#oh fuck i have to tag this appropriately uh-

[calciumcryptid]

Here is a collection of my thoughts about We Are ships sex lives because I, an asexual, have them for some reason and need to get them out- (What is We Are doing to me?)

TANFANG

According to novel fans, Tan is the top and Fang is a power bottom; however, the show implies Fang is the top. This means the correct answer is they are switches, but we knew that.

Tan loves to get romantic with Fang. Rose petals, scented candles, whether in the bathroom or in the bedroom Tan commits to the most tender of sex. It is canon Tan does the come hither motion, and as much as Fang puts up a fight he adores it.

Though some days Fang gets into his head about the balance of their relationship and encourages Tan to take. Sometimes, Fang just wants Tan to use his dick like a joystick, and Tan is more than happy to jump into his lap.

Their relationship started from mutual punching, and their canon (implied) sex scene has them wrestling. Therefore, they are the roughest couple in bed. They absolutely have a mutual marking kink shown through hickies and flat-out bites. Some flavor of BDSM, though they (or any of the couples) aren't hardcore with it.

Aftercare game is strong with these two, and they preen at being the one to take care of the other with their mutual taking care of each other kink.

QTOEY

They have sex but in a very (demi)aro(demi)ace way if that makes sense? They have a code in their phone for when one of them is horny and it is "Draw me like one of your Thai boys" (Toey came up with it, Q couldn't think of anything better).

When they do have sex in their own private enclosure and not in Peem's childhood home, it is very artistic. Q has painted Toey's nudes (the only nudes of his boyfriend he has), and he hung it up in their bedroom (fortunately, they aren't the hangout house so they don't have to mad dash to hide it). Q has painted Toey's skin as foreplay, change my mind (you can't).

Before the nudes were painted, Q joked Toey should get dolled up for it and something inside Toey pinged. Since then, Q will teasingly call Teoy "doll" alongside his usual "muse". Their closet has a section dedicated to lingerie (honestly, most of the time they don't even fuck in them. Q just likes drawing and painting tasteful nudes of his boyfriend, and Toey likes being Q's model).

Regardless, the actual action is full of reverence and body worship and Q insists on fucking Toey in natural light because it makes him look more gorgeous than he already is. They have the weakest aftercare game, but considering the couples they're up against it isn't a surprise. Most points are deducted for Q vowing to never paint Toey again as he scrubs his boyfriend's skin. Toey giggles knowing he'll convince Q otherwise.

PHUMPEEM

It doesn't matter what the novel/series says, Phum is a bottom. He wants to be in Peem's lap and monopolize all his attention. Riding is his favorite sex position. The man wants to be railed by his hot artist boyfriend, and can we blame him? (Peem really likes it when Phum is on his back because Phum's hair is a national treasure.)

They do have some pet play going on. It isn't super hardcore, but it is there. After all, Peem canonically calls Phum "puppy" and I think Phum should get to call Peem "kitten" (turnabout is fair play).

There is a reason I placed PhumPeem's section after QToey, and it is because Phum was the person Toey asked to go lingerie shopping with him (lets be real, Toey is not going on his own the first time and Phum is the least embarrassing option). Phum comes home with a few things of his own, and Peem is relentless with the pillow princess teasing as he rails his boyfriend.

PhumPeem are tied with TanFang on best aftercare game, because both couples have a mutual taking care of each other kink.

Oh, right, they have sex on the beach at some point. Also, they are known for fucking in any body of water they can (which wasn't what Peem meant by the water being his safe place, but he's not arguing).

CHAINPUN

They are the kinkiest couple here.

They may not be the most consistently kinky, but they are the most varied. All Pun has to do is bat his eyelashes at Chain, and Chain will indulge Pun in his latest fantasy. Out of all of them, they are the most likely to commit to actual roleplay scenarios. The most often one, of course, being a doctor one (though Chain will make sure to remind Pun he isn't that type of doctor). It doesn't matter though because Pun finds him immensely sexy in the coat.

Although they do get up to roleplay, sometimes Chain wants to spend his time adoring Pun. The body worship is off the charts with these two, and Chain makes sure to love and worship every inch of Pun. Pun loves it, and preens under the adoration though Chain can be torturous in his foreplay.

Soft top Chain, but we all know that.

Honestly, there isn't a couple in We Are that doesn't go all out for aftercare. ChainPuns includes cuddling and snuggling under the covers, and Chain ensures Pun is fed.

[simpjaes]

NIGHT-SHIFT (p.sh)

Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does. or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 4.5k

WARNINGS―  dub-con since reader doesn’t know it’s him. 

CONTENT― office setting, sunghoon is a service top/soft-dom/whatever his clients need lol

 NOTE ― this was supposed to be a drabble, but i just....it needed a little more plot sorry. it's not very good, like fr this is not up to par with what I wanted... but i wrote it so im gonna post it.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― dubious consent, cam sex/virtual sex, dirty talk, masturbation instructions, umm…finger fucking, jerking off, fantasies, role-play type stuff

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What are the chances? Honestly, what are the fucking chances?

Sunghoon sits up quickly from his relaxed position upon hearing a voice far too familiar on the other end of this call. He’s lucky he doesn’t have his camera on just yet, you’d have seen the embarrassing reaction to…well…hearing you of all people.

He knows the world can be small sometimes, but this is too small for comfort as he hears your muttered voice through the microphone again.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” You say. 

“Ah, uh–” Sunghoon pauses. There’s no way it’s actually you. Can you not recognize his voice too? “What type of call did you request again?” 

“Full service.” You remind him. 

Oh. You’re into this kind of thing? That pretty, well-mannered employee of his? The one who sips coffee quietly at her desk while actually responding to her emails? The one who never shows up to co-ed parties? The one who always dresses appropriately and addresses him in a timid way?

You…just paid a cam-boy to get you off in full? Not just any cam-boy either, you paid him?

God, his cheeks are so heated at the arousing thought. Never once has he ever imagined you in any scenario that doesn’t involve excel spreadsheets and finances. Arguably, you’ve probably never thought of him all spread out fucking his fist either but…you’ve blatantly seen him do it already.

He wonders how long you’ve been seeing this part of him, how long you’ve been getting yourself off all alone while he puts on a show for hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of people. 

As detrimental as this is, it’s his job to do this. You paid him to do it, just like how he pays you to do your job. He can’t be letting this hold him back. No, in fact, he needs to get this hour long session over with as quickly as fucking possible. 

“Right,” Sunghoon lends a chuckle, nervous sounding on his end but to you it just sounds cheeky. “Can I get your name, babe?” 

You’re quiet at first, never having done this before and absolutely not wanting this random horny guy to know who you are. Honestly, you already requested that only he turns his camera on during this call as well. As if you’d give out your real name. You give him a name that rhymes with your own instead, and there’s another chuckle after. 

He knows you’re lying. Out of all the employees that are under him, you’re the one he has to correspond with the most. After all, you’ve been up for the promotion to being his assistant for the past three months. He knows that isn’t your name. 

 Smart girl, just like he knew you were. 

“Is that so?” He tilts his head at his blank screen in amusement, watching the microphones light up with each breath. “Alright, and you’ll do everything I say, yes?” 

You nod to no one, realizing he can’t see you and instead giving him a hum and gentle words of “of course.”

His image flashes across your screen just moments later. The same as his usual streams. Face out of frame, hand strong and willing, his cock out and on display– only half hard. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Sunghoon calls out now, as if to show you that it’s time to begin, your almost-name falling from his lips shortly after. “Don’t hold your breath, you paid good money for this, and I want to hear you.”

Oh man, this is embarrassing for you to be doing this. But truly, anything at this point is better than another night all alone. 

And he does hear you. Relishing in that voice he hears day to day reciting memos and budgets, only this time, you’re calling out pleasurable reactions to how he tells you to fuck yourself. 

He’s good at it too. You can’t help but listen to every word, touching and massaging when he instructs you to, stopping just short of orgasm for him to ask, “That feels good, doesn’t it? Wish you had me doing it for you, isn’t that right?” 

Always using the fake name. Giving you full-service by the end of the call. 

Safe to say, you’re feeling refreshed by the next morning as you ready yourself for work, wanting very much to book the infamous ServiceKing again. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Fuck, he can’t even look at you. Not after the way he got off last night. 

Not after hearing you moan out the way you did while he simultaneously imagined you all spread out on his desk for him. Not after hearing the fucking wet between your legs as you frantically tried to cum when he told you to. 

Not after you did cum for him. 

“Mr. Park–” You chime through his door, not quite noticing the way he stiffens in his seat. 

God, if you had called him that last night…

“Hm?” He composes himself by acting bored and uninterested in whatever papers you have held tightly against your chest. “What is it?”

“I got the statements back from our parent company, I think–”

“Great. Just set them down on my desk.” He cuts you off, patting his desk before hoping you get the fuck out of his office before he ends up breaking office rule number one.

