lost on him, earning you no reaction however you took him by surprise when you reached for the handle, pulling and cracking the door open as the pavement beneath zoomed past and the wind sucked the breath out of your lungs, the crisp fall air felt like a punch to the face in contrast to the warm cabin of the van.

“What the fuck!? Do you have a death wish or something!?” Eddie kept a hand on the wheel while simultaneously stretching his arm across you as he reached for the handle to pull it closed but failing in his first attempt. “Shut the damn door!” Unsure of what you were trying to gain from this, you tugged the door toward you with a scoff, Eddie shifting his eyes between you and the road. What would be your next move? You hurl yourself out of a moving van and end up roadkill? It wasn’t a very well thought out plan.

“Just pull over.” You couldn’t stand being trapped within the confines of his van much longer.

Everyone and everything you knew was turning out to be a lie, straight to your face and the pressure was only building up inside. And it all boiled down to one person who happened to be sitting just to your left. “Dammit! Just pull over! I wanna walk!” You shifted, now turned toward him, his brows furrowed and his lips downturned, complete displeasure written on his face.

“Would you quit being such a fucking brat!?” There he was. This is the Eddie you knew of, a complete contrast to the one that had emerged earlier. He was unrecognizable as he played the part of the neutral party between you and Steve. And he had no right either, you would be sure he knew that.

“Then fucking pull over!”

“We’re almost there, then you can do whatever the hell you want. See if I give a shit.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, a pinky tapping against it as he seemed to try and keep himself calm.

“You don’t even know where I live. Let me out. Right here, pull over.” It was a constant battle, neither of you having the slightest urge to just give it up although it looked like you were going to win when the brakes screeched, the van halting to a stop in the middle of the road. You were at a bend with nothing but forest on either side so you could either step out with your pride, also bearing the possibility of becoming a news headline in the morning: ‘Girl found dead on side of the road’, or you could let him win this one and make it home in one piece.

“Go on then. You wanted to walk? Have at it.” Eddie gestures to the open road, very clearly unwalkable from this point. You remained silent, contemplating your options. “What? I give you what you want and it's still not enough?” He huffs in annoyance, head shaking.

“You did that on purpose.” You mumble, barely audible but he catches it anyway.

“Did what? Drive you home so you wouldn’t strangle Harrington?” He was very clearly trying to push your buttons and he was going to end up being the one strangled if he kept it up.

“You know what?” The sound of your seatbelt clicking alerted him that you were about to hop out, your hand reaching for the door. “You want me to be roadkill so bad? Fine.” And with that you stepped out into the crisp fall air, a light sprinkling of rain painting your skin as you stomped down the road.

The van’s engine didn’t rumble which told you he hadn’t sped off yet, most likely watching in victory as you began your trek home. The frigid air started to bite at your skin, your cheeks and nose beginning to hurt and lose feeling. You didn’t get very far when you began to regret leaving the warmth of the van, you just had to pick this battle and now it seemed you lost in the end anyway.

It still hadn’t zoomed past you like you envisioned, only the sound of someone running behind you was heard which in all honesty only freaked you out even more. This was the worst case scenario for how the night was supposed to end. Maybe some serial killer had gotten Eddie and now you were their next victim. A new headline flashed in your brain, something along the lines of ‘Young couple found murdered near the woods in Hawkins, Indiana’ and you nearly puked as you began sprinting, the downpour of rain becoming heavier as you did. Lungs on fire, you forced yourself to keep going no matter how ridiculous the thoughts racing through your mind were. Maybe it was the quickest way to get home after all, to imagine you were being hunted for sport the whole time. The nightmare you conjured up quickly came to an end when you slammed into something firm, almost being knocked to the ground only to be stabilized by two hands gripping your arms. Your eyes were shut tight, avoiding whatever fate was awaiting you. Were you being dramatic? Yes, however it couldn’t be helped especially being just next to the woods in nearly pitch black. The basis for a classic horror film.

“Are you crazy!? Get back in the van! You’re gonna get killed out here, you can’t see shit.” Much to your relief just this once, you were happy to open your eyes and find Eddie, out of breath with his curls dripping, a few sticking to his face.

His eyes were more doe like than ever, staring down at you, the headlights from the van barely reaching the two of you allowing you to make out his features. His stare flickered between you and the road urgently. “If a car comes around the corner we’re fucked, LETS GO!” If he had any remaining patience, it was gone because suddenly his arms wrapped around your legs and waist, throwing you over his shoulder without struggle, jogging back to the van as you were left breathless. Ending up tossed over Eddie Munson’s shoulder was the last possible outcome you’d imagined tonight and yet here you were.

“Put me down!” You still protested, delivering a firm smack to his shoulder blade. If he obeyed, you had no plan so you weren’t sure what your motive was here however he continued on without so much as a flinch.

“Oh yeah, look what happened the last time I listened to you. Had to fuckin’ chase you down.” The passenger door was left open from when you took off as you glanced over Eddie’s shoulder.

“You didn’t have to! I could’ve made it home perfectly fine!” You weren’t one hundred percent sure about that but you could sell the lie. In your defense, he took a completely different route than what you had originally walked earlier in the day since you had to stop by the Byers’.

Suddenly you were placed in the passenger seat again, and not very gently either. Eddie’s intense gaze only egged you on, returning the favor as you looked up at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Yeah? You sure about that Roadkill?”

You’d had it and there was very little if any fight left in you. Teeth chattering and hair wet, you came to the realization that your clothes were almost completely soaked and before you could huddle in on yourself for warmth, a leather jacket was tossed at you before the passenger door was slammed shut, Eddie quickly returning to the driver’s side, a displeased expression remaining on his features as he shifted into drive.

–

Rain dotted the windshield and other than that and the squeaking of the wipers against the glass, it had been silent. Five minutes had passed but it was easy to mistake it for five hours with how tense the air in the van was. Eddie released a heavy and dramatic breath every so often and if he was searching for a reaction in you, you weren’t interested in partaking. Home wasn’t far, you only needed to endure a couple more minutes in the stuffy but thankfully, warm confines of the vehicle.

Maybe you were delirious, your brain muddled in the events of tonight because Eddie had finally been silent that full five minutes and you stupidly took it upon yourself to engage in further conversation.

“Roadkill? Really?”

The green traffic lights overhead created a glow around him, painting him almost like a picture, a renaissance painting you might even say. If a renaissance painting could include a grumpy metalhead adorned in rings, tattoos, and a demonic t-shirt. So no, not a renaissance painting and yet, you couldn’t find another way to phrase it in your mind. Why?

“Roadkill. That’s all you have to say?” Offense lingered in his tone, his eyes glancing to you briefly.

Your body turned toward the door, even more than it already had been as you watched the scenery race by, deciding to go mute again. There was no civil conversation with him, only snarky comments and full blown arguments.

“Better than Socks.” A smirk graces his lips when you turn to look back over at him and there was no way to tell if it was playful or cynical.

Should you bite and comment back or should you remain ignorant? You’d started it after all. This time he wasn’t the one breaking silence to torture you, it was the other way around and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why you yearned to instigate.

“I will not be called ‘Roadkill’ if that’s what you’re getting at.” It was said cruelly however just beneath the surface, if he was intelligent enough to pull at the corners of your gaze with his, he may find a seed planted deep within your depths.

Could it have been that the way he stepped in earlier was in some regard an olive branch? Extended with the means to mend what was previously shattered beyond repair, an intention. No. It couldn’t be, not even in the slightest. Because he was Eddie and you were you, this is how your stories were written and engraved into the margins of the universe. That didn’t mean you didn’t wonder why he had been so tangled up in the ball of yarn that was your life for so long if not to infinitely cause an ache from wounds slashed into your soul years ago.

“I think you’ve definitely been upgraded from Socks to Roadkill.” Though he was snarky there was a glimmer in his eyes.

“Hell no. If I’m Roadkill then what are you?” Arms crossed, you shifted to turn your body further toward him, brow raised in expectancy.

“I don’t do nicknames.” It was a short and simple answer and it simply wouldn’t do.

“You can’t just go by Munson, you need some kind of…some kind of earned name for some dumb shit you would do—or have done!” You snap your fingers at him, a smile playing at your lips and he swears he hasn’t seen that kind of smile directed his way in years. It’s enough to bring a flush of pink to his cheeks that he hopes is hidden by the darkness and won’t become evident under the street lights passing by.

“What, like running into the open road in the pitch black during the rain—at a bend in the road, might I add?”

“Well…don’t—don’t even pretend I’ve done even half of the dumb shit you’ve done!” That smile still pulls at your lips uncontrollably and he’s not sure if you’ve given up trying to hold it back or if you’re so beyond tired and delusional that you’ve forgotten who you were talking to. Either way this moment would be burned into his memory, even if it would be the last time you’d offer him the upturn of your lips, even if you were sleep deprived and not in your right mind.

You continue to ramble, searching your brain as he admires to the best of his ability while driving, eyes drifting from you to the road and back. “Like—like the raccoon thing! Yeah you’re Racoon Boy!”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Really? Racoon Boy? That’s the best you can come up with? Doesn’t really roll off the tongue like Roadkill.”

His criticism earned a glare from you but not the kind of glare he was so used to receiving from you. This one held some kind of spark if he lingered long enough, large eyes beaming at you if you cared to notice.

“Okay well, a raccoon becomes Roadkill, right?. If I’m Roadkill, you’re Roadkill.” You decide.

Eddie doesn’t know why he has butterflies, all he knows is that the way you incorporated him into the phrase is making his palms sweat, just like when he was sixteen. And the fact that you had even put his jacket on was something he never imagined in his wildest dreams. Nevertheless, he keeps his cool.

“And you think I’m gonna stand for being called Roadkill? You’re out of your mind. Try again.” His head shakes in disapproval.

“Oh please, would you rather be called Liar?” Just like that everything reverted back to the way it was, as it intended to be.

“Or Friend Fucker?”

He knew it was too good to be true, the way your eyes crinkled as you grinned just seconds ago, how you teetered on the brink of giggling as you attempted to conjure up a nickname for him, the sole fact that you were even trying to give him a nickname. It was all a facade put on to deliver a blow of karma that he rightfully deserved and though it may not have been a facade on your part, he knew somehow the puppet strings controlled by the universe created this moment to torture him. The air turned eerie, sour almost.

Disgusting.

He felt disgusting.

Because you didn’t know how wrong you were about him and yet he kept further providing reasons for you to keep believing it.

Suddenly he’s seventeen in the stairwell of the Harrington’s basement regretting every move made that night. And you were sixteen trying to make sense of it all, asking yourself, why?

And now you were still begging the question, why? Why did Steve have to ruin everything? Why was Eddie still causing destruction even now? After all, he played just as big of a part when you’d seen them both leaving the van, so why did you offer him the courtesy of bestowing a nickname upon him as if you were old friends? As if he hadn’t taken your heart, played with it, made it beat for him all those years ago only to take a dagger to it and leave you bleeding and devoid of the ability to beat for anyone else.

Your apartment came into view, an escape from the toxic atmosphere that you’d tricked yourself into breathing in, under the illusion of sleep deprivation and wounded feelings. This wasn’t some redemption arc for Eddie as you’d begun to imagine in your deliriousness, this was you caving in at a moment of fragility and venturing to the nearest soul in hopes to cling onto some of your sanity. But what you failed to realize in your misconception was that there was not one soul to sympathize with in your agony. As the van came to a stop, you dared to glance over once more. His eyes looked almost black, the absence of sunlight keeping every brown hue hidden in the shadows which only further fed into the idea that he was cold and heartless. And as you exhaled a final time into the void created between two opposing forces, you were hoping that would be the end of it, that he wouldn’t do as he normally did and fabricate a reason to fuel a never ending war. But then again you never had faith in him in the first place.