What is office rule number one, you might ask? Never fuck a co-worker. What’s worse is that you’re not his fucking co worker. You’re his employee.

You raise a brow at his demeanor this morning. The usual not-so-up-tight Sunghoon appearing far too distracted today compared to usual. Most mornings, he’ll at least give you a smile and a “thank you.” 

“Mr. Park, is there anything I can get for you?” You ask with concern in your voice.

Sunghoon pauses every thought in his head as he looks at you. Narrowing his eyes and wondering if maybe he’s just overreacting. Maybe he's mistaken and that girl from last night isn’t you at all. After all, there’s plenty of people with the same pitch in their voice. She didn’t even turn on her camera, and she gave him a different name anyway. 

Maybe he just wishes it was you. 

“No, I’m fine–” He says, mistakenly calling out the fake name rather than your actual name. 

You miss the way his eyes widen for a split second before correcting himself to your real name. 

“Ah, my apologies. Got a little tongue tied.” 

You stand there in shock. No way in hell he just called you by the name you spoofed to a cam-boy last night. Coincidences can be so weird, and being called that hits you a little too close to home. 

It feels awkward in the room now and both of you play it off as a genuine mistake. Though, to you, it has to be a genuine tongue-tied version of your name. Sunghoon couldn’t possibly know about that. Besides, he appears to be more tired than usual anyway, so…you choose to believe it’s a crazy coincidence. 

You give him a nervous chuckle as you wave yourself off and out of the room with a small “It’s okay, you know where I am if you need anything.”

What he needs is to watch his fucking mouth. What he needs is to stop thinking about how you just reacted to being called that. What he needs is to pretend that none of this is happening and do his goddamn work. 

And he tries. He really does. Unfortunately, his eyes go from blurs of numbers and words on spreadsheets to the window of his office. Just outside of it. You.

How is he supposed to focus after kind of, accidentally, practically fucking you? Sure, he never touched you but…it really was you. The way you reacted to that name was so telling, and he can’t help but actually check you out now. 

You, with that body. You got off to him, with those legs of your spread out while staring into a screen. All alone, listening to his voice, moaning for him…and now you’re just sitting there in your business casual outfit like he’s not unintentionally getting hard. 

So, he avoids you. At all fucking costs, he avoids you. 

You get up from your desk? So does he, making sure that if you start coming his way, he’s walking out and in the opposite direction. You send him an email? Out of office, despite clearly sitting at his desk. You call his phone to ask a question? He forwards you to his current assistant. 

And this happens for days. To the point you know that promotion is slipping from your fingers. 

Naturally, you’re frustrated with the office-dynamic. After all, you’ve heard rumors of picking favorites. You thought you were one of them, but it appears that Sunghoon may just decide to try and beg his current assistant to stay with bribes of double pay. 

You’re more frustrated as the days go by. Leaving work yet again with no good-byes from the boss who used to show appreciation for how hard you worked. He’s colder than usual, he’s stiffer than usual, he’s– a fucking asshole these days.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ping! 

Sunghoon stares at his secret email in disbelief. 

NEW REQUEST FROM: [your email/username]

$500 PENDING. 

FULL SERVICE.

Requester note: work has been hard lately, will you help me de-stress for a little while? 

[ACCEPT REQUEST]   [DECLINE REQUEST]

Sunghoon hovers over the decline button for a solid thirty seconds as he burns a hole through his screen. Work has been hard for you lately, huh? Has it now? Try being him. 

He shifts his mouse to the accept button, wondering if he even needs that extra five hundred dollars. Those funds just to suffer more at work? Just to suddenly have the need randomly throughout his day to make you moan for him? Just to have the sounds of your pretty voice echoing in his head more and more the longer he ignores you? 

His finger clicks, hitting the accept button as he lets out an exasperated sigh. 

Why did he just do that?

Wait. 

Maybe this will help him get through the work weeks. Fucking you through words alone in secret, never telling you who he is, always letting you use him even if it’s just through audio and visual stimulation. 

After all, if you found out who ServiceKing is, you very well may quit. Hell, you might get him fired. Fuck.

This is dangerous. 

Yet, he feels the excitement in his gut before it even hits his cock as the clock ticks. He gets to hear you again soon, you get to watch him cum again soon, he–oh, he’s so turned on right now just thinking about it.

And the time comes too slowly for his liking. He feels as if he’s been edged by the time the two of you enter the call and he’s immediately turning his camera on. 

“Ah, look who it is,” Sunghoon starts, already positioning himself with a raging hard cock on the screen. “Had me wondering if you’d come back to me.”

You don’t know why your cheeks heat up, but the feeling in your gut is miles better than the frustration and anxiety that you felt throughout the day. 

“I was wondering the same thing,” You speak into the mic meekly, hiding your face despite knowing he can’t see it. “I just need to get my mind off of stuff for a little while.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sunghoon chuckles into the mic, his face perfectly hidden. “Wanna give me some context? Maybe I can use some of the information for–”

“God.” You immediately start, shutting the man up on the other side of the screen in an accidental frustration-dump. This is not what you paid him for, but you still appreciate the space to release your brain before, well, your cum. “My fucking boss.”

Sunghoon’s ears perk up, lazily stroking himself as you continue with a frantic voice. 

“I swear he just flipped on me. I thought I was doing so good, I thought I was gonna get that new position, but now he’s just ignoring me and treating me like some temp or something.” 

Sunghoon hums lowly, listening intently to the way you bring him into conversation to a man that…unfortunately, is that very same boss.

“Hmm, that’s interesting.” Sunghoon continues palming himself as he soothes you through your frustrations. “Your boss isn’t praising you.” 

You pause, feeling a ping in your gut. 

“If I were him, I’d praise you every day–” Sunghoon softens his voice. “Every night.”

“Oh…” You listen to his words, feeling your frustration melt out of you in an instant as you now focus on the way his cock twitches through the screen. 

“Wouldn’t let you go a second without thinking of how good I am to you.” He continues, both hyping himself and degrading his day-time self. “If I were your boss–”

You interrupt his words with a very quiet groan, he fucking heard it.

“Mm, you like that?” He smiles to himself, gripping the base of his cock and thrusting up to show the full size to you. “The thought of your boss liking you a little too much?”

You hum. Not that you’ve ever thought about it too deeply, but now that he’s said it, praising you, putting down your actual boss, telling you what he’d do if he were him? 

You guess, for tonight anyway, you’re into it. 

“What’s his name, babe?” Sunghoon asks, wondering if you’ll actually out his name to a stranger. 

“Park Sunghoon.” You expose him instantly, full name and all, even with a bit of bite in your voice. 

Damn.

“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon draws back, jerking his hand up once. “I’d fuck you better than Park Sunghoon.” 

You smile at the thought, imagining yourself with more power than Sunghoon has. Like you’re his boss, you’re the one dangling a promotion just out of reach before giving it to someone else. 

“See this?” The man on the screen grunts out to you, fucking tight thrusts into his fist. “Watch me, baby, get a good look.”

And you do watch. Intensely, you stare at his big cock, the head of it darkened and leaking with each pass of his hand. You’re not even touching yourself at this point, but it’s like you can feel the force of it.

“Now, I need you to open those legs for me.” He instructs you. 

You do as he says much like before, letting your legs fall open but not yet letting yourself touch. You still sigh at the movement, your panties alone shifting were enough to make you want to hump your hips up. 

“Now, turn on your camera.”

Silence. Your ears ring momentarily at the words as you immediately close your legs.

“What?” You ask in a higher-pitched tone than usual. “I requested for no c-”

“No.” Sunghoon mutters, shifting his position to lean towards the microphone and whispering now. “You do as I say.” 

He hears you huff at his words, but he hears the shifting around on your end. 

“I want to see that pussy open for me.” He continues in that same low-rumbled voice. “I want to see what Park Sunghoon is missing out on.”

You don’t know what it is about this situation that turns your discomfort into pure, rushing arousal. Never in your life have you ever considered fucking yourself on camera, especially after paying someone else to do it for you, yet– 

“Do I have to show you my face?” You ask quietly, already trying to find a lower-face-mask just to be safe in case you lose your composure and accidentally reveal yourself. 

“No,” Sunghoon assures you through a deep breath. “I already told you what I want to see.”

More silence save for the shuffling he still hears on your end. 

“Open your legs and turn it on.” He encourages you now, keeping his hand still on himself as he waits to see if you’ll actually do it.

And…

Oh fuck.

“There she is.” Sunghoon hums, trying to keep his composure at the way you give him access. Honestly, he didn’t think you would, but you do, and all he can do is lay himself back again, staring straight at the image of you. 

Your face is out of frame much like he is but this is the first time he’s ever seen you with so little clothing on. No bra, thin tank top, no shorts or pants, just panties. It takes everything in him not to moan out at the image. 

After all, it’s confirmed to be you. 

Fuck, that’s you right there. 

“Already so wet too?” Sunghoon groans now, focusing on that spot between your legs, probably so slippery and warm. 