“I’ve told you. I’m not a liar.” His nostrils flared, ringed hand tightly gripping the steering wheel once again.

“You’re not a liar?”

“Did I stutter?”

“What do you call it then when someone withholds the truth from you? You’re saying that doesn’t make them a liar?”

Your name was muttered under his breath as if it were a curse. “Dammit! When will you just let it go!?” His face contorted in anger, brows furrowed in misery. “Why do you have to fucking hold on to this thing that happened ages ago!? I never once lied to you and you keep trying to throw it back in my face!”

“Never once lied to me, right.” You laughed, however there was no humor behind it.

“Do you know how many times we’ve had this argument? Do you ever think maybe I keep fighting back because you’re wrong?”

“Oh, I’m wrong!? Was I wrong when I caught you and Steve just now in the parking lot? Was I wrong about that too? Was it my imagination when you planted one on Steve? At least I’m not a fucking liar!” Tears welled up in your eyes and you’d never forgive yourself for it but it was inevitable, the anger demanded to be poured from your eyes.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it, I have never once lied to you.” He sucked back his lip as if trying to hold himself back, fist now clenched in his lap.

“Another lie!” You tried to stop them, oh how you tried but the tears began to trail down your cheeks one by one, sucking them back only did so much due to the overflow already gracing your waterline.

Eddie debated digging up the old box in his heart that he locked up and swore off forever, promising to never let another soul touch it. But he was Eddie and he didn’t know how to let others open him up, only knew how to push everything deeper until it was forgotten about and collecting dust. All he could do was what he did best. Shut down and push back. He regretted inheriting even a sliver of the temper his father held.

“Get out.” The demand was met with your wet eyes burning into him as he faced forward, gaze set straight ahead with no sign of meeting yours. His jaw clenched, you could see him swallow. Before you could offer any further comments, he caught you off guard. “Get out. Get the hell out.” His arm was suddenly reaching over you to open the door, his damp curls tickling your cheek briefly until he was scowling at you from the driver’s side once again. You remained sitting, not because you wanted to but because your brain simply refused to cooperate, leaving you staring dumbly at the floor of his van. “Well, I’m not lying this time am I!? Get out!”

The way his voice raised made you wince and you had that gnawing feeling settling in your stomach and your chest. Hands trembling, that random pang of anxiety began to take over and you wanted so badly to run and find some sense of comfort in your little apartment just upstairs but you were frozen. The energy of the confrontation just endured shocked your nervous system and though you’d argued with Eddie before many times, it had to have been the build up throughout the night, the betrayal you’d experienced only adding that much more strain. Everything was spiraling and it was as though a weight too heavy for anyone to carry was placed on your shoulders. And you were left to bear it alone.

Eddie stared expectantly, brow raised though he couldn’t catch your line of sight even if he tried, you were too in your head by this point and it seemed that the contents of the trashed floor was far more interesting however he was able to lower his head to catch the trace of fear—or maybe it wasn’t fear maybe it was loneliness topped off with uneasiness—either way he was able to detect it among your features and the way you were absent from the van, your mouth ajar and hands shaking in fists balled up at your sides. Maybe he’d gone too far? Or at least that was his initial conclusion but it didn’t make much sense seeing as you’d mouthed off to each other several times before and you’d both said things far worse. Whatever the case, he knew he’d be laying on his lumpy mattress tonight wondering what he could’ve done differently.

“Shit.” He mumbles while putting the van in park, undoing his seatbelt and inching the slightest bit closer to you. “You still with me?” It came out shakier than he’d intended, not really having the knowledge of what to do. Sure he knew what he’d need to do for himself for the most part if it were him but comforting others was not something he specialized in. Was it even comfort you needed? He didn’t know, but there was something wrong and your body language was telling him that you were stuck in some kind of a panic.

But before he could even make a decision on how to proceed, you’d snapped out of it right before his eyes, a wobbly breath escaping you before your eyes darted up to his wide ones. He was too close for your liking, and far too close for someone who had just yelled at you to get the hell out. It was frigid, the air from outside stinging your cheeks as the door remained open. In the blink of an eye you were gone, your feet carrying you up the cement stairs of the complex and away from him, his jacket still engulfing your frame, sleeves falling over your hands and slapping against your legs as you scurried. You hadn’t bothered to shut the door in your quick departure, raindrops finding their way onto the fabric of the seat and covering the interior. At the top of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of you momentarily with your head in your hands before you rounded the corner and disappeared. If he never saw his jacket again because it provided you with warmth, well he figured that would be just fine.

“If I’m Roadkill, you’re Roadkill.” He muttered with his eyes glued to the ceiling.

—

The Harrington House, December of Junior Year

“Munson, did you bring the stuff?”

“Yeah, what’re you looking to buy?”

“What? You brought everything?”

“Just about, what’s your poison?”

Eddie rummaged through the little black metal box full of various substances, naming each one aloud to the jock that had spotted him across the living room, the music bumping as he shouted over it. Was his name Ben? Brady? Eddie couldn’t recall and if he’s honest, he didn’t really care. The only time the guy acknowledged his existence was to buy from him at whatever party they happened to be at. This time it was Steve Harrington’s ugly Christmas sweater party, the second one in the making of an annual event. Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those nasty sweaters with bells and tinsel but he certainly had no problem with making money off of the spoiled rich kids who would pay out the ass to pop a pill and let loose for the night. And so he found himself lingering in the dark corner of the living room, awaiting those who would recognize him, giving them their fix in exchange for a fat stack of cash. They seemed pathetic in his eyes, all decorated in their multi patterned sweaters with all kinds of crap dangling off of them, fiending for a high as they kept their interaction with him as minimal as possible. It wasn’t his business though, his business was to sell and collect until his supply ran out and if he thought hard enough about it, both parties were doing the same song and dance of quick exchanges with not a smidge of regard for the other’s presence once the deal was done. That’s just how it was and he wasn’t going to complain so long as he got paid.

So he sold Ben–whatever his name was, a few grams of weed and some ecstasy. That guy would forget Eddie’s existence until the next party. That or until he wanted to buy some more weed from him at school. The guy was relatively mellow with Eddie when alone but once other senior jocks were in the equation they threw every name in the book at him and tried to make his life hell. Key word, tried. Eddie was tough and a few names were nothing, hell even the few times he’d been jumped by them in the school parking lot didn’t phase him. You learn to pick your battles when your dad is the antagonist of your life. That didn’t mean he didn’t lash out every now and then at them, cause he did. He just knew which fights were worth a black eye and bloody knuckles and which ones to surrender on, let them shove him around a little bit, maybe take a kick to the ribs and then move on. The less he struggled against them, the quicker they would get bored and call him a slur before marching off with their chests puffed out.

It was only nine, the night was still young and he had already made enough to sneak a good amount into his Uncle Wayne’s wallet with enough leftover to pay for the week’s groceries. He’d sooner just put the money into his own bank account and transfer it to Wayne’s but his old man was old fashioned and stuck mainly to cash. That cash would usually go toward utilities if Eddie already handled the groceries. By the end of the night he should have made enough of a profit to buy that new part for the van he was fixing up. He’d made a deal with the guy at the junkyard that if he could get it working and get it the hell off his lot that it was his. Sure it was an older model, a little rusty with a funky smell clinging to the interior but he could make anything work and he’d rather drive that than keep borrowing his uncle's pickup truck or hitch a ride with someone. It just wasn’t reliable and he had his own agenda though he’d never tell Wayne exactly what that agenda was. As far as he knew, Eddie was working odd jobs around town, repairing the neighbor’s sink, mowing lawns, fixing cars. It wasn’t a lie–it was just that according to Wayne it generated a suspiciously large income. Eddie always insisted his charm was a contributing factor and the moms up in the fancy neighborhoods would pay him extra for being ‘so sweet’. Which wasn’t a lie either. Those moms knew of his reputation but were reaching the point of their mid-life crisis and it seemed they were willing to do anything for a smidge of excitement while their boring husbands left for a business trip every other week. He never entertained them past telling them how wonderful they looked. But he would never admit outright to his uncle that he had been in contact with Rick who his dad had been involved with before going to prison. Now it seemed at only seventeen he was following the same path however it was to keep food on the table and the strain of all of the financials off of Wayne’s aching back. ‘This is different.’ He’d keep telling himself that but sometimes he’d look in the mirror and his father would be staring right back at him.

Becoming bored with the clientele of the living room corner, he made the decision to migrate to the hall just near the basement door. There was heavy foot traffic and a possibility that he could sell out the rest of his supply in minutes to those desperate enough for a good time. Leaning against the wall, he heard shouts from the basement, a beer pong game with high stakes no doubt. A younger kid, most definitely a freshman shuffled by with six unopened beers clinking together in his arms and without drawing any attention to himself, Eddie snatched the one that was just seconds away from toppling over onto the floor. It went unnoticed as the freshman continued down the hall toward the back door, a satisfying crisp snap filling his ears as he opened the stolen beer. As the fizzy ale met his lips, he was grateful it was cold with condensation collecting on the glass since the house was stuffy and hot despite the contrasting weather outside.

In about ten minutes he’d sold almost everything, people were drawn to him like a moth to flame, knowing he was the go to for anything good. It always sucked trying to get rid of the last of it, which made the night even longer since he just wanted to be done and leave. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck and a dip in the Harrington’s pool seemed like heaven right about now even in the freezing cold snow. He was just about ready to give up and head down to the basement to start marketing his product to the rowdy football boys so he could get out of the muggy hallway when he caught someone’s gaze from the opposite end of the hall. The only person he really hoped to see at this dumb party and he was intuitive enough to know that she would show up due to her friendship with King Steve. Before he knew it she was making her way toward him, dodging other teenagers.

You kept your eyes on him throughout the several people in the way, reaching him being your only goal for the moment while Nancy and Robin–the new girl with the pretty blue eyes and freckles–rolled their eyes at your gawking and patiently waited while you wandered away. It was loud but you tuned out everything as you took in his curls, longer than they were last year when you’d first noticed him. He still seemed to be growing it out, brunette locks now covering his ears and a few hanging in his eyes as he bowed his head but still kept his focus on you. You’d seen him just last week at school but you were only now noticing the progress on his hair growth, usually too enamored in his molasses pools of eyes. He wore his standard getup, a black leather jacket, black jeans with a few holes, and some black boots. Maybe it was the single shot you’d taken with Nancy and Robin back in the kitchen but he was looking especially handsome and you feared your heart was going to leap out of your chest right in front of him.

“Thought you swore off parties.” You shouted over the bass vibrating the house.

Shaking the little metal box he held at you, you understood that he was ‘working’.

“Parties are my biggest sellers so I couldn’t really keep my word on that one.”

“Fair enough.” You leaned your shoulder against the same wall he leaned his back on, turned toward him with all of your attention solely on him right now.

“Was just about to get outta here though. I got roughly enough for one last sale, just need to find someone to bite.” Taking a swig of his beer, he glanced around for any takers but still found no success.