You’re very shy though, not moving much better yet speaking as this faceless man takes in your image. You feel awkward, but still turned on despite squeezing your legs together and hiding that spot from him. 

“Oh, baby–” Sunghoon coos out in a way that makes it seem as though he was endeared by that. “That’s not going to work.”

You’re more focused on your embarrassment than you are on the way his cock leaks and pours pre-cum at the image he’s witnessing. 

“How am I supposed to show you how much better I’d take care of you?” He continues, reverting back to the same role play from before. “I bet that boss of yours wouldn’t want to bury his tongue in you like I would.”

Your legs fall open at the words, and he can see the way you thrust up just slightly. 

“That’s it, you need someone to touch you, don’t you?” He continues, watching you intensely. “Need someone to lick that pretty pussy?”

You nod, once again forgetting that he can’t see you do it before you finally speak.

“Please.”

His moan after hearing you seems far more intense than the first time you did this with him. In fact, he appears entirely focused on you. Role playing in some way but somehow acting more real than last time too. 

“You deserve some love for all that hard work.” He says to you, encouraging you to keep talking for him. “Play with yourself, go on. You need it.”

You follow his instructions on instinct, as if your body truly does need the release. 

“Feel it– not too hard, just graze over your panties.”

Ah, still you listen, holding your breath at each feather-light touch you give to yourself per his request. 

And he watches. Hyper-focused on the way that darkened spot on your panties grows bigger and bigger. So wet for him doing exactly what he wishes he could do for you come tomorrow morning. 

“Your other hand babe, slowly, lift your shirt and–”

He doesn’t even have to keep instructing you. You do exactly as he wanted, lifting your shirt gently before playing with your own nipples, still lightly grazing your fingers over your swollen clit that’s restricted by your panties. 

You moan quietly at the feeling, wishing so much that it doesn’t have to be your hands doing this. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon hums, now working his palm against his own length, gentle, barely grazing it. “Now, look at me.”

You draw your eyes forward, the image of him already arousing from before, but now? Why is he so much hotter now? As if the screen is nothing but a window into his bedroom. 

“You see how hard I am right now?” You can hear the smile in his voice as you continue to work yourself up to near-sensitivity. “Never been this hard for anyone else.”

Oh, that’s bullshit. He does this as a job. He’s just sweet talking to you for sure. 

“Been thinking about you since the first time you booked me.” He continues, keeping the touches light and making sure you don’t press on yourself too hard either. “Was hard all week for you.”

Okay, yeah, maybe you are a little too into praise. Lie or not, it’s exactly what you need to hear right now. 

“You're gonna be just as good for me tonight too?” Sunghoon hums, tightening his grip. “You’re going to push your panties to the side and show me that you missed me too, right?” 

Yes. The light touching has been nothing but torture at this point, wanting so badly to be told to do more. For yourself, for him. 

You barely recognize how your embarrassment leaves your body when you stretch your panties to the side, letting him see how they stuck to you only to unfold in a glistening mess for him. 

“Messy, messy, messy.” Sunghoon moans, struggling so hard by now not to fuck his fist straight to orgasm. But no, he can’t ruin this moment. 

That’s your pussy, looking so wet and tight, so needy. 

“Gently still, open up for me.” Sunghoon groans lowly, watching so closely the way you spread open your lips for him, the hole pulsing and dribbling so much slick. 

Never in his life has he ever wanted to bury his tongue into someone this badly. Goddamn, he’s nearly obsessed with you at this moment. He loses composure.

“Fuck–” He seethes, feeling his cock twitch wildly against his hand. “I want you so bad.”

Those words feel more real to you than anything else. Virtual sex is one thing but to have a man blatantly moan those words to you as if he means them? As if he has never let it slip for any of his other scheduled calls?

“What’s the name of your boss again?” Sunghoon asks, pretending as if he forgot, just to hear you say it. 

He notes the way your pussy clenches through his words too, as if he can see the confusion not through your expression, but through your arousal alone. Asking you that turned you off.

“What’s his name, baby?” Sunghoon presses, offering an excuse. “I wanna know who it is that gave me this tonight.”

Alluding to the fact that the only reason you’re paying him is because your boss made you feel like you need release in some way. 

“Park-” You start, not wanting to deny his demands. “Sunghoon.”

“Ah, yeah.” Sunghoon holds his breath, closing his eyes briefly just to let that breathy voice sit in his mind before focusing back on you. “Two fingers babe, slide them in.”

God, you listen just as well as you do at work. He should have given you that promotion the day he saw your application. Even without seeing you do as you're told in this situation, he already knew you were going to be getting that interview next week.

He listens to the way your cunt swallows up your fingers, so wet and needy. Swollen around the two digits as you slide them in with a breathy sigh. 

“Spread your fingers, open up.” 

You do, presenting your opened core to him without any shame at this point. Allowing him to look, wanting him to look.

“Now, say–” Sunghoon swallows around a lump in his throat. “Thank you Sunghoon.”

Your pussy pulses around your fingers, recoiling again at the name. 

“Say, Thank you Sunghoon, for all of this stress.” 

He continues, trying to encourage, adding another lie of an excuse just to get you to break. 

“Because, if it weren't for him, I wouldn’t be needing to take care of you like this, now would I?”

In your horny brain, it makes sense.

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” You moan, plunging your fingers into yourself without being told to do so, moaning out for the faceless man on the screen at your break in composure. 

And, well, Sunghoon himself is on fire. After all, you’ve only ever referred to him as Mr.Park, and hearing you practically moan his name in such an intimate way? It does nothing to keep him from spiraling into an even more selfish mindset. 

“Again.” He instructs you, watching the way your legs shake through saying his name. 

“Thank you Sunghoon.” You continue, as if the words are natural despite feeling intense irritation for the man. “Thank you.”

And, well, that very name you’re moaning is now also moaning. That little fake name you gave to him falls from his lips after you say it each time, fucking into his fist and hoping you’re watching, nearly unable to ask you to stick another finger into yourself.

Not needing to ask at all, apparently, because you do it yourself. You even bump your clit up against your wrist too. 

Shit. 

He needs you.

“Thank him for what?” Sunghoon starts to ask, feeling an orgasm approach far too quickly. 

“For making me come to you!” You answer him as if you’re frustrated, hips bouncing up against your hand just to dig your fingers in deeper. 

“What else?” He asks now, forgetting what it is he should not be doing. 

“Hmm?” You answer in a drawn-out moan.

“Thank him for what else?” He repeats first, only to follow up with his own answer. “For giving you a reason to cum.”

“Yes!” You groan, now grinding your hips up and against your palm without relaxing back against the bed. Intentionally chasing as your eyes remain on him, watching him pull and tug so roughly. 

“So fucking pretty” Sunghoon praises as he snaps his hips in time with his moving palm, eyes so tuned into you that– “Fuck–” He moans your name. “So pretty.”

And he didn’t realize it. Half expecting you to moan back for him, he’s still moaning as he watches you halt what you’re doing and cover yourself entirely.

“What did you just call me?” You ask in an out of breath voice. 

Sunghoon repeats your fake name to you, feeling the energy shift in an instant.

“No. You just called me–” You repeat your real name to him. 

“Ah, sorry babe, must’ve gotten tongue tied.”

There’s a rush of anxiety within you as you stare at the screen. There’s….no fucking way. 

Given, you’ve never seen him outside of a suit. The voice you hear doesn’t click in your head as Sunghoon’s either, considering he’s never a man of very many words. 

Instantly, you’re covering your camera with your hand, watching how the man on the screen spreads his legs out and drops his cock. Like he’s waiting, like he’s listening, wondering. Are you making a fool of yourself right now?

Are you misreading? 

He seems calm, and if it really is Sunghoon…surely he’d be disconnecting right now, right?

Why would he even be fucking himself on camera anyway? The guy makes bank! You’re the one who sees his paychecks, after all. Still, there’s a twisting in your gut as you ignore the way you still drip against your sheets. 

Very quietly, just to see, you work up the courage.

“Mr.Park?”

It’s silent for a few seconds as the man on the screen shifts, a blur of movement forcing you into a state of motion-sickness. 

You almost thought he was going to chuckle at you and ask if you were thinking about your boss rather than him. You almost thought he would use that to his advantage. 

You almost thought you were wrong, but– he disconnects. 

A few moments later, you receive an email with a refund of your five hundred dollars. 

And two hours later? Lying in your bed with anxiety in your gut, you get a text from none other than Park Sunghoon.

Mr.Park: Can we talk?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

― part two here!

[bindeds]

[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.

#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,

a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO

masterlist. request something :>

“Sir, someone is here to see you.”

Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.

“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”

“Someone else, sir.”

“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming. 

The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.

You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.

“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?” 

“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.

“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks. 

“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”

.

On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—

“Charlie?” 

“Dad!”

When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.

“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”

“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.

“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”

“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone. 