“Well, what do you have?” Your innocent eyes stared up at him, your ridiculous Christmas sweater being the only one he actually liked out of the hundreds he had seen that night.

“I don’t sell to children.” He teases. You were only a year younger after all.

“I am not a child! You’re a year older, c’mon! What do you have?” You whined, bouncing on your toes.

“No way, sweetheart. I have the right to refuse service and I’m refusing yours.” A smirk graced his lips as he turned his body toward you, mirroring your stance as you each leaned a shoulder against the wall.

“Munson-”

“Nope, closed for business.” Tucking the little metal box under his leather jacket as if to hide it from your view, you playfully shoved at his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll just have to get my weed from some other sketchy guy.” You sighed dramatically.

“Whoa whoa, are you calling me sketchy? I’ll have you know I am probably the least sketchy drug dealer you could hope for.” He showed fake offense in the knitting of his brows and a hand thrown over his chest.

“I dunno, that sounds like something a sketchy drug dealer would say.”

His eyes squinted at you in thought and he was definitely not going to sell you drugs however he could extend you an offer.

“How about…I keep a joint with your name on it on supply and you come get me when you wanna smoke?”

Before you were able to answer, a group of jocks came tumbling into the hallway, one of them bumping into you particularly hard in his drunken state. Eddie had already intervened before you could tell him that it was okay and that you were sure it was an accident.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

His hand shoved the muscular guy back with no problem and had that guy not been completely wasted, a fight would’ve broken out but it seemed he couldn't register what was going on as he began roughhousing with one of his friends once again, thankfully making their way into the basement.

“I-uh-how–how much?” You stuttered, ignoring the interruption.

His plush lips tightened before his tongue darted out, one of his nervous habits.

“Share it with me and we’ll call it good.” Your heart fluttered, face heating.

It was flirting. It was in your face, outright, one hundred percent flirting and yet you couldn’t let yourself believe it. He was just being friendly. Because boys didn’t like you like that, they never have and they probably never will. Especially the one in front of you who everyone warned you against associating yourself with. It never stopped you from talking with him in the classes you shared or waving to him in the halls, him always returning the favor. Your experiences clearly indicated that he wasn’t always rough around the edges like everyone said, he was actually a sweetheart with a lot of nerdy tendencies. At least that's what you learned from your shared time at school. There were select occasions outside of school such as previous parties where he’d sell that you would approach him with a shy smile and he would be as charming as always. And there were times where he led you to think that maybe, just maybe he liked you as much as you liked him. But you’d never act on it, having never even had a boyfriend before so what experience was there to guide you? He was one of the only boys to offer you that kind of attention but it was never expected of you to cross a boundary and he let you take the lead, accounting for your bashfulness and fully realizing that he couldn’t just hook up with you and leave it at that. Because there was something else there and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was.

“Well, I have to pay. Seriously, how much?”

His arm was braced against the wall as he leaned toward you, breath fanning over your cheek, you didn’t even mind the smell of beer filling your nose.

“Your money’s no good here.” His dimples had you hypnotized.

“That’s not fair.” You breathed, your eyes sparkling while looking up at him.

“No?”

“No.”

“Alright Munson, quit hitting on my friend. You got any weed left or are you done here?”

Steve Harrington was going to get a mouthful from you later.

–

Present Day

You’d never existed in that van if anyone were to ask, not that they would. It had been the shittiest night you’d experienced in a good while. The worst part of it all was that you couldn’t even call Robin or Steve to rant to them about how shitty of a night it was because they were part of the reason. Loneliness was the most debilitating illness and it was conquering you from the inside out. Sure you could probably confide in Jonathan but your brain was screaming at you to suffer alone. No one else needed to be bothered by your whining when they had their own lives to live. This was now between you and yourself.

Living in a small town had never been such an issue. Working in the same coffee shop as your best friends as well as your biggest enemy was proving to be a stupid idea but you were in no position to change jobs, not when you could barely make rent and no other jobs would have the flexibility to keep you around with your class schedule. Plus no one was even hiring, they’d already secured their seasonal hires. So back to the drawing board you went. No more arriving at work early, minimizing the chance of interaction with Steve and Robin and keeping to yourself your entire shift as a means to tune Eddie out no matter how hard he would try and press your buttons. It was going to be hell but what other option did you have at this point in time? There was always the choice to drop out of college but then that’d be a waste of a scholarship you’d received based on your low income in combination with a well written essay your senior year. Senior year you would punch you in the face if you dropped out all because of the poorly thought out actions of others. All that hard work down the drain for a couple of dumbasses? Absolutely not.

No. You were not going to alter your life just because of them. Although it felt you were being somewhat dramatic, you weren’t going to let this go. It was as if they’d isolated you and laughed about it behind your back. Left you in the dark and giggled to each other about how pathetic you were. No one should ever have to endure this pain, especially not at the hands of the people who you’d thought mattered to you most but seemingly proved that they were just like everyone else. You figured you still had the kids but then quickly remembered whose house they mainly hung out at and it left you defeated. At least you could always stop in at the Byers, that much you knew. Even so, you didn’t want to bother them with the sudden friendship politics, it seemed childish on your part and Will definitely didn’t need to hear you complain about the other two people he looked up to. That was not a road you were willing to go down, he’d had enough of seeing adults bicker to last several lifetimes and you already vowed to shield him from any more of it.

That night was honestly even more awful the second your back hit your shitty mattress. Sobs racked your body and it was nearly enough to make you throw up. Nearly. You held it down but still dry heaved, curled up in a ball like a loser while everyone else seemed fine. The cherry on top was the way Eddie clawed at old wounds, your guts may as well have left a bloody trail from the street where he dropped you off all the way up the stairs to your apartment. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the fact that he yelled at you to get out of his van that was inducing the vomit rising in the back of your throat. It certainly contributed but what brought the taste of bile to your tongue was the way that you’d bantered for a split second just like in high school—when there was a chance. When you were naive and sadly mistaken. A love sick puppy for a boy who had only misled you and mistreated you. You suppose some of the blame could’ve been on you, letting yourself fall harder and harder each time you’d seen his contagious smile in the halls and in class. You know how they say some people peak in high school? Well you could say that you hit rock bottom which to be honest, felt far more embarrassing than peaking. All because of a stupid boy.

Was this really what you’d become? A sorry excuse of a woman muffling sobs into your pillow over some mistakenly split open feelings for a boy—now a man still taunting your everyday life? Why did he have this power over you all of the sudden? For the past few years you had felt nothing but disgust for him and now it felt like you were dealing with the heartbreak all over again, as if that night happened just hours ago.

And Steve had practically spit on the heartbreak that he’d witnessed before his eyes. That he’d helped nurse you through, drying your tears with countless tissues, lending his shoulder to cry on. That version of him was flushed down the drain the minute he stepped out of that damn van. Where you used to see kind and caring brown eyes with that sympathetic wrinkle in the middle of his eyebrows, you now saw betrayal in human form.

—

The smudged mirror of the public bathroom in Hawkins Community did little to enhance any beauty you may have held at some point. It only added to your dark under eyes, hues of purple beneath the skin along with a puffy redness from non stop crying. To sum it up, you looked swollen and you were sorry to anyone that had to witness the sight. The cool water you splashed on your face from the sputtering faucet didn’t do as much as the internet said it would. If anything you only looked worse but now your nerves were shocked from the temperature change. You had to get over yourself eventually, just suck it up and go to work.

With one last wipe of a gritty paper towel, your nose raw from constantly wiping snot away, you gave up the pity party and forced yourself out of the depressing, poorly lit bathroom. A push of the germy door with your shoulder has you moving on to brave the rest of the day—the hard part of the day. The part that you’d dreaded and played out in your mind like a projector on a screen. Every scenario laid out before you like a deck of cards and so unsure of which one would become your fate.

The sky looked an eerie gray, more rain expected to accompany that morning's light drizzle, casting the hallways in a darker light than they usually led on. It was beyond you that you kept leaving your umbrella at home when rain was almost always on the forecast these days. You suppose the sky reflected your mood and that was fair enough.

Stepping outside as the metal door slammed shut behind you, your skin erupted in goosebumps, wind swirling in your hair as mother nature declared its fury in thunderous echoes in the sky. It was only a fifteen minute walk, just endure the unusually strong winds and keep on, that’s what you told yourself. Things can’t get any shittier, they just can’t.

—

Slowly The Under-Ground came into view as did the downtown square where not one person lingered due to the weather. Each bench was devoid of its regular users and it seemed like a ghost town more than anything. The faint smell of chimney smoke crossed your senses and it only made you wish you’d be able to just cozy up next to a fire and forget this cursed timeline you were in. You could just imagine the families in their homes just a few blocks over, probably preparing for dinner in their well manicured kitchens while their kids enjoyed the warmth of the fireplace and watched a wholesome movie. What you’d give to be in their position again. Young and free of responsibility.

Fat rain drops began to paint the pavement and you thanked whatever higher power that it had waited until you arrived at work to unleash the beginnings of what seemed to be a storm. You now only bargained with Mother Nature that it would be kind enough to let up by the time your shift ended. The Fall rain seemed to be treating Hawkins extra cruelly this year.

You’d scurried as fast as you could to the front French doors of the shop, swinging one open as the bell chimes above and a blanket of warmth cocoons you, allowing you to take in the rich, chocolatey smell of a recently warmed brownie mixed with notes of espresso. It was 4:55 PM, just five minutes shy of when your shift was supposed to start, aiming to keep it as close as possible to avoid Steve and Robin the best you could.

There wasn’t a single customer in sight, a brief whiff of bleach filling your nose as you walked by a ‘Caution Wet’ sign propped in the middle of the floor. You didn’t even give whoever was behind the counter so much as a glance as you kept your focus on the floor, making your way toward the back to hopefully avoid everyone so you could set your things in your locker and prepare yourself for your shift. The typical jazzy music played over the speakers and you could just barely hear a whisper of what had to be Robin’s voice directed at Steve. Something along the lines of ‘fix it, right now’. If she was referencing what you suspected, she was naive to think that Steve could just ‘fix it’ right here right now. In your eyes she was practically telling him to slap a band-aid onto a bloody gash that would actually require a severe amount of stitches.

Your gaze remained glued to the dark tiled floor, the grout interesting you more than the hushed conversation between two traitors. The hope was to ignore any and all attempts to make amends at this point in time on Steve’s part. And to dodge any reasoning Robin tried to sprinkle on top. But hopes are often lost and before you could reach the back, Steve’s scuffed Adidas forced their way into your line of sight. Your name fell from his tongue like an apology that you were far from accepting.

“Listen, can we-can we talk?” He sounded as if he was begging for his life and you were too mad to look into his eyes to further read him.

All you offered was a scoff as you tried to push past him however he stood in your way, a bold move for someone on such thin ice.

“Please?” His head ducked down in an effort to meet your eyes, succeeding for a mere second where you caught that stupid sympathetic wrinkle in between his eyebrows and his apologetic stare. It didn’t work this time.

“Move.” You were stern as you bit your lip to keep from showing any kind of emotion.

“We have to talk about it—“

“We don’t have to talk about anything.” You snapped bitterly.

Robin seemed to understand to keep her mouth shut in this instance, she knew this wasn’t some dumb disagreement that you’d end up laughing about at the end of the day. This was grounds for a possible severed bond. So there she stood, wide eyed as she pretended to clean the already sparkling countertop, blue polish chipping from her nails as she gripped the rag with apprehension.

And Steve seemed to know his place as he stepped aside, comprehending that he would not make much progress with you right now and that you may not even forgive him ever. It terrified him but what could he do? He fucked up and he was suffering the damages, a far greater loss than his selfish needs were worth. Respecting your boundaries was the most he could do right now and it gutted him from the inside out.

You were lucky that only a single tear escaped and trailed down your cheek, your skilled ability to not cry in public proving very useful in the moment. Wiping it away with dignity, you proceeded to the back room, only wishing to have a minute alone to recover before having to put on a facade. Your locker was your only target but you’d fumbled as your mind worked quicker than your legs, bag flying off of your shoulder and spilling out a tube of mascara, a half eaten bag of chips, and a few papers from an assignment you’d tried to work on last night to take your mind away from the endless sobbing. It felt as though the dark clouds outside were following you and wreaking more havoc than could handle. Quickly, you scooped up each item and shoved them back in your bag, a few curses uttered under your breath and when you were about to push yourself up off the sticky ground, you were met with a pair of abyss-like brown eyes.

He was tying his decked out apron around his waist, looking down at you with concern. You hadn’t even seen him upon first walking in, his presence residing in the corner of the room where it seemed he placed his helmet on the window sill farthest from the door. He was early. And he was never early. Without a word between you, his hands were up in surrender as he spun back around towards the window, back facing you as he pulled a pen from the apron and seemed to scribble on something. The interaction seemed strange as he didn’t offer some insult about how clumsy you were. And you didn’t snap at him the moment he laid eyes on you.

Seeing him still made you beyond upset but the tension in the air carried something far more complicated that you couldn’t distinguish. So you left it, swinging open your locker and snatching your apron before shoving your bag inside, the metal clanking noisily as you did. A breeze brushed past you while you secured your apron to your satisfaction and when you finally glanced behind you, Eddie was no longer in the room.

Patting at your pockets dumbly for your phone before departing out to the front, you were having trouble locating the device. You double checked your bag but no success, even feeling around the inside of the locker just in case. It wasn’t until you turned around that you realized you must have abandoned it on the foldable break room table in your uncoordinated walk earlier. And there it was sitting atop the table—with a steaming to-go cup next to it? Surely that wasn’t there before, you would have definitely knocked it over with how close it was to your phone and how ungraceful you were in your movements. You were starting to question how insane you were going with everything swirling around in your brain since last night, did you make yourself a coffee in the midst of Steve trying to coax you into a conversation? That must have been it.

Except as you further inspected, there was some kind of writing on the side of the cup. Scribbled in black sharpie was a single word. And realization hits you like a train when you read it.

“Roadkill”

~end~

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Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @hideoutside @hellfirefiend @emilyslutface

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #st fic #eddie fic #eddie munson series #eddie munson fics #the under-ground

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verfound · 3 months ago

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WIP Wednesday: 08.21.2024

Mostly better, and the next chapter of A Thousand Words is almost done. Hopping back six years to the time Juleka and Rose ended up in the photobooth... 👀

When Juleka didn’t say anything else, Marinette just smiled and waved before running over to her seat, and Juleka sighed as she started climbing the steps to her own. She sat down and started pulling her books out, but there was an odd feeling that made her pause a moment later.

It wasn’t the same odd that had been plaguing her all morning. This was…a prickling. Like the feeling of eyes on the back of your neck. Or…

She slowly turned her head and glanced up from her books, her eyebrows lifting as she saw the girl sitting beside her. She…she wasn’t new. She couldn’t be new. They…they hadn’t had a new student since the first day of school, when everyone was new. Or…no. Chloé had started a few days after everyone else, but she had been in New York visiting her mom or something. It didn’t really count. So the girl next to her had always been sitting there, right? Except Juleka would have sworn she’d been sitting alone at the desk the past month…

The girl was leaning onto the desk, her chin propped up on a hand and a wide smile on her face. Large, doll-like blue eyes glittered at her from an elfin face framed by short blonde hair, and she was…she was so…pink. Juleka tried not to shudder at that. She’d never seen so much pink on one person before — even Marinette balanced it out with neutrals.

The girl was just…staring at her. It was creepy, and Juleka was well-versed in creepy. It was her whole aesthetic, after all. This was just…unnerving.

“Good morning,” she finally said, her voice as high and airy as her otherworldly features. Juleka blinked and looked back at her books, her face warmer than it had been a second ago.

“Um…hey,” she mumbled. The girl giggled and scooted a little closer. Juleka tensed as she leaned in.

“Isn’t it just a glorious day?” she whispered, like the nice weather out was some kind of big, national secret. “I hope we don’t have an akuma today. Oh, it’s entirely too nice for an akuma! I’m in such a good mood today, and an akuma would just ruin everything. Don’t you think?”

“Ah…” Juleka said, glancing back at her. “I…I guess?”

It’s not like they could actually control the akumas. They tended to just…pop up.

“Do you know why it’s such a good day?” the girl continued, scooting even closer. Juleka tensed, her eyes sliding to the side to glance at her. She was getting too close now. The girl blinked, her smile slipping a fraction of a moment, before it came back in full force. “Sorry, sorry. Not good day — great day! Glorious day! Absolutely wonderful, fantastic, splendiferous —”

“What’s so great about it?” Juleka asked, turning to her. She had a feeling if she didn’t cut her off the girl would just…go on forever.

…shoot. What was her name, anyway? She should know her name, right? She had to. They’d been siting next to each other for almost two months — how did she not know her name?

“How could it not be the best day ever?” the girl asked, blinking those too-wide, innocent eyes at her. She leaned in again, her voice low as she continued. “I have it on very good authority that, last night, I met my soulmate!”

…what.

The girl just kept smiling at her, clearly waiting for some kind of reaction, but…Juleka didn’t know what kind of reaction she was waiting for. Was she supposed to be happy for her? Juleka didn’t see how — the girl was clearly crazy. At least…soulmates were crazy, right? For someone like Juleka, who had been raised by someone like Anarka Couffaine, soulmates were definitely crazy.

“…um…yay?” she hazarded after a moment, but the girl just giggled like the absolute crazy person she was and opened her mouth to —

“Rose! Juleka!” Mlle. Bustier called from the front of the room, and they both jumped as they turned to the front. “I’m glad you two are getting along so well, but can we please start class? If you don’t mind?”

Juleka nodded and sunk down in her seat, her face burning as their classmates snickered around them. Beside her, the girl — Rose — just giggled louder.

“Sorry!” she said, scooting back over to her side of the desk. “We’ll be quiet now! Promise!”

Juleka glanced over at her, her face burning hotter when Rose winked at her.

She was so weird.

…she kind of liked it.

#wip wednesday #miraculous ladybug #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #julerose #a thousand words #rose is having none of your bullshit juleka #just talk to her already

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circle--of--confusion · 3 months ago

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This Love is in Retrograde - Part 2

Chapter summary: Taking place after the ending of "The cardinal and the seamstress." Amelia is over Terzo's blatant flirting with siblings in front of her and confronts him about it. He asks to try again at being together and the question is, can Amelia allow herself the chance on herself again? Amelia ends up getting advice from a ghoul to help her see the light. Amelia is so stubborn, wow! lol

Author's note: Love confessions! More closet antics! Alex and Sarah from my other fic are here! cute Copia/Sarah moments! Ghouls! I attempted to write smut, It's my first time [hehe] so go easy on me. My song inspiration for this chapter was another Starset song "Earthrise" along with "Manifest" like part 1.

Paring: Terzo | Papa Emeritus III x OC Amelia

Chapter 2: AFTER

Words: 10.1k

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| Part 1 | Part 2 |

MASTERLIST

Tags: Explicit/MDNI; Angst; closet confessions; Terzo is a menace; love confessions; emotional sex; fluff; smut [vaginal fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex]; google translated itallian

banner creds to @gothdaddyissues

It’s been another night of mental betrayal. Her brain keeps conjuring up memories of Terzo. The good, the bad, and the sexy. She walks like a zombie down the hallways, a giant thermos of black coffee in her hand as “breakfast”. Does Amelia like black coffee? No, she hates it. Copia’s suits are finished and now it’s time to measure the new ghouls he’s summoned. By the time she’s made it to the sewing studio, Sarah and Alex have already arrived. Copia must’ve walked with Sarah because he’s there and hasn’t left her yet.

She nods in their direction as she passes them after entering through the door but her greeting is ignored. They’re a picturesque portrayal of two sickeningly sweet lovebirds off in their own little world. Copia and Sarah barely have any space between them as they hold each other and whisper sweet-nothings.

Amelia thinks her eyes might fall out at the intense eye-roll she makes. She begins to ready her sewing area for the day once she’s at her desk.

Sarah giggles. “Copia, my love, I need to get to work.” Her hand travels up to the side of his face and her thumb stokes lovingly on his cheek.

“Sarah, dolcezza mia, amore mio. I will be desperately counting the minutes until I can be in your glorious, bewitching presence again.” He leans down for one final kiss but when Copia pulls back, Sarah pulls him back forward for another one.

Alex walks over to Amelia as she observes them from across the room. “Wow! They’re really uh, locked in.”

She nods. “Yep. Young love.” Amelia waves her hand in the air and then waves her finger. “But If I hear one more lovesick pet name, I’m stabbing someone with my knitting needles.” She aggressively points over to the couple.

Alex sighs. He notices the thermos. “This is going to be a long day.”

She looks over to Sarah and Copia. “I’m goin’ in.” Amelia walks up to them and she claps her hands. The two separate, startled. “Dracule. Please allow my assistant to assist me. Don’t you have work to do?”

Copia looks annoyed and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I have a meeting with il piccolo stronzo.”

Amelia’s eyebrows knit together. “What does Terzo need to talk to you about?”

“Music stuff. He wants to give me tour advice, I think.” Sarah frowns. He tisks and grabs Sarah’s hands. “Oh, that won’t be for a while, amore.”

Sarah nods her head. “I know, I know. Though I feel like I just got you. I don’t want to see you go off for months at a time and leave me all alone.”

Amelia feels like she’s having an out of body experience. “Yeah, starting a relationship at the beginning of an album cycle isn’t a wise decision.” she responds flatly.

Alex snorts obscenely loud. Amelia whips her head around and Alex sobers up. “Uh.” he coughs. “Yeah. Poor timing.”

“Okie-dokie. Well, I hope you have a wonderful day, dolcezza mia.” Copia kisses Sarah’s hairline. “And I hope my ghouls behave enough. My new multi-ghoul can be a bit feral.” He laughs nervously.

“Don’t worry, Vladdy, I’ll keep him in line if anything happens.” Amelia assures him.

Sarah bats her hand in the air. “We have your suits ready to go. I think I’ve managed to get out of The Gauntlet unscathed.”

Amelia chuckles lowly. “Sarah, if you think his suits were the entirety of The Gauntlet, you have a bigger storm coming.” Amelia laughs and Sarah yelps.

Shortly after Copia leaves the studio do the ghouls arrive. Six new ghouls and one returning. Dewdrop. But now with a different element. Wonder what the story is there. He stares at Amelia; his eyes are the only thing she can see behind the chrome that covers the rest of his face. His head tilts. He could probably say the same for me.

“OK!” she grabs the tape measure. “In order to make this morning go by as smoothly as possible, I will measure you each, one at a time. My assistant Sarah,” she points in her direction “Will be taking my notes.”