“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you. 

Something in his room buzzed intermittently. 

Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.

“Ohhh no.”

.

“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”

“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.

“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?” 

“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”

Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.

“Ow, what—”

“Go.”

“Babe, what’s—”

“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.

“Honey?” 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.

“Hey!”

Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.

“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?” 

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”

“Luci.”

“What?” His head snapped in your direction.

A silent gasp escaped you. 

His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain. 

Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”

“We’re just friends.”

“I know that but—”

“It’s an expression.”

Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.

You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.

Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.

“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”

“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”

All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.

.

The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable. 

Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.

He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you. 

You bit your lip.

“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.

“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”

“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”

“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”

“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”

“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms. 

Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you. 

“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.

You grinned back. “Okay.”

You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek. 

Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside. 

Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.

“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.

“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended. 

“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.

You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.

“I’m gonna sit back …”

You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into. 

He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high. 

“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.

“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.

You bit your lip. “Well?”

Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree. 

He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint. 

He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.

He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards. 

The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second. 

He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further. 

“Whoops,” he grinned. 

Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you. 

“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”

Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. “I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”

“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car. 

Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them. 

You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of. 

He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.

A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips. 

His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.

His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.

“Luci … fuck …”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”

Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.

Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.

It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name. 

His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal. 

Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.

“Luci, please …”

“Please what, honey?”

“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.

“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”

A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.

You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you. 

“You want it all, princess?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.

 “Are you sure?”

“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”

He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.

Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head. 

Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—” 

“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone. 

Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”

He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”

It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed. 

He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.

“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”

You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”

With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace. 

A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you. 

His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less. 

“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”

“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”

His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend. 

Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away. 

“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.

He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.

“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed. 

When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat. 

“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”

You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders. 

 “You?” Was all you could manage. 

“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”

You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.

“In me, Luci!”

He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed. 

“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered. 

“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”

“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”

“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand. 

“Yeah …”

“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him. 

“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.

Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.

Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.

“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”

You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke. 

A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass. 

Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.

You winced as you bent to take it.

Brat >:)

you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]

you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]

HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]

i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]

because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]

bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]

You chuckled as you swiped the notification.

You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al

Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH

You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo

Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole

You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

Vox : ( typing … )

Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—

“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.

Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.

“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”

“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.

You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat. 

You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.

He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.

You laughed. Hard.

“What—what’s happening why’re you—”

“The clothes, baby!” 

“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”

“I mean …” you smirked. 

“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking. 

“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”

“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket. 

He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.

“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”

“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“

“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”

“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.

Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened. 

“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”

You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours. 

“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”

“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek. 

“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”

“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”

“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said. 

And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.

I know you love me because we love like it’s fate.

.

You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them. 

“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends. 

You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.

“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind. 

“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”

[scoonsalicious]

4.2 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, mentions of Bucky's past.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky convinced Sam to lie to Lily for him if she asks where Bucky is tonight.

A/N: In the car, I just can't wait / To pick you up for our very first date!

Is it cool if I hold your hand? / Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?

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You were nervous. Why were you so nervous? This man had already had his mouth on your lady bits; there was no reason to be nervous about just having dinner with him, right? Yet your heart was racing as you waited for Bucky to come pick you up for your date. 

You must have checked your hair and reapplied your lip gloss a thousand times when the doorman buzzed to let you know you had a visitor. After telling him to send Bucky up, you glanced at the clock– he was exactly five minutes early, and you stifled a giggle at the thought of him pacing in front of your building until an appropriate time. 

Soon enough, there was a gentle knocking at your door, and with a last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you opened the door.

You both stood there for a moment, taking the other in. Bucky looked positively resplendent in a black suit and burgundy button up– no tie, and the first few buttons left undone. The contrast with his eyes made them look even more blue than you remembered from this morning.

“Hi,” you breathed. “Uh, hey,” he said, seeming to come out of a trance. “You… you look fucking amazing.” You ducked your head to hide your blush– you’d put on an emerald green, A-line Chiffon cocktail dress with an asymmetrical skirt that hit just below your knees and a peekaboo cut in front– held together with beading– and a v-tieback. “Stole my breath for a minute there.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks.

“Oh, these are for you,” Bucky said, handing you a bouquet of white roses.

You held them to your face and inhaled. “They’re gorgeous, thank you,” you said, moving aside to invite him in. “You’re spoiling me, you know that, right? First the orchid, now the roses?”

You moved toward the kitchen to find a vase to put the flowers in. 

“Did you like the orchid?” Bucky asked, almost shyly, as though he was afraid he’d made a wrong move. You turned back to smile at him. “I loved it,” you told him honestly. “How did you even know orchids are my favorite?”

Bucky chuckled and nodded his head toward your living room wall, where you had three giant paintings of orchid flowers hanging over your sofa. “Just a lucky guess, I ‘spose.”

“You’re very perceptive, Mr. Barnes.” You put water in the vase, setting the flowers inside and placing them on the dividing wall between your kitchen and dining room. “There,” you said, stepping back to admire them. 

“You ready to go, doll?” Bucky asked, extending his arm to you. 

You took it gladly, slotting yourself next to him as though you were made to fit there. “I am,” you said.

Bucky had borrowed one of Tony Stark’s sports cars for the occasion, and you felt incredibly fancy as you drove through the streets of the city in it. You and Bucky made small talk on your way to the restaurant where Bucky had made a reservation for the two of you, and you found him so incredibly easy to talk to. You talked about the differences in the army between the ‘40s and now, and shared a few light war stories. By the time you reached the restaurant, he had you laughing so hard at a story he told about living with the Avengers that you thought your sides were going to burst.

You weren’t sure what kind of establishment you’d expected him to bring you to, and truthfully, you would have been thrilled with a regular old burger joint, if you were going there with him, but when you stepped out onto the rooftop terrace, you let out a gasp. The restaurant overlooked the Hudson, offering a dazzling view of the sunset over New Jersey. The tables were all tucked behind and around towering pieces of greenery– palms and ferns, and blossoming shrubs offering a screen of privacy for every group of diners. Overhead, cafe lights hung from pergolas, washing the area in a soft, warm light. It was heavenly.

Once Bucky gave his name and the hostess began escorting you to your table, he leaned in to whisper to you “What do you think?”

Your head was moving in every direction as you tried to take in every ounce of ambiance. “It’s gorgeous, Bucky,” you told him truthfully. “How did you find this place?”

“Pepper Potts recommended it,” he said. “She said it was the perfect spot for an intimate meal. Plus, they close for the winter, so if I wanted to take you, I’d better do it on one of our first dates.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, studying his face. “You’re planning multiple dates already?” you asked, a curl to your lips. 

“‘Course, doll,” Bucky said as you approached your designated table. “Gotta whole list of things I wanna do with you.”

You felt your face flush as he pulled your chair back for you before gently pushing you in. 

“So, what’s on this list?” you asked him once he’d sat himself down. 

“Nuh-uh,” he chided you. “They’ve gotta be surprises, at least until we get closer to ‘em.”

There was no way this man was real, you thought. No way you, of all people, could get lucky enough to catch his eye.

The waiter approached, asking if you would like wine for the table, and a panicked look flashed across Bucky’s face. You asked the waiter for a few more moments to decide.

“What is it?” you asked him.

“I have no fucking idea what wine to get!” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Fuck! I knew I should have asked Pepper!”

You reached across the table and put a comforting hand on top of his. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him. “I actually don’t know shit about wine, myself.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look, but you nodded reassuringly. “How about we just get cocktails, instead?”

The smile Bucky gave you then was equal parts relief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he said, looking much happier. “I’ll get me some of that delicious girly shit.” He winked at you, and you laughed. 

The waiter returned shortly, and you both placed your orders. Once he left, you realized you needed to come clean about something.

You cleared your throat. “So, uh, I actually have to confess something to you,” you told him, fidgeting with the napkin you’d placed in your lap.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, leaning forward, eyes sparkling in the soft light.

You closed your eyes, feeling horrible for what you were about to say. “I… I Googled you,” you told him. 

Realization dawned on Bucky’s face. “Oh,” he said, expression falling. “Yeah… uh,” he coughed into his hand. “That makes sense. So, you came to dinner to, what? Just let me down gently?”

Your mouth hung open in surprise. “What? No!” You reached over to grasp his hand again, this time interlocking your fingers with his own. “Look, the truth of it is, I told a couple of employees– my friends– about meeting you last night, and they brought up your trial.” Bucky visibly flinched at your words. “I admit, I knew nothing about it– it happened around the same time I was getting divorced, so I was kind of preoccupied for a while,” you said. “So, when my friends told me about the charges, I got… curious.”

You noticed Bucky was studiously looking down at his bread plate, not meeting your eye. “Hey,” you said, tugging gently on his hand. “Look at me.”