One of the ghouls pipes up, Swiss, she thinks? “What does he do?” His thumb points over to Alex.

“I’m the eye candy.” he smiles waves his fingers. Amelia grumbles at him and Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m the every-man. I repair, mend, sew, find shit we might need. I can do it all! I have some mending requests for the siblings that I’m working on today.”

The ghouls nod their head. A couple of them give a thumbs up. “Hey! You’re like me. The multi-ghoul.” Swiss smiles.

“Dew, I will assume nothing’s been altered? I doubt changing elements modified your body that drastically.” She walks over to the next ghoul. Amelia has to nod her head further back. Mountain. She calls to Sarah.“Sarah, get me the longer tape measure, please?”

The ghoul shrugs his shoulders.

“What’s the plan with the costumes? Are they the same as the previous era?” Rain asks while she measures them. “We were able to talk with the other Papa’s ghouls.”

Amelia shakes her head. “No, these will look different. I plan to have them look similar to Copia’s suits but with a few changes.”

“Could Copia ever help give input on the costumes?” Sarah asks.

“No.” Amelia tersely replies. The room falls silent. She tries to defend the reaction. “It would turn into a thing. Also, it’s one less item for him to worry about! It’s a win! And if he really, actually hated it, I would make changes.”

One by one, each ghoul is measured and documented. Once Amelia was done with a ghoul, they either stood on the side or went to chat with Alex; she saw a few phone numbers being swapped. The morning gets away from them and the afternoon is filled with the sounds of paper rustling and being cut to form the pattern pieces that will become their costumes.

Every now and then a sister or brother will visit to pick up the article of clothing that was dropped off to be fixed by Alex. On their way out, a couple siblings looked over to Amelia as she watched them come and go. They gave a knowing smile to her and instantly her memories of the past shove their way back to the front of her mind. The last sister to give her that look is long gone by now but Amelia’s brain has left the station for the day. 4:14pm. Stick a fork in me, I’m done!

“I don’t think I can do any more tracing and cutting. How about we all call it a day?” she stands up from her table and stretches. “Sarah.” she yawns. “Alex and I have a clergy meeting tomorrow. You’ll be on your own for the first couple hours.”

She nods. “Okay! That’s no problem. I’m almost done with these pieces and then I can start on cutting mockups.”

Amelia claps her hands together and then sits down. “Great! You two can go, I’ll lock up. I have a couple things to clean.”

Alex and Sarah file out to get dinner, Amelia stays for a moment in her chair. The room is totally silent, save for the hum of the fan in the corner. Even now, nearly two years after Amelia left Terzo do the siblings feel the need to remind her of it. The noise in her head is deafening and she leans over the table with her head in her hands. After all the time that’s passed, she’s reached past the point of tears. She’s now angry. He’s being more obvious about it. Why?

“Fuck this!” she stands, grabs her now empty thermos, and heads out to grab dinner before it’s too late.

There are two people talking down the hall, around the corner. Who could still be here at this time? She rounds the corner to find-

“Oh, Papa!” a sister giggles. They lean against the wall, her back to Amelia’s direction. Terzo on the opposite end faces towards her. He leans towards the sibling. His suit that she made looks immaculate on him, of course. A few strands hang loosely in front of his face and his skull paint doesn’t even look smudged at this point of the day. He’s as perfect as ever and it torments Amelia every time. It’s too late she thinks. Terzo doesn’t seem like he would want to talk to me now about how we left things. How I left things.

He could do with less blatant flirting in her vicinity, though. Amelia rolls her eyes dramatically. Oh papa! She mimes and theatrically moves her hands to her chest, rolling her eyes while she passes by the two.

Terzo’s eyes flick up to see her walking by before he looks back to the sister. His mouth turns up into a smirk. “And what time will your Papa need to come by tonight?”

Amelia schools her face to not react until she’s passed. Her hands ball into fists and she grits her jaw once they can’t see her anymore. il piccolo stronzo indeed.

◊◊◊◊◊

The next morning her and Alex pile into the meeting room with a few others; Papa Nihil, Sister Imperator, and Cardinal Copia included.

“Where is he?” Sister Imperator asks. “The meeting should’ve started thirty minutes ago!”

As if on cue, Terzo enters the room with a dramatic flourish. “Mi dispiace.” his face paint looks like it was applied in a rush. “My alarm didn’t go off on time.” He walks to his seat and sits down.

Sister Imperator stands. “Well, now that everyone is here, let’s begin.”

Sister drones on for most of the meeting about various clergy topics. She asks Copia about his songs and progress with the new ghouls. Amelia is asked on her costume plans. Sister then asks Terzo what he plans to do about the upcoming Black Mass and he takes a moment to respond. Because he’s asleep.

“Papa!” she slaps the table and his head falls forward before jerking up.

“Hu- what?” he blinks rapidly.

“The. Black. Mass. What are your plans?”

Amelia snorts to herself, badly concealing it. “Long night?” she condescends.

Terzo squints at her. “Thank you for the concern, Amelia.”

“Amelia…” Sister Imperator cuts in.

“It’s just,” Amelia continues “,so irresponsible! The rest of us were here on time. You showed up late. And now you fall asleep at the table?”

“Amelia!” she flinches. “You are dismissed.”

Her eyes go wide. “But Sister!” she defends. “I was trying to…”

“You failed. Now leave us.” Sister ordered. “You too, Alex. I have no need for the both of you two anymore.”

Amelia gets up with her tail between her legs. She walks out, Alex following closely behind her. “I’m so sorry.” he starts. “Amelia is just… on her period.” He cringes immediately, closing his eyes after he gets the door to the room closed behind him.

“Alex, what the fuck?” Amelia whisper-yells.

They walk down the hall to the sewing studio. “I should be asking the same.” he retorts. “You’ve never done that, ever.”

She sighs. “The siblings keep mocking me.” Alex raises an eyebrow. “They won, remember? In the fight between them and I for Terzo’s attention.”

“That doesn’t explain what just happened.” he shakes his head. “That was also two years ago and technically you surrendered.”

“No need to remind me.” she grumbles. Amelia takes a deep breath. “I was walking home last night after locking up and, well, I saw him and a sister talking.” Alex nods. “She was cute and giggly and I may have… mocked her as I was walking by.” She lowers her voice at the last bit.

“Amelia. How old are you again?” He scolds.

“I won’t justify that question with an answer.”

He sighs. “Well, you’re at least old enough to know better.”

“He was way worse! He said ‘when does Papa need to be there tonight?’ to her when he realized I was watching.” She huffs. “Prick.”

Alex groans. “I will admit, that is pretty prickish.”

Once they make it back to the studio, Sarah ambushes them at the door. Her phone is in her hands showing a recent text message, no doubt from Copia giving her the meeting info. “What happened?”

“More than I can possibly explain.” Amelia sighs.

◊◊◊◊◊

About half of the mockups are ready to be fit on the ghouls now. Alex, Sarah, and Amelia have all been wired in, focused on getting the mockups done in time. Throughout the two weeks of sewing, Amelia would mumble “Why did Copia have to summon so many ghouls?” while shaking her head and grumbling at the machine. For a handful of nights, the three of them would stay late into the evening to stay on track. Copia makes sure to pick Sarah up on their late nights. He dotes on his amore and asks if she needs anything and Amelia grumbles that it’s his fault they have to stay so late.

Mountain, Swiss, and Dew arrive one day to get fitted and it’s going well enough. Mountain’s pants need to be taken in slightly and she’s pinning in a couple areas when Sarah chuckles.

“What?” Amelia asks while she focuses on placing a pin.

“Oh, I remembered when you were fitting Copia’s suit and Papa Terzo walked in, complaining that you wouldn’t make his pants tighter.” she spoke. “And now it feels like you’re doing this to everyone else on purpose.”

There’s a knock on the studio door and in walks Terzo. “Hello?”

“Speak of the Devil.” She rolls her eyes.

He laughs dryly. “You flatter me, Amelia.”

“Oh my God.” She scoffs.

Terzo balks. “Lets not bring him into this.”

“Were you just waiting for your cue?” he holds up his hands in surrender. “Why are you here? We are a bit busy.”

“I need to talk to Alex about my shirt.” He defends.

Amelia is impatient. “Make it quick.”

The ghouls along with Alex and Sarah can sense the energy shift and the room is ominously silent for the rest of the session with the ghouls. Terzo speaks softly to Alex about getting a button on his cuff more secure and it’s fixed in a few minutes. Once he leaves, Amelia sighs with finality. Swiss, for the rest of the session has a curious look in his eyes. He whispers with Dew about something and Amelia can’t be bothered to eavesdrop.

Another afternoon goes buy for the sewists once the ghouls leave and at the end of the day, Alex and Sarah depart together for food while Amelia decides to finish a couple more seams and pattern adjustments. She finds a stopping point and locks up the studio to head home. Amelia turns down the hall and is met with the frustratingly handsome view of Terzo’s back; he’s leaning against the wall on his shoulder while he schmoozes to yet another sibling. A newly initiated brother of the clergy is hanging on Terzo’s every word. This is the last straw. The brother is caught off guard when his eyes land on Amelia’s vengeful expression while she grabs Terzo by the arm and walks, more like drags, him down the hall.

“Che diavolo stai facendo?”

Amelia pulls up to the all too familiar hall closet of the past and opens the door, gesturing to it. “Inside. Now.” She demands.

He looks at her with an unreadable expression, his paint not helping at all to give any hints, and walks in to the cramped space. Amelia follows in after him. She closes the door and turns on the light.

“What is your fucking problem?” She seethes.

Terzo is confused. He blinks and shakes his head. “My problem?” he spits out a chuckle and crosses his arms. “You are unbelievable.”

“Must you do that in my presence?” she gestures with her hand to the door.

“Are you shocked, jealous even that I’m using my free time on siblings and not on you?” he teases and tilts his head. “Did you think I was going to take up a vow of chastity when you left?” Terzo goads her.

“You never used to flaunt it in front of me until now.” her voice falters at the end. “It feels like you’re doing it on purpose.”

Terzo drops his arms and steps closer to Amelia. He points at her. “You left me, remember? I’ve been waiting and I may have begun to get a bit impatient in the recent weeks.”

It’s her turn to be confused now. “Waiting? Waiting for what?”

“For you to change your mind! For you to realize the incredibly foolish error you made when you left me that night!” He huffs.

Amelia puts her hands on her hips. “Because I’m a fucking idiot? I had my reasons, Papa.”

Terzo slaps his hands onto the shelves behind her, caging her in between his arms. Amelia flinches, her eyes flick to his and they’re on fire. She could swear his white eye was glowing. “No.” he growls. "I only ever wish to be Terzo to you, even if you’re mad at me. Please grant me at least this one request.” He asks, softly.

She nods her head rapidly and Terzo steps back to give her some space. “I had reasons for leaving that night and if I’d waited any longer, I would’ve been delaying the inevitable.” she replies softly. “Seeing how the siblings act smug around me, how I watch you indulge and flirt with the others… it confirms my fears. My reasons.”

“I understand your reasons, Amelia. I just also think at the time that they were silly.” she lets out a sarcastic laugh. His hands move to hold her face and he looks determinedly into her eyes. “When we were together, you were all I ever thought about. Because I love-“

“Please don’t finish that.” She interrupts. She’s getting choked up and he removes his hands from her face. “I’m not sure I can believe that it’s genuine when I hear them swoon about their mind-blowing nights with you.”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Tales of my sexual history the past couple years have been greatly exaggerated, Amelia.” He sounds annoyed.