He slowly raised his eyes and you were struck with how… remorseful they looked. “The more I read,” you told him, “the more I realized the whole thing was a trumped up circus. Anyone with an ounce of empathy could see that you weren’t responsible for what you were made to do; that you were a victim. They just needed someone to blame, and you were a convenient scapegoat.”

“Doll,” Bucky said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “you don’t understand. I–”

“No, Bucky, please,” you said to him. “I don’t want you thinking you have to disclose anything to me unless you want to and you’re ready. I just want you to know that I don’t hold those things against you. I don’t blame you, and I don’t think you should be blamed. I want you to know that none of it matters, not to me. I look at you, and I don’t see the man the media tried to paint you to be. I see someone sweet, who makes me laugh– someone I really want to get to know better. I just want you to know all that.”

Bucky’s eyes were wide as saucers as he took in your words. You were almost afraid you’d said something wrong, after he hadn’t spoken for nearly a full minute, but finally, he squeezed your hand. “Thank you,” he said, voice choked. “You… you don’t know what that means to me. I can’t tell you what that means to me– I don’t have the words. I just… thank you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[powderblueblood]

THE BOY IS MINE (POWDER'S VERSION)

delighted to be involved in @carolmunson's eddie challenge because when do i not want to write about the boy! looping in @vvitchwords and @howdidyouallgetinmyroom for no pressure funsies, and you if you're reading this and want to do it. tag me! cw: here you'll find eddie x fem!reader in almost an implied situationship... a little bit angsty, a little bit cosmic, a little bit meta. ambiguous ending! mentions of dick and horniness but no outright smut. wc: 2k

“Ding dong.”

Hey, it’s you! Eddie grins under the flickering porchlight, crossing his arms as he leans against the door frame, paint chips falling. 

“Howdy, little hobo.”

“Tch– what a deeply unflattering and libelous nickname. Can I come in?”

“I don't know, it’s been a while…” he says, smacking his tongue against his teeth, “How do I know you haven’t caught something?”

“Look, can we dispense with the cleverness and give me a ‘y’ or an ‘n’ here? I've had a day.” You prop up the brown grocery bag like an infant against the dip of your hip. “and I brought libations.” 

“Booze?!” Eddie's mouth bounces around the ‘b’ and he ushers you inside with a flourish. “Well, why didn’t ya say so? M’lady, right this way…”

And he’s right, by the way. It'd been a while, just the two of you. He'd been here doing god knows what with god knows who and you’d been up the walls doing a whole lot of nothing. But coming back together, it always felt like putting on an old shoe. Comfortable, reliable, broken in. Eddie watches you breathe in a lungful of the Munson trailer’s fragrant air, top notes of stale cigarette smoke and Beefaroni sparkling alongside Eddie's dark eyes as he hops up on the counter. Barefoot, beatific, lovely as all hell. 

You wag your finger in warning.

“Don’t get comfortable, chicken. I have a very romantic meal planned.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yeah!” you chirp, digging a bottle of horrible merlot out of the brown paper bag. Thunk. “I brought dessert…” followed by a tub of vanilla frosting. Thunk. “...followed by dessert.” 

Eddie, from where he perches, tries to peer further into the bag. “Where's the rest of it?”

“There’s– what? that’s it.”

“Wine and frosting?”

“I cut to the chase,” you tell him, popping open the can and stepping into the living room, “Whose favourite part of the cupcake is the cake part? Get real.”

“You’re nothin’ if not pragmatic,” Eddie sighs wistfully, slipping back off the counter and casting a glance to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. He swallows and tacks on, “and that is why I like you so bad.”

Eddie shuffles around the kitchen, looking around for appropriate receptacles with absolutely none in sight. Shouldn’t matter, right? But even after all this time, he’s still trying to impress you. even with how… low maintenance this thing between you is. 

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. Is this okay?”

You stare at the novelty mug he’s holding out to you. Like, really stare at it. 

“I'll bring you my ten dollar-est bottle of wine and you’re gonna make me drink out of the haunted bear chalice?”

That thing is really fucking awful. It’s shaped in a convincing enough impression of a teddy bear, but pockmarked like a peanut shell and staring at you with the milky, demonic eyes of an ancient evil. Where does Wayne find this shit?

“Well, I never know when you’re gonna show up so I never know when I oughta, like, polish the crystal!”

“You’re too busy polishing something else in my absence, I'm guessing.”

Eddie's eyelids lower, his brows quirk, his lips curl over all Don Juan-like. “What happens between me and my buffering rag is none of your business.”

“How come you get the Garfield one?” you poke, gesturing to the bright orange cat shaped thing in his opposite hand. 

“Because it’s my trailer and it’s my party and I'll Garf if I want to.”

“What if I wanna Garf?”

“Tough break, sweetheart.”

“I'm the guest, I should be allowed to Garf.”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Garf me!”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem,” Eddie says, all-mock glowery and stern. “Take your fugly little bear and pass the frosting.”

You brought red wine because you know how docile and touchy it makes him, and he knows that you know. Eddie relishes in it, that faint berry buzz staining his lips and the outer edges of his brain. He digs another fingerful of frosting out of the container and sucks it right down his gullet, so noisily that it makes you clear your throat. You look up from your end of the couch, from that notebook you’re always scribbling in. He wonders how you can even see, since the only real light source in the living room is from the television blaring Headbangers Ball.

“Oh shit. Am I distracting you?” he says, all mock-coquette, and sucks his finger right down to the hog’s head ring with an exaggerated slurp. “From your investigative journalism or whatever?”

You note something down, pointedly, and shove him in the thigh with your socked foot. 

“Stop trying to seduce me. It’s not gonna work.”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Robinson.” Eddie's voice is a smooth sing-song with some grumble under the surface, his bared, smiling teeth catching the light of the TV. Jeez. 

“I'm writing the biography of some graceless idiot,” you prod a little further, scribbling on the page just to scribble.

Eddie hikes up in his seat, wine almost sloshing over Garfield's open cranium. 

“I fucking knew it!” he cackles, jabbing a triumphant finger into your calf, “I'm your muse. I'm the reason for which your artistic heart beats. I’m your bottomless well of inspiration–”

“You have frosting on your nose.”

Eddie leans toward you, hand still on your leg. His tongue pokes out and swipes nowhere near his nose. “Did I get it?”

“No.”

Another attempt. “How ‘bout now?”

“Mm-mm.”

His dark eyes round out, pout very much pouting. He's a great pouter. That could be what you miss most about him, when you’re away.

“I think I need help,” Eddie whines.

You scoff, setting down the bear mug and the notebook on the ground. 

“You’re fuckin’ relentless, you know that?”

With a couple of shuffles, you plant your thighs on either side of Eddie's lap and cup the back of his head. He's got a smug little look splashed across his face now, one that you know just how to wipe off. Your tongue licks a smidge of frosting from the tip of his characterful, unforgettable, rideable nose and Eddie's breath hitches. His hands, his fingers cuffed up in silver, dig into your thighs. Your faces, inches apart and his lashes falling as his hips ever-so-gently kick into yours.

“Shit,” he breathes, teeth pressing into his lower lip as his face tilts you-ward. “I’m at your mercy, you know that?”

You wind a couple of his curls around your fingers and Eddie presses his forehead to yours with a hum. He’s so sweet. so eager, even at the first touch. teasing his way into it but immediately losing the fight, already begging for more. 

“You’re missing your show,” you inform him uselessly as his hands move up your thighs. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie tells you, with a hairline crack running through his voice, “It’s only fucking Mötley Crüe. I wanna run Vince Neil over with a ride on lawnmower. This is quelling my rage.”

You pull your head back a little and shake it. “You wait all week for The Ball, Eddie.”

“I wait—…” he nearly chases you as you move from him, neck going stiff. A grin masks the earnestness teeming out of him, but the wine has made it a little more obvious. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, but strong is all Eddie knows. “I wait all week for you.”

Your tongue clucks against your teeth and he kind of can’t stand that pitying way you’re looking at him, and it’s kind of all he ever wants to see again ever forever in his whole life ever. 

“Baby,” you mumble, like it’s stupid, and he knows it.

Eddie’s slowly losing the last fuck he has to give. He chuckles, lightly, desperately. 

“But I do!” he tells you, hands sure on your hips, “I do. I wrote you into a campaign this week, y’know—even though I knew you’d hate it.”

“Mm. Even though I told you not to.”

“Yeah, even though,” he shrugs, defiant. “She's great, though—she’s a creature of the fae that’ll bewitch you on sight. And she bends around the light, appearing and disappearing at will, but you can always kinda feel her there.”

“Like psoriasis.”

“Tchyeah. her flare ups are a bitch to handle.”

“Scabby and painful, just how you like your women.” You sit back a little. He registers.

“Aw. Don’t be like that. That’s not even—...” he runs a thumb along your cheek, more for him than for you. “She just needs some soothing and she’ll be okay.“

“Eddie,” you say, and your tone’s not dark, but it could be, “do me a favour. Don’t immortalise me.”

“Huh?” his brows knit.

“It's not good for you. It’s gonna make you think I'm something that I'm not.”

“But…” 

“But but.”

“But what if that’s the only way I can get close to you?” Again, that facetious look on his face, that sardonic smile that’s masking everything except the spellbound look in his eyes. Dark stars dancing in his irises from the twilight of the TV. “And I really wanna be close to you?”

“Making up stories about me? Living in your own head?” It’s something he’s heard his whole life, but you phrase it soft. But he knows what you mean. “And you like that?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie insists. because it’s something worth protecting, actually. “Have you been outside lately? It sucks.”

You give a little. “Salient point.”

“Besides. You write about me, how is it any different?”

“Well, I write the facts. So I can remember you. You write fantasies, so you can enjoy me.”

Eddie shakes his shaggy haired head. you’re not winning this one. 

“Sorry, smartass, but there’s no way you’re writing objective facts in there. It’’s all gonna be tainted from your point of view,” his clutch on you moves to your waist and he sits up a little straighter, “which, I don’t mind. I like your point of view.” A beat. “I like that you’re seeing me at all.”

“Oh. Eddie.” It’s not as if people don’t, it’s not as if… you know, he has nobody, but the way you dig him is special. The way you dice him up.

“God,” he groans, his forehead sinking into your chest, “How can someone make me so emotional and horny. Not right. Feels like a spy tactic. You workin’ for the opposition, trying to take me down?”

“Yeah, because you’re such hot patriotic property,” your hand pets at the crown of his head, “Who died and made you America's sweetheart?”

“This boner is a betrayal of my countrymen.”

“Try a couple of bars of the national anthem and maybe you’ll calm down.”

Eddie's head pulls back so he can look at you, trying to pull focus from the way his dick is straining in his flannel pants. But, tough shit, crapshoot. He wants to press you into this sofa and rut into you slow, feel the suction of you surrounding him. 

“Why aren’t we doing this again?” he asks, bleary-kinda.

“Because you get too sad when I have to leave,” you say into his curls, “and sometimes I have to leave.”

“So why do you still come here?” and when he asks you this, he doesn’t feel sad. doesn’t feel a cold shock, an empty feeling like you’ve described before. Eddie just wants to know, now, while he’s in the warmth of you. 

“Because… well… no one else is worth writing about right now.”

That's okay. It’ll do. He'll take what he can get from you, even if it isn’t everything. Because what he can get is great. you smile at each other, wineskinned and a little lopsided, and you ease yourself off to cuddle into his side while The Ball plays on. 

“God, those pants really leave nothing to the imagination, do they?”

“What’s that?” Eddie or Vince Neil?

“I can see the full outline of your penis head.”

“And what a glorious sight, you ungrateful degenerate.”

“Never said it wasn’t. It’s a nice shape. But.”

You push a throw pillow into Eddie's lap and he hisses a little. “If you don’t stop…”

“You’re gonna hump that pillow and think of me?”

Eddie's brain staggers alongside the beat of Ride My Rocket by Pantera as it blares from the set, looking at you with a cocked open mouth. “Yes! Obviously!”

[ramblingoak]

The Sexy Cardigan

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 6 - Blushing

Copia x Aether

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Copia teaches history at the high school and Aether is a firefighter. ~

Warnings: Copia being awkward and cute, flirty texts idk, nsfw 18+ mdni, 600 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

Aether:  What are you wearing?

Copia’s brain whited out when he read the text and he quickly slapped his phone screen down onto his desk.  He winced when the sharp noise made a few of his students look up from their tests but after he gave them an awkward smile they went back to work.  Unholy hell, what was Aether doing?  His phone vibrated again and Copia took a deep breath before turning it back over.

Aether:  Is it sexy?

He couldn’t help but look down at himself, seeing his usual button up and cardigan.  His pants had felt a little tight this morning but he blamed that on Swiss continuing to show up with pies from his new boyfriend.  Copia nibbled on his bottom lip before slowly typing out his reply.

Copia:  Are cardigans sexy?

The response was immediate and Copia could feel his cheeks heating up violently.

Aether:  On you?  Hell yes.

He bit down on his lip to prevent a delirious laugh from escaping.  Oh this was not an appropriate conversation to have right now.  Copia looked up at the clock on the wall, disappointed to see that there was still an hour left before lunch.  Maybe playing along just a bit longer wouldn’t hurt?  He slouched down in his chair while he responded.

“Mr. Emeritus?”

“Shit!”  Copia fumbled with his phone, cursing again under his breath when it fell to the floor.  With a sigh he looked up to see one of his students standing on the other side of his desk.  “Sì?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

He nodded and waved the student away, managing an awkward thumbs up when they gave him a funny look.  Copia looked down at his phone before bending over to pick it up.  This was ridiculous, he was terrible at flirting in person so continuing this on the phone would just be even more embarrassing.  Determined to delete the text he had typed out he was horrified to see that while fumbling with his phone he had accidentally sent it.

Copia:  What about off?  

“Merda.”  Was there a way to delete sent texts?  Copia stayed frozen in place, trying to decide if it was worth googling.  An alert from Terzo popped up but he ignored it.  He did not have time for whatever the fuck Terzo was up to.  “Uh, class?”

Obediently all their heads popped up from their work.  Copia began to make mental notes of who had been on their phones but decided today would be a good day to let that go.  He started to ask if anyone knew an answer to his problem but his phone vibrated again and the message had his heart speeding up dangerously.

Aether:  Even better.     

“I have to go to the bathroom!”  He jumped up from his desk, banging his knees in the process.  His chair shot out from behind him, hitting the wall and making one of his bulletin boards fall to the floor.  Lucifer, what was wrong with him?  Limping, he made his way over to the door, flinging it open and turning back to his class with as stern a look as he could manage.  “No phones!”

He barely avoided breaking out into a run, rushing into the teacher’s lounge and then into the private bathroom inside.  The students would be ok on their own for a bit.  Probably.  Long enough for him to get the nerve to suggest to Aether they continue this conversation that night at his house.  In person and hopefully naked.

Terzo would be so proud of him. 

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More fics in the Tales From Lucifer's Hollow masterpost

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Crimes of Essex Proportions (Broadchurch)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Alec's stuck on his case. You just so happen to know exactly what he needs to know.

CW: murder investigation, body carving, Alec being tired as usual, reader knowing all the right things inexplicably

Broadchurch Tag List: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Alec, are you alright?” 

Your beloved DI is currently sitting at the kitchen table, head in his hands and papers strewn about haphazardly across every single surface in your kitchen (and the lounge room too). The man groans in deep frustration and when he finally pulls his head up from his hands, you have to refrain from giggling at the red marks across his face where his hands just were. 

“I just- I don’t ken what the fuck this means,” he replies, not really answering the question but also answering the question for you at the same time. A half-answer. Ah, not alright then, you gather. “I just hate bein’ stuck- I hate it.” 

You hum, taking a look over a sheaf of papers being weighed down by his ‘best boyfriend’ mug that he says he hates. He never uses a different one though, you’ve noticed. The papers are full of notes from the coroners. There are some pictures you probably didn’t need to see, but you’re immediately pulled in by the numbers carved on the corpse's chest. ‘203.’ Hmm, interesting. The rope tied around the bodies’ hands also piques your interest as well. You can’t be certain, but- it looks as though it has been woven by hand. 

“What don’t you get, sweetheart? Maybe I can help? I know I’m not supposed to, but- you know. Fresh pair of peepers, might be worth something.” 

Half of Alec’s face is smushed against his hand, and he pulls the spare seat out for you to sit down at the table with him. He fumbles around with some of the papers before showing you a slightly grainier picture of another body. 

“He was found in 2020- there was a- erm, number carved into the skin. Two-hundred- and a little wooden carvin’ of a whale. Cold case, the locals never solved it.” 

You look over the image. You know it’s not quite appropriate, but you kind of want that wooden whale. Oh, hang on. 

“That’s a sperm whale,” you say, brows furrowing as you pull the image closer to your face. “And- we don’t even really get those here in Broadchurch. Been a few sightings in Scotland, though.” 

Alec looks between you and the paper before he interrupts your rambling. 

“Hang on- do you- hang on, do some of these things make sense to y’er?” 

You blink, dragging your eyes away from the papers to look at your boyfriend. He’s looking at you expectantly, and your mouth opens and shuts a couple of times before you mutter out an- “erm- y-yes?” 

“Well, okay- so- here’s the thing,” you say, putting the pictures down and averting eye contact. “Oh, I don’t even know where to start. Okay, so, you know Moby Dick, right?” Alec nods, clearly not following you. 

“Well, it was based on this real whaleship called the Essex, and, erm- in 1820 they set sail on a whaling expedition,” you trail off, scratching at your forehead after noticing the look on Alec’s face. “This has a point, I swear- and 2020 was the, uh, the two hundredth anniversary of them setting sail. When did you find this new one?” 