“You haven’t done anything with them?” She asks.

“Well, no.” Amelia frowns. “But when I do, I keep it at arms’ length. I keep the paint on if I spend an evening with anyone. They get a night with Papa, no one else.” He says plainly.

“You’ve never…?”

He slowly raises his hand to cup her cheek. “I can’t bring myself to see anyone, to have anyone in the same way that we were. I would be wracked with guilt. To make love with someone, to lay myself bare in that way would feel like crossing a line.” Terzo once again holds Amelia’s face in his hands.

She can feel her eyes well with tears and his thumbs are ready to wipe any that fall. Amelia’s hands rise to hold his wrists in place and she closes her eyes. It’s not exactly what she’s wanted to hear, but it’s comforting in its own way. They stand like that for a moment, still and quiet. The sounds of their breaths fill the tiny closet as the seconds pass. They’ve released two years of pent-up frustration and now the adrenaline is gone.

“I’d like for us to begin anew.” he whispers. “The Cardinal is leading the band now and it’s only a matter of time before he is the next Papa of the Ministry. I will pass on the Papacy to him and then retire completely and I wish to spend the rest of my time with you by my side.” His thumb rubs softly on Amelia’s cheek.

“Terzo…” She finally says his name. Her voice cracks as she gets it out and her eyes open. He’s looking down at her with immense adoration and hope.

Terzo smiles wide. “Amelia.” he scans her face to figure out what she might say. His eyes linger on her down on her lips and on reflex, he leans forward.

The closet door opens to reveal a very confused and surprised ghoul. He’s one of Copia’s.

“Oh this isn’t the bathroom!” Swiss exclaims.

Terzo quickly removes himself from Amelia and steps back. One of his arms moves to sit behind his back and the other touches the back of his neck, his fingers brushing through the strands awkwardly.

“It’s uh. Down the hall after turning the corner. There should be a sign.” Amelia coughs out.

“Great. Thanks!” Swiss smiles wide enough his teeth show. He pats the doorknob. “You should probably lock it next time.” He laughs and closes the door to leave them alone.

Terzo and Amelia stare at each other in bewilderment. Their faces crack into smiles and laughter fills the small room.

“Copia’s ghoul has excellent timing.” He remarks.

“Yep.” She emphasizes the P sound.

Terzo moves to stand closer in front of Amelia and he grabs her hands to hold in his. “What I said earlier, you don’t have to answer it right now. Only when you’re ready, please let me know.”

Amelia nods. “I will. I promise.”

“Good.” He nods back and brings her hands up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

◊◊◊◊◊

Amelia was so drained after the confrontation with Terzo that after taking something to-go from the dining hall, she fell asleep easily and slept like the dead. The pressure in the past two years was released and her chest doesn’t feel so tight. Her shoulders feel a bit lighter the following morning and the alarm sounding off doesn’t feel as dreadful. On her way to the studio after getting breakfast, she’s decided on coffee with cream and sugar. She decided to treat herself and chose a hazelnut flavoring. Terzo’s almost confession of love replays and his proposal to start again sits in her mind.

“Good morning, everyone!” she calls to the studio. Her voice is cheery; Sarah and Alex glance to each other and squint their eyes towards Amelia. She sits at her desk and begins writing her to-do list, listing the items she needs to complete for the day. Her phone chimes.

--------

[Do Not Pick Up] 8:00 am

Did you know there is a missing Stanley Cup game winning puck? In 2010, the NHL team that won the trophy in a thrilling game 6 was not able to find the puck that secured the victory. Even the FBI got involved but it still hasn’t been found.

[Do Not Pick Up] 8:02 am

I don’t want it to be radio silence between us anymore, not after yesterday. So here, have a mystery of the day.

--------

I should probably change Terzo’s contact in my phone now Amelia thinks.

--------

Amelia 8:03 am

How do I unsubscribe from these? ;)

--------

Terzo 8:04 am

I’m afraid that’s not an option, tesoro.

--------

She laughs and it makes her feel giddy.

“You seem… chipper this morning.” Alex calls to Amelia. “What are you smiling at?”

“I have uh, downloaded an app that gives a mystery of the day!” She lies, hoping her blush is concealed enough.

“Uh huh.” Alex nods. “Because I thought, well, I read something interesting from Swiss yesterday when he texted me and-“

“Since when are you on texting terms with the ghouls?” Amelia interrogates.

He sits up straighter in his seat. “I only text with Swiss from time to time!”

“Well you can tell your ghoulfriend that-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! He’s not my ghoulfriend. He is a ghoul… that I know.” Alex defends.

“What did he say?” Sarah interjects.

“He said that on his way to look for the bathroom - some of the halls are still a bit confusing for him - he opened a door to find Terzo and Amelia in a closet in a very intimate position.” Alex reveals.

She gasps and covers her mouth with her hands. “No!”

“We didn’t do anything! We were just talking and well…” Amelia doesn’t know how to end the sentence. We did almost kiss.

Sarah looks over to her. “Oh, and FYI, it’s not a good idea to fuck in that closet. The shelves aren’t great back support.” Sarah scrunches up her nose.

“We weren’t fu- wait, what?” Amelia looks taken aback. She and Alex stare at Sarah.

Sarah blushes and looks up at the ceiling. “Remember a few weeks ago when I was complaining about my lower back hurting and I said it was because of my period?”

Amelia and Alex let out an affirmative “Ooooh” sound. An awkward silence falls over the room, then, and the three them wordlessly return back to their work.

◊◊◊◊◊

--------

Terzo 8:45 am

In 2015 there was a high profile cheese slicer theft. The world’s most valuable slicer was stolen from the Amsterdam Cheese Museum. Worth $28,000, covered in diamonds, it was snatched from the basement archives. A reward of a fancy cheese basket and fondue set was presented to anyone who could come forward with substantial tips.

--------

Terzo 8:36 am

In mid-winter, 1931, a Swedish ship the “SS Baychimo” became trapped at sea from the ice along the Alaskan coast. The crew abandoned ship to find shelter nearby and when they went to return to the ship, it was gone. 38 years later the vessel was spotted 50 miles from where it was originally abandoned and by the time a crew could be gathered to bring it to shore, it disappeared again. To this day, no recovery has ever been made of the ghost ship.

--------

Terzo 8:27 am

For nearly 300 years, the Pine Barrens of New Jersey have been called the home of the New Jersey Devil. It’s described as a long-necked, two-legged creature with hooves and wings. Its alleged origins begin in 1735 when a local woman was pregnant with her 13th child and right before it was born, she proclaimed “Let this one be the Devil!” and once it was born it sprouted wings, hooves, and a tail. To this day no one has been able to provide concrete proof of its existence.

--------

Terzo 8:53 am

Shakespeare’s works will always remain a mystery, specifically in the lost play “Love’s Labor’s Won”, the long-held belief that it is the sequel to “Love’s Labor’s Lost.” It was first referenced by writer Sir Frances Meres as he wrote about the playwright’s works. Some believe it was an alternative title to “Love’s Labor’s Lost” but other believe it was a play in its own right. No evidence of the show has ever been found other than second-hand references.

--------

Amelia 8:56 am

Where are getting these? I’ve been wondering about it for the past week.

--------

Terzo 8:57 am

Primo’s idea. I was gifted a desk calendar of daily mysteries a year ago but never used it. I’ve been skipping around since there’s no point following the order.

-------

Amelia 9:00 am

Yeah that sounds like him.

--------

◊◊◊◊◊

One evening after dinner, Amelia walks to the library to check out their hobbies section. She heard from a sister who works there that they recently acquired knitting reference books. Library hours have been recently extended and many siblings have taken advantage to study ancient texts or chat quietly. Tonight, the space is buzzing with activity; siblings look through the shelves or lounge on the comfy couches. The new knitting book selections were fruitful and she found one on circle yoke sweaters that piqued her interest along with a book of Japanese knitting patterns. She passes by the sitting area on the way out and has to do a double-take.

She finds Terzo sitting in a plush chair with a book in his hands. He has one leg crossed over his other knee and he’s changed out of his regular suit but still he wears dark purple dress pants and a black button up. The top two buttons are undone and he is wearing his reading glasses. She’s never seen him in the Papal paint with the glasses on and it’s all a sight for her eyes. It’s almost too much for her. His eyes however haven’t noticed Amelia yet. He’s been preoccupied with a brother of sin who can’t tell that Terzo really just wants to get on with his book.

She can’t conceal her giggle in time and Terzo looks up, following the familiar sound. He locks eyes with her across the room and winks her. She blushes and hides the book in front of her face then brings it back down a few seconds later. He hasn’t looked away and Amelia can sense something deep in her heart once again. The long-lost sensation of fluttering butterflies up to her chest. She smiles to Terzo and walks off to check out her books. She can somehow feel his eyes on her and she’s testing all of her will power to not look back.

◊◊◊◊◊

Today the three sewists have finally met their threshold. Even Amelia cannot keep up with The Gauntlet and on a sunny Thursday Sarah, Alex, and Amelia take the day to rest and recharge.

She decides to walk in the courtyard for a bit to think. Their non-stop sewing marathon for the ghouls has prevented her from fully giving Terzo’s proposition a proper consideration and she wonders if fresh air will help to clear her mind. She talks to herself, gesturing wildly down a path and some siblings walk by her will funny looks. Yeah, that’s probably fair she thinks. Amelia finds a quieter, less populated section and sits down so she can think out loud in private.

“He doesn’t seem like he’s fully moved on.” she says to herself. “But would he really take another chance on me?”

“Would you?” a voice cuts in from further down the pathway.

“Dew? Am I interrupting something? Should I move?” Amelia calls out. He walks closer and sits down next to her on the bench.

“Not at all. Did I interrupt something?” Dew responds with a playful lilt in his voice. She can’t see his face due to the chrome mask but she can tell he’s smirking.

“I’m just thinking out loud about something.” She sighs.

“I could tell.” he nods. “Well, don’t let me get in the way.” Dew leans back on the bench, threading his fingers together and leaning his head back in his hands. “So, Would you?”

“Would I what?” she asks.

“Would you take another chance on yourself?” He nods his head towards her.

She’s silent for a moment. “I’d like to say ‘yes’ but I’m not sure.”

“I don’t know what you two were for each other, but when you left, Terzo was a wreck for a long time.”

Amelia turns to look fully at Dew while he continues to look forward. “I didn’t know that.” she looks down at her hands in her lap. “He always seemed so put-together.”

Dew sighs through his nose. “Only for the clergy, never around us. Going on tour was one of the few ways he could feel normal even if he was playing a version of himself at times. When Terzo didn’t have any obligations, he became a recluse.”

Amelia breathes a deep sigh. “I’m an asshole.” She drops her head into her hands.

“No, you’re not.” Dew sits up straight and moves his head to face Amelia. His left hand pats her knee. “Humans are terrible with emotions. What is it you all like to use as an excuse? Fight or Flight?”

“I flew, I know, I know! But when he came home that night I… The paint on his mouth was smudged and he had kiss marks on his clothes!” she waves one of her hands in the air.

“He kept pushing the sister away but she was very persistent with Papa. One of us had to escort her out once she got to his neck.” he tilts his head to the side. “And if I remember correctly, his face paint was smudged from kissing foreheads all night. He kept professing that the only lips that would touch his from now on were yours.”