You picked the newest victim’s image back up again- “And what’s this rope made from?” 

Alec shuffles through some notes before replying.

 

“Erm- newest victim was found… November twen’y by the beach,” he pushes his glasses back up his nose as he looks for the other requested information. “Twine was made from…. Hogs hair.” 

You scoff. Of course. This was just… there was no other way. It couldn’t be a reference to anything else. 

“One of the crew mates- Benjamin Lawrence, uh- well when they were sunk by the sperm whale and those that survived were stuck out at sea in their little bitty whaleboats- Benjamin used the time to make a thing of twine with his own hair. I think… just as something to do? I mean, they were stuck out there bobbing along for ninety-three days and eating each other when they started to pop off. What else did he have to do?” 

Alec was staring at you, unsure what to make of all this. You brandished the images in front of him. 

“See- look, ‘203’ carved into the skin for the anniversary, the hog hair hand-made twine, the date the body was found, the hand-carved sperm whale? Surely there couldn’t be another explanation for all this?” 

Alec looked unsure, but based on how he’d appeared when you came in earlier, this was the best lead they had. 

“I’d be looking at people with a really big interest in nautical stories. Maybe someone in the historical society? Oooh, I wonder if a distant descendant is living here somewhere from one of the eight survivors.” 

“How do y’ken this stuff?” He asked, noting some things down. “I mean- it’s not exactly a rivetin’ subject, is it?” 

You chewed on your bottom lip, admiring the images of the hand-made twine. 

“Oh, I dunno. I think it’s pretty interesting. A special interest of mine. I’m just… glad I channelled that into creative expression and not… murder.” 

“Well, yes, there is that,” Alec replied. He got up from his seat and pressed a hard kiss onto your forehead. “I still don’t ken how y’put all that t’gether,” he said in disbelief. 

“Could you, erm- would you mind comin’ into the station later, providin’ a statement f’er all this?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at him suggestively, delighting in the way he laughs. He almost sounds embarrassed. Almost. 

“You taking me in, officer? Hmm? Have I been naughty?” A flush creeps up his neck, and oh, isn’t that interesting. Hmm. You might have to see what that’s about later. Maybe he’d like it if you were a little naughty sometimes. “Course I will, love. Just let me know when. You can borrow my books too if you like. I have a few on the Essex.”

 

“That would be great,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the skin. “We could leave now. Sooner we get this case sorted, sooner I’ll be able t’sleep again.” 

Makes sense. You peck him on the cheek, grab your coat and find your couple of books from the bookcase in the home office and meet him by the car. It’s crazy to think that your little special interest is helping out with a criminal investigation, but you were happy to help out in any way that you could. And like Alec said, the sooner this whole thing was solved, the sooner you’d get your boyfriend back. 

As expected, once all the connections were made between the Essex and the bodies, it didn’t take long for Alec and Ellie to solve the case. 

Another criminal behind bars, and a slightly easier sleep for Alec.

  And another year passes on the anniversary of the sinking of the whale ship Essex.

[corrodedseraphine]

timezone | #2 so fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (mentions of her having long hair and bigger thighs), chrissy cunningham x robin buckley

chapter summary: Keeping his promise, Eddie heads to sunny California immediately after his second tour to find his friends and, more importantly, the girl who hasn't left his heart despite being out of touch for about three years. Full of hope, he ends up at a bar with a strangely familiar name. The evening turns out to be full of surprises, not just for him.

the story is also avaliable on ao3

previous chapter | masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

songs that I used here: BABY SAID and TIMEZONE by Måneskin

as always, thank you @i-me-mine for help and support, if not for you most of my works wouldn't be published 🥺

I can't count how many times I've changed something here, when I wrote the chapter, everything seemed to look good, but now I have extremely mixed feelings about it. I will be happy if you like it, but I will also understand if you don't, thank you for reading anyway ♥

"How can I help?" a middle-aged woman asked, smiling warmly. If someone had told Eddie a few years ago that he would find himself in this place as he is now he would have laughed at them. Looking around, he felt definitely out of place. The fact that he could now afford to be here still seemed like a bizarre dream.

"We, uh- We are looking for an engagement ring." he said, smiling shyly.

"The most beautiful one you have!" Gareth added patting Eddie on the back. All day long he couldn't stop being happy that he was the one Eddie had asked for help.

They had just finished their second tour which meant a few months off and then hard work on the new album. When the others heard that Eddie's next destination was now California, they joined their friend in renting a big house by the beach together, as was appropriate for rock stars, taking Chrissy with them, who got the exclusive use of the entire basement where she set up a small apartment. The Corroded Coffin boys were also clued into Chrissy's plan right after Eddie agreed to it, and they didn't mind for her to tag along.

"What size?" she asked.

"What?" asked Eddie still lost in thought.

"What size of a ring?"

"Oh! I-I don't know…" he scratched the back of his neck nervously, when he felt a metal necklace under his fingers, he got an idea - quickly unfastened it and handed it to the woman. "Like this one."

"Of course." she nodded.

Although the jewelry store wasn't very big the selection they had was overwhelming. Wanting to choose the most perfect one for you they spent more than two hours there. Fortunately, the shop assistant proved to have the patience of an angel.

Typical for a Saturday night, the beach bar was packed to the brim, and fortunately most people were at tables outside sipping colorful drinks. A few people accosted them for an autograph as they walked toward the bar, and when they finally got there, despite the fact that he was standing with his back to them, they immediately recognized the best-styled hair in the room.

"Am I dreaming or is King Steve standing right in front of me?" shouted Gareth teasingly.

"Yeah, it's me don't cream your pants" Steve turned around with a wide smile on his lips and smoothly jumped over the bar. "Good to see you, assholes." he said and greeted everyone with a hug and a pat on the back.

"Well, well, well…" said Eddie smirking. "I knew it was some weirdo who had to call the bar Upside Down," said Eddie.

"I didn't miss you actually." Harrington laughed while hugging his friend.

"I know you did. Missed ya too, big boy."

"Dude this is really yours? All yours?" asked Jeff in disbelief.

"Yup. You should see it from the beach side, I think you'll find a lot of female fans there." He winked at him insisting on the counter. Without waiting any longer Gareth, Jeff and Simon rushed to the outside of the bar.

"So, what brings you here?" asked Steve returning behind the bar.

"The tour just finished…" sighed Eddie. "I think you know what brings me here."

Steve pressed his lips together with a thin line and just nodded.

"Can I get you a drink first? You might need it." he offered. "On the house."

"What's your suggestion?" Eddie leaned against the counter with his elbows.

"I'd say the demobat will appeal to you, but I'm afraid it will be so good it might kill you."

"Charming as always, Harrington." laughed Eddie. "Interesting name by the way."

"I think you'll like the rest of it, too." he replied, slipping him a drink card.

He was right. In addition to demobat, there was demodog, and demogorgon. Although his favorites were in the "specials" category at the bottom of the card. Dusty-bun, Mad Max, amERICA, Will the Wise, Eleven, Sinclair Ranger and Mike the Paladin brought a wide smile to Eddie's face. "Damn, I miss these shitheads." he said.

"Me too. But I'll never admit it to them. Never in my life." Steve shook his head.

"Same here. One Dusty-bun, please." he said in a super-sweet voice.

"Great choice."

Steve silently prepared two same drinks and sat down opposite Eddie when a short brunette ran up to them.

"Babe! Quickly! I need my good luck kiss before we go on stage!" she said and leaned across the bar. Steve eagerly approached her and brought their lips together.

"You will be amazing, honey, as always." he said as they pulled away from each other. Eddie watched them with a goofy grin, and grunted significantly, drawing the two's attention back to himself.

"Aren't you going to introduce your old buddy?" he asked accusingly.

"Oh, I know you. You are this infamous Eddie Munson." the girl replied crossing her arms over her chest and measuring him from top to bottom. Steve snorted seeing her reaction. "I am Layla." She extended her hand toward him.

"Eddie." He replied grabbing it uncertainly. The note of hostility in her voice surprised him more than a little, but he decided not to worry too much about it for now.

"Are you ready?" asked Steve as the girl walked away toward the small stage.

"For what?" he asked puzzled. In response, his friend only nodded in the direction Eddie was about to look.

He wasn't ready. He definitely wasn't ready to see the love of his life walking onto the stage. You stood by the still-off microphone saying something to the boy who was tuning his guitar. Steve's girlfriend took her place behind the drums, and the other, tall blonde girl grabbed the bass. A second boy stood by the keyboard.

Feeling his heart speed up second by second, he didn't take his eyes off you. You were wearing slightly ripped denim shorts and a T-shirt with the logo of your favorite band with a cut-out neckline. Your hair was much longer than he remembered, tied up in two braids. You looked stunning. As soon as you started the show, his mind blew up. You sang in duet with the guitarist, having the time of your life out there. And Eddie couldn't get out of his awe and surprise that this was the same person who just a few years ago avoided being in the spotlight like a fire.