The entire night comes crashing down in Amelia’s mind. Her eyes feel misty and she sniffles. A tear sits dangerously close to falling down her cheek. “I didn’t know.” Amelia wipes at her eyes. “He said the kiss marks meant nothing to him and I didn’t even let him explain his mouth.”

“So, you accused him of infidelity and then didn’t let him defend himself?” he said incredulously. “You ghosted a man who looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky.”

“I couldn’t allow myself to believe that he could completely… love… me.” She almost cringes.

Dew chuckles and she swats at him. “Do you really think you are so awful? Terzo is flirty, sure, but he likes making people happy as Papa. Your happiness meant the world to him above all else.”

“I just didn’t see what was so special about me.” she looks down and picks at her fingernails. “I knew he cared about me like I cared about him but there was always a nagging thought in the back of my mind that he would meet someone so in awe of him and he’d forget about me.”

Dew chuckles. “Yeah, you’re not an asshole. You’re an idiot.” Amelia shoves him. “Hey!”

“I’m happy to hear that my inner turmoil is hilarious to you.” She deadpans.

He stands up and placed his hands behind his back. He tilts his head down to look at her and Amelia tilts her head to look up at him. “You need to tell him these things. I can’t tell you why he loved you so much but I know he did and it broke his heart every day when you were gone.”Amelia nods with determination and Dew turns to leave.

--------

Amelia: 5:45 pm

I’m ready to give you my answer.

--------

◊◊◊◊◊

The following evening Amelia takes careful, tentative steps to Terzo’s apartment. He’d asked for her to come have dinner with him while they talk. With shaky hands she takes a deep breath and then knocks on his door. After a few seconds, it opens to reveal him and he’s wearing a pair of black pants and a comfy dark green sweater; Terzo’s face is bare, free from any paint he’d worn that day. Her mind flashes back to the last time she’d seen his face that way. It was earlier in the night before it all went to hell two years ago.

“Ciao, Amelia.” He nearly whispers his hello. It feels like if he speaks any louder, she might run off.

“Hello.” She smiles. Terzo steps back to let her in and closes the door once she’s inside.

“Thank you for coming.” he glances at her outfit. He chose simple black jeans and a red button up blouse with bishop sleeves. She blushed slightly under his watchful eye. “You look beautiful as always.”

“Thank you.” She whispers. “You…too.”

Terzo gestures to the table he has set up. He guides Amelia to take a seat while he walks over to plate their meal for the night. “Fettuccine al Pomodoro. The tomatoes are fresh from Primo’s garden.” He smirks. “I got permission this time.”

Amelia laughs and he smiles wide at her reaction. “I’m sure he was happy you’d asked.”

He brings over their plates and then sits down across from her while they begin to eat their meal. The pair eat in silence, only occasional hums of approval or fork scratching sounds float into the room. He eats a few bites off of his plate but mostly watches Amelia as she savors hers. When they’re finished, he takes their plates and silverware to the sink and clears the table. Amelia gingerly rests her palms on the table, Terzo puts his elbow on the table to and rests his head in his hand. He looks at her expectantly.

Is he waiting for me to start? she thinks. “So, I came here tonight to give you my answer, Terzo.”

He nods his head softly. “And… what do you say?” He watches Amelia, almost pleading.

She lets out a deep breath. “I say yes.” He sits up straight in his chair. “Yes, I want to be with you. To try this again.”

“A-Amelia I am delighted to hear it.” Terzo scoots his chair to sit closer to Amelia. His knees bump into hers in his enthusiasm to be nearer to her.

“We need to talk first, though. I have some things I need to say.” She looks down at her lap.

He takes her hands into hers. “Whatever you have to say, please say it.”

“First, I want to say I’m sorry. I’ll say it as many times as I need to-” Terzo lightly squeezes her hands and it cuts off her train of thought.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“But I do. I acted out of fear. I didn’t let you defend yourself. I thought a sibling was finally able to woo you enough to convince you of my irrelevancy. I didn’t let you explain and I jumped to conclusions and left.” her voice shakes. She feels her eyes becoming misty. “I t-thought you’d finally found someone who was s-so amazed by who you were and that they’d become more interesting than me-” Amelia sniffles and a tear falls down her cheek. Terzo brings her in to his chest while his arms wrap around her back in a snug embrace.

“Amelia I wouldn’t, couldn’t ever think someone was more important than you.” His right hand moves up to stroke through her hair a few times. Amelia’s hands tentatively wrap around his waist and pulls him closer.

She sniffles again. “I couldn’t understand at the time, I still don’t really understand now, why you think I’m so special.”

He moves back to look at Amelia. “Can I tell you?” His thumbs softly wipe at the tears around her eyes. She nods. “Of everyone I’ve ever known in this ministry, you were like my one constant. My family, the Emeritus legacy, makes people treat me differently. Siblings think of me as this tantalizing higher power and the other Bishops and Cardinals try to suck up to me so when I became Papa, I don’t randomly fire them or relocate them.” he smiles. “Throughout the couple decades I’ve known you, every time I spoke with you, I was always some stronzo named ‘Terzo’ and I admired your consistency even when I technically should’ve corrected you at times. I can’t help but be attracted to how you didn’t give a shit about my title.”

“I don’t like putting people on pedestals.” Amelia squeak out. “Also, I’m pretty sure Sister Imperator would have the final say in any relocations anyway.”

“Probably.” he lifts her chin up. “Do you understand, now?” Terzo searches her eyes.

She nods. “I think so.” Amelia leans her forehead against Terzo’s and closes her eyes.

“When you left me that night,” Terzo begins, softly. “,it felt like a part of me left with you.” He pulls back from her forehead. “You are one of few people who know me this intimately. I was hurt, Amelia, that you would think of me so poorly.” It’s Terzo this time to look down at his hands.

She grabs his hands into her own, rubbing small circles on his palms. “I think… I just got caught up in everything, mentally. You always reassured me, and when we were around each other I was fine. I could feel your love even if we never spoke it. But then you had more obligations, more events that would take you from me.” she lets out a shaky breath. Terzo squeezes Amelia’s hands as a small reassurance. “And then there were the looks from the siblings. It’s like they were angry, Terzo. They acted like I took something from them.”

“It pains me to hear that they felt so entitled of me in that way. I had my moments of intense devotion from the siblings so to speak, but I wasn’t aware of the extent of their spite towards you.”

Her emotions get the best of her and she feels tears welling in her eyes again. “I tried to hide how it felt as much as I could. You genuinely care for the congregation and the funny thing is, in a way, I don’t blame them. I’d hear the stories of siblings spending a night with you after I left and below all of the gloating and bravado,” deep breath “,I could tell that it was still special for them. You are Papa and that means something in this ministry.”

He huffs. “I feel guilty now for my flaunting earlier and my rendezvous. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “No, please don’t! I thought I was setting you free. I should be sorry that I couldn’t block out the noise and not let it get to me.” A small tear falls down her cheek. Amelia takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Terzo coos softly and wipes the wet streak from her cheek. “Oh, please no more tears, amore? We’ve shed enough of those for a lifetime.”

We? She looks into Terzo’s eyes and sitting this close, looking at him without the paint, she notices just how exhausted he looks. How many sleepless nights had she unknowingly given him? Amelia’s hand rises up to cup his face. Her thumb brushes lightly on his cheek and his eyes flutter shut. She grazes her thumb down to softly brush along his lower lip. Amelia tries to remember what Terzo’s lips felt like on hers but it feels like a faint memory at this point. He gasps lightly when he feels her remove her hand from his face.

“Amelia.” he whispers.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” He all but begs her.

Amelia nods her head and Terzo’s hands hold her face firmly. He kisses her like he hasn’t kissed anyone in a century. She’s almost overwhelmed at the way he pours his affection into her and Amelia’s hands go to rest on his shoulders for stability. Tired of leaning awkwardly, she lifts from her chair without breaking their kiss to straddle his lap. One of her hands slide up to thread her fingers in his hair. In her enthusiasm, she tugs lightly on the strands and he hums deep in his chest. Terzo smiles and Amelia can feel the way his lips perk up against hers.

Terzo’s hand starts a path from her waist down to Amelia’s lower back and he pulls her further into his lap. The passionate assault on each other’s mouths continues and now their tongues battle for dominance. Amelia’s arms around his head pull his face even closer to hers and she shifts in his lap to feel flush with his body. A matching set of satisfied hums are exchanged.

His hand moves once again, further down her body to grab at the curve of her bottom to give a light squeeze. His hips shift under her slightly and she begins to notice the growing bulge below in Terzo’s lap. The feeling stirs up a forgotten tingling sensation back in her lower stomach. She swivels her hips, grinding down lightly as a test and Terzo leans back, ending the kiss with a groan and breathy laugh. His eyes open and he smiles at Amelia who’s looking back with the same expression. She begins to look down and frown and he angles her chin to look back up at him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” he asks. Terzo’s hands rest on either side of her hips. “What’s going on inside your head?”

“I’m not sure if it’s wise to take things further tonight.” Her eyes dart around the room and she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his palms rub softly on her side. “If you would like to stop, we can.”

“Here’s the thing: I don’t want to stop.” She admits, looking down sheepishly.

“Then we won’t.” Terzo smiles.

She nods and then they lean in for another round of kisses. After a moment, his restless hand slides under her shirt to move up and palm her chest and his mouth starts to kiss down her jaw to end on up on her neck. He squeezes lightly at her chest and Amelia whimpers into the air, pressing down on his lap which in turn earns a groan from Terzo. They’ve started grinding against each other at a slow, lazy pace while he bites at her neck, no doubt leaving a bruise for tomorrow. She can’t stand the teasing anymore after a while.

“Terzo.” She breathes.

He plants one last pronounced kiss to her neck before pulling back to at her. “Yes?” Terzo asks with half-lidded eyes and a smirk.

“Take me to bed.”

He smiles wide. They stand up from the chair and he takes her hand, placing a small kiss to her knuckles before leading the familiar path to his bedroom. The two stand on the side of his bed, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. Amelia nods quickly at Terzo and he raises his hands to begin unbuttoning her blouse. She watches him while his focus is trained on the small buttons and once the last one is released from its buttonhole, she helps to shrug the shirt off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor beside her. Amelia’s hands grab at the hem of his sweater.

“Your turn.” She chuckles. He smiles and raises his arms for her to lift the garment away. She runs a hand down his soft chest hair and rests it on his hips. Her other hand’s fingers brush themselves through his hair, fixing it after it became disheveled when he took off his sweater. She pulls him in for a small kiss and Terzo’s hands rest on her shoulders.

He tugs on her bra strap and whispers into her lips. “We forgot something.” He smirks.

Amelia rolls her eyes and unclasp her bra before pulling it off, to follow the path her blouse took to sit on the floor. Now free of its confines, Terzo’s hands slide to fondle her chest. His thumb runs over one of her pebbling nipples and she gasps at the sensation. In retaliation, Amelia’s hand lowers to caress the prominent bulge poking at her hip. Terzo groans and he lets out a sigh. With a sudden urgency, her hands rush to the button on Terzo’s slacks and she expertly unbuttons them. Pulling the zipper down she pushes the pants down his legs and it gives some relief to Terzo’s sensitive, aching cock in his briefs. He loudly sighs into the room. Her pants are next to go and together they remove their underwear to end up fully exposed for each other now.

He leads her backwards to the edge of the bed and whispers in her ear for her to lay down against the pillows. Terzo is facing Amelia, lying beside her on his right side and he leans down to kiss her lips softly. His fingertips trace an invisible trail from her collar bone, down through her chest to her stomach. “Please, let me show you what you mean to me?” His fingers ghost down her stomach to her slightly spread open legs. He grabs at the soft flesh on the inside of her thigh and his thumb rubs small soothing circles.

Amelia nods her head. “Yes, please.” She breathes out. Her eyes close and his hand slides up her leg. She instinctively opens her legs wider to give Terzo better access and his fingers tentatively run along the enticingly slick lips between her legs; they both gasp in unison at the feeling. Terzo smiles, happy he can elicit such a reaction from her. Amelia is already sensitive from their kissing and grinding earlier and now just a feather-light swipe from his fingers is enough to have her squirming. He continues, slowly grazing his fingers from her lips to her clit, pressing down ever so slightly before moving back down. Amelia can’t help but fidget in her spot, gifting Terzo with small whimpers and mewls signaling her pleasure. She’s so wet, his fingers slide with barely any resistance.

She gasps when Terzo slowly inserts a finger at her entrance. She can feel the tight fluttering below becoming more intense and she’s close to falling over under his spell. After a short while, he pushes a second finger in, curling the digits and it’s all so much. Between his thumb slowly rubbing on her clit and the two fingers inside, she nearly yells to him. “Terzo I’m so,” she huffs “,close-“

“Please, amore, come for me.” He begs and she can’t help but comply.

One final curl from Terzo’s fingers cause Amelia to fall into her orgasm, sighing out ‘Terzo’s with a smile. He softly rubs her clit a few times as she rides out the high before slowly removing his hands from her pussy and licks her release from his fingers. She watches him as he closes his eyes and hums and savors the taste of her on his fingers. When she looks down, she realizes he hasn’t given himself any attention and his cock looking beautifully red and flushed, leaking at the tip. It’s standing at attention against his stomach, aching for some relief.

She leans her head up lock eyes with Terzo and he leans down to kiss her. She can taste some of the lingering essence of herself on Terzo’s tongue when they deepen the kiss. She pulls back slightly. “You look like you could use some help.” Amelia smirks.

Her hands move slowly to his tip, spreading some of his pre come with her thumb and he hisses, his head falling back. Terzo releases a soft whimper when she removes her hand for a moment to spit in it and then lowers it back down to wrap her hand around him. Using his own slick and her spit now, she gives small tugs, letting him savor the sensation. He’s rested his forehead against hers, moaning as she continues to pump his cock. More pre come starts to leak out and she collects it to give a better glide down his shaft. He rushes to stop Amelia before he can get too worked up.

“I won’t last very long if you keep going, Amelia.” He smiles awkwardly.

“I want you to feel good, too. That’s the point, Terzo.” She smiles.

He lifts his forehead away from hers. Terzo moves from his position on the bed beside her to leans his body over hers, settling between her legs. His hand rests on the side of her face. “Not if I plan to give you another orgasm with my cock.” He leans down to steal the gasp from her lips. Her hands fly to the back of his head, pulling him closer. He lines himself up with her entrance and slowly, he leans in, taking his time for them to get familiar with the stretch of her around him. He groans into her neck “You torture me, amore.”

She feels him push a little further more inside. “I can say - ah - the same about you right now.” The both let out a breathy chuckle. He leans up to kiss her fully while he pushes the last of his cock inside, buried to the hilt. He swallows her gasp and he lets Amelia settle into the feeling of being so full of him after being so long a part. Her hand moves to stroke his cheek and she nods slightly. “You can move now, Terzo.”

He shifts his hips, thrusting in and out at a slow pace. She soon starts to feel a familiar fluttery feeling deep below and Terzo smiles down at her. Her hips move with him to help form a steady rhythm. “Are you ready to come again so quickly, amore?”

“You feel so good.” She rolls her eyes when he gives a particularly deep thrust in that moment. “It’s hard to resi – oh just like that” She pants.

“I’m reaching my limit, Amelia. Are you almost there?” He asks, panting against her face.

She nods furiously. “Mhm. I’m close.” Her hand moves to rub over her clit while Terzo continues to thrust in and out in and out at a hurried pace. Terzo’s lips on hers, the delicious stretch from the feeling of him inside inside her and her fingers on her clit are all too overwhelming and it’s enough to have Amelia toppling over into her second orgasm of the night; it feels like all of her nerves are being stimulated at once. The convulsions of her inner walls around Terzo’s cock give enough for him to come soon after Amelia, filling her with his own release. They mouth at each other’s moans as the two ride out their highs before Terzo’s arms give out, his body settling onto her chest. He mouths a few kisses to her breast, over her heart. Amelia cards her fingers though his hair while they lay there, content, letting their breaths even out

Terzo slips out a short while later after he’s softened and he gets up to bring a wet washcloth over to clean Amelia and himself up. The two cuddle in silence for some time, his arm wraps around Amelia and she feels at peace, finally. Overcome with affection, she turns her body to look at Terzo, her hand comes to rest on the side of his face.

“I love you, Terzo.”

He leans forward to kiss her lips, lingering there for a few seconds. He pulls back with a smile. “Ti amo, Amelia.”

◊◊◊◊◊

The next morning, Amelia is roused from her slumber when she feels the soft pecks on her shoulder down to her arm from the man behind her. Terzo notices her eyes are open. He tightens his arm around her and gives her a soft “Good morning, amore.” His voice is still gruff from sleep.

She sighs dramatically. “It would be if someone hadn’t woken me up.” Amelia turns around to face him.

Terzo smirks. He leans his lips down to stop at the corner of her mouth. “Mi dispiace! Would you prefer I stop?”

Amelia snorts and rolls over to her back. Terzo takes this as an opportunity to drape himself on top of her, kissing all of the newly exposed skin he couldn’t reach earlier. He kisses and nips from her mouth down to her chin. He moves further down to her collar bone, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake to the curved peak of her breast where he’s stopped for the time being. He rests his head in her chest and her fingers settle in his hair. She finds a small number of gray strands and Amelia thinks it makes him all the more beautiful.

“Making up for lost time?” She jests.

He raises onto his arm and moves back up Amelia’s body. “si, Amelia, and I fear I will not be able to let you leave this room as a result.” Terzo drapes his arm over her stomach and he plants a small kiss to the point at her shoulder.

She laughs and, in that moment, it sounds like music to Terzo’s ears. “I’m eventually going to have to go back to my job, Terzo.” She raises an eyebrow. “That includes leaving this room.”

He begins kissing down Amelia’s body once again. “I’ll have a sewing machine brought to my room.” He smiles into her stomach. His eyes flick up to hers.

Amelia can feel herself getting worked up and his watchful gaze below her isn’t helping. “I-We’ll have to eat!” She reasons. Terzo moves down to kiss the side of her hips and she squirms in her spot.

“I’ll have a ghoul bring us food when we get hungry.” He’s settled his body lower, between her legs. Terzo raises one of her thighs to pepper kisses on the inner flesh. “Because I am not going to spend another minute,” he kisses her thigh again and she sighs. “,where I’m not touching you or looking at your beautiful face.”

“How can I argue with that?” She breathes heavily from his adoration.

He laughs while he moves back up to lay down beside Amelia. “Somehow I believe you could.”

She scoffs.

They spend the rest of the morning in each other’s arms, catching up from the past two years or just simply existing with each other in silence. At some point Amelia decides she needs a shower and Terzo comes along to “help” her. After a very handsy, sudsy time in the shower, the couple emerge fresh and clean. She borrows a robe from Terzo until she can get some new clothes and lounges in the bed while he calls for a ghoul to bring him breakfast.

The ghoul arrives, Dew she thinks she hears, arriving and bringing in a package of food. She walks up to hear their conversation and catches Dew off guard.

“Well, when you said you needed me to bring food to your room, I was worried that you’d gone back into your old – Oh.” He stops when Amelia enters the room. “Ah. I see.”

Amelia blushes and looks down, crossing her arms over the robe. “Hey, Dew…”

His eyes flick between the two for a couple seconds. “Well, uh, let us know if you need more food later! I’m sure you two are famished.” Dew cackles.

Terzo shoos the fire ghoul away and closes the door behind him. He turns around and walks over to Amelia. “I have to admit, I am a bit hungry.”

◊◊◊◊◊

True to his word, Terzo didn’t let Amelia out of his sight for the entire weekend. They were holed up away in their own tender, affectionate world and come Monday morning the bubble was burst. He begrudgingly allowed Amelia to leave and go to work, lamenting how she was “so cruel to leave him all alone” as he reapplied his papal paint for his own work day.

She laughs as he clings to her body as she creeps closer to his door. Her hands grab at his waist and she leans into his ear. “Walk me to work?”

And that he does! They stride arm-in-arm from his room to the sewing studio, passing a few clergy members and siblings on the way. He gives a light squeeze to her arm at every person they pass as a small sign of reassurance and she for once doesn’t even think about anyone else in that moment besides the man lovingly holding her to him. Amelia looks over and kisses his cheek lightly once they reach the hall the studio resides.

She’s the last to arrive, Alex and Sarah having beat her to it. She figures that would be the case as Terzo nearly convinced her to play hooky but her brain decided to think rationally at the last minute.

“Well look who decided to show u-” Alex calls, stopping mid-sentence when he realizes Terzo is with Amelia. “Hello.” He says with a slightly smug expression.

Sarah and Copia, not having left yet, bow their head towards them. “Hello Papa.”

Terzo nods at them and then turns back to Amelia. He raises her hands to his lips to leave a lingering kiss to her knuckles. He leaves a black and white lip stain to her hand she giggles.

Alex dramatically rolls his eyes. “Not you too! Am I going to have to start bringing a spray bottle with me to work, now?”

“Is that how you speak to your Papa?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Amelia can tell he’s joking but with the paint on his face, it’s hard for others to tell.

“Well, I, uh. I’m so sorry your Eminence. I didn’t mean-“ Alex stumbles.

Terzo laughs and then waves a hand in the air. “I’m fucking with you. Though if you ruin my paint because of a spray bottle, we will have issues.”

“Yes. Of course.” Alex flashes an awkward smile and then turns to the work prepped on his desk.

Terzo smiles and looks back to Amelia one more time. His hand cups her cheek and he leans down to give her a deep, passionate kiss goodbye. Amelia’s hand threads her fingers through his hair and pulls him in deeper, not wanting to let him go.

“Ugh get a room, you two.” Copia pipes up. Sarah swats at his arm.

Amelia interrupts the kiss, much to Terzo’s dismay, to look pointedly at Copia. “Stones and glass houses, Copia.”

Terzo responds with a deep laugh and in that moment, Amelia thinks she wants to hear that for the rest of her life.

Also, FYI, I had a mystery of the day calendar last year and that's where I got the ones that were mentioned. lol. Thank you to all that have read, comented, liked, or kudo'd this, I appreciate it!

Translation:

- il picolo stronzo [the little asshole]

- Che diavolo stai facendo? [what the hell are you doing?]

- tesoro [treasure]

- Stronzo [asshole

- ti amo [I love you]

#terzo x oc #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iii x ox #terzo fanfiction #my fics #ghost fic #papa emeritus iii fanfiction #personal #i still can never figure out the tags lol #ghost

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