What's your thoughts about religion? Are you close to your mother? Tell me 'bout your dream vacation And all of your ex lovers Tell me now What's that look on your face? She puts her hand on my lips, begging "Please, end this conversation"

Baby said "When you're talking, I go dead" "Shut your mouth, give me your head" I know you really want to Baby said "Let me taste your silhouette" "You can talk between my legs" I know you really want to

He enjoyed it until he started listening to the conversation of two men sitting at the bar next to him.

"I would love to talk between her legs." laughed one of them. Eddie violently turned his head toward him to see the blond man devouring you with his eyes.

"Dude she could crush you with those thighs. She'd have to lose a few pounds first." the other parsed.

"You don't know what's good."

Eddie involuntarily clenched his fist, not knowing which one he should punch first, the one who drooled at the sight of his girlfriend or the one who criticized your look. Steve watched with amusement as he sent them murderous glances, but made no comment. Despite the fact that it was his friend, and he would probably follow him to hell a second time if he had to, he partly thought Eddie deserved a little suffering.

At the same time…

The music in the club was playing loud enough that Chrissy could clearly hear every word of the song. She stood in front of the building nervously rubbing her hands trying to motivate herself to finally go inside. She had been standing there for the past twenty minutes, every now and then changing her mind about whether she should be there at all. In New York she was categorically forbidden to appear in such places, her old manager would have had a heart attack if anyone had seen her around. Now, after breaking her contract and moving to a slightly smaller agency, her manager has made it clear that Chrissy's comfort is most important, showing her support in every way. As long as she acted sensibly and took care of herself, no prohibitions threatened her.

Taking a deep breath, she took two steps forward only to give up moments later and start backing away, bumping into someone along the way.

"Shit, sorry!" the girl shouted and they both turned in one another's direction.

"N-no it's me who's sorry!" she replied raising her eyes to look at her face. "Oh my god, Robin? Robin Buckley?" she asked smiling.

"Chrissy! What a meeting!" she laughed nervously.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to the party." Not expecting such a reunion, Robin definitely didn't know how to behave in Chrissy's company. She felt uncomfortable.

"Right, silly me." The blonde rolled her eyes while knocking lightly on her forehead.

"How about you? Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, I came here alone. My new manager said I should come over here, meet more people like me, but all in all I've never been alone at a party in my life, in high school you know, then at every party Eddie or Gareth or Jeff or Simon was with me, so now I'm standing like an idiot and have been trying to get in for twenty minutes. Actually I don't know why I'm telling you all this, oh my God, you probably think I'm stupid." A waterfall of words came out of her mouth uncontrollably, Robin's presence made her feel nervous, but on the other hand, a part of her wanted their paths to just go like that.

"Chrissy…" began Robin scratching the back of your neck. Despite the fact that the girl standing in front of her was considered the most beautiful woman in the states, and more than once Robin had caught herself looking at covers with her for too long, she also believed that right now an embarrassed and flushed Chrissy looked incredibly cute, which took her even more out of her mind. She knew she shouldn't think like that. Hell, she shouldn't even be talking to her. "You know, uhm, you know this is a gay club, right?"

"Yeah, I know." sending her a meaningful look.

"Oh." Buckley replied looking even more confused. Chrissy Cunningham who was sitting in the first row in church every Sunday, dating the handsomest boys in Hawkins, Eddie Munson's girlfriend, was standing here now saying that in this place she would find people like herself? Not daring to ask for an explanation, she merely nodded and an awkward silence fell between them.

"Maybe…can we go inside and have a drink together? Talk about old times and catch up on current ones?" the blonde finally asked with hope in her voice, to which the other agreed after a moment's thought.

When they went inside Chrissy looked in disbelief at all the people inside. People who were brave enough to be themselves. Disbelief quickly turned into delight when she realized that she wasn't alone and that it wasn't that there was anything wrong with her. The words she had heard in church about people like this, people like her, went through her mind. All those years she had spent in fear of herself, of how much she had sinned with her mere thoughts about Lucy, the assistant captain of the cheerleaders. All those years in which she forced herself into relationships with boys she didn't like one bit, who made her sick when their hand tried to wander under her short cheer uniform skirt.

The hell the pastor was scaring her with no longer impressed her. She had survived hell in 1986 and now she was sure she was a million times stronger than she used to be.

She grew more and more excited as she saw those people enjoying themselves on the dance floor, as two girls not far from her whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears and carelessly showed tenderness. Would she someday be able to experience this too?

Sitting down at the bar, they each ordered a drink initially sitting in silence glancing in each other's direction from time to time. With one more glance and a sip of alcohol through a colorful straw, they both burst out laughing, nodding to each other at the strangeness of the whole situation. Taking the initiative, Chrissy began to ask her about her college, then Robin listened curiously about a recent fashion show where Chrissy was the lead model. As time went on, the conversation got smoother and smoother, the girls became more and more comfortable in each other's company, joking more often and not holding back their tongues. It turned out that Robin makes great parodies of high school teachers, making Chrissy laugh to tears in the process.

A few drinks later, they were both starting to feel a gentle buzz in their heads. Not knowing why, for most of the evening, instead of focusing on what she should be doing, Chrissy couldn't take her eyes off Robin's wildly gesticulating hands and the sparkle in her eye that she noticed when she laughed at her jokes every time. Unfortunately, she also noticed the moment when the sparkle was extinguished and the smile disappeared immediately when a tall black-haired girl, looking a bit older, approached them.

"Hi!" she came up smiling. Robin left her without replying by taking a straw to her mouth and pretending to be busy drinking. The tension between them was palpable. "Can we talk outside?" Still no answer. "Robin, can you stop acting like a child?" That was it, the crack of the dam inside Buckley was nearly audible as she set her drink down on the countertop.

"Oh, sorry, since when is not wanting to talk to the girl who cheated on me childish behavior?" she replied crossing her arms over her chest.

"Come on, I just want to talk!"

"But I don't want to talk to you," she said.

"Do you want to sit here miserably alone the rest of the evening getting drunk?"

"Excuse me." grunted Chrissy. "Robin is not alone here, and it just so happens that we were having a great time before you showed up here." She stood beside her intertwining their fingers. When Robin felt Chrissy's small hand in hers she almost had a heart attack looking at everything with shock. Only when the girl squeezed her hand giving the sign to play along she shook herself and smiled.

"Oh, yes, sorry." she said quickly. "Chrissy, this is Diana, Diana, this is Chrissy." she introduced them to each other.

Diana measured her ex-girlfriend's new companion from top to bottom, feeling out of rhythm. "I didn't know you had a taste for blondes." she said raising an eyebrow. Looking at the petite, gorgeous and adorable blonde who was her complete opposite feeling jelaous.

"Oh she does! We've known each other since high school, we were already crazy about each other! Unfortunately, in a small backward town we couldn't enjoy it like we do here." Taking a step forward Chrissy's hand moved to Robin's waist, gently hugging her.

"W-what? you never said anything..." Diana turned to Robin, but when she didn't manage to say anything, Chrissy continued on, seeing how her lie brought that one out of her groove.

"Our break-up was very hard, and I'm not surprised that Robbie didn't mention anything." Robbie? Oh god why is it so hot in here and why is my heart beating so fast? Calm down Buckley, you don't like at all how she held your hand just now. For God's sake, you don't like at all how she is hugging you! Being too busy talking to herself in her mind she simply let Chrissy continue. "Fortunately, we have found each other again, and this time I have no intention of letting her go. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go dancing with my girlfriend." Without waiting for an answer she dragged Robin to the dance floor.

"Holy shit, Cunningham, what was that?" she breathed out.

"I just wanted to help, she didn't look like she was going to leave you alone." Chrissy shrugged her shoulders. "Now don't just stand there, dance," she said.

"I'm so stressed right now, I think my body has forgotten how to move."

"Silly." She giggled and took Robin's hands placing them on her waist as she began to move her hips in rhythm and after a moment threw her arms around her neck. In Robin's head, the internal conversation with herself turned into a non-stop scream of panic. "Try to follow me. She's still looking at us."

The truth was that Robin had long forgotten about Diana. Her entire thoughts were occupied by the little blonde swaying her hips in front of her and how she shouldn't feel such overwhelming pleasure. She wanted to kill all the butterflies she felt in her stomach.

When she finally joined the dance she tried not to notice that they were getting closer and closer with every step. Somewhere near the end of the song there was no visible break between them, together with the fading melody they stopped moving however they did not let go of each other's embrace. Breathing heavily, their faces also began to move closer together. Robin's brain, which just a moment ago was trying to control the situation, shut down and let her lips taste the sweet gloss on Chrissy's mouth, who quickly responded by dipping one of her hands into Buckley's short, slightly sweaty hair. The kiss was interrupted by an uncontrollable smile that crept onto Cunningham's lips. Robin snapped out of her magic trance and with difficulty swallowed when she realized what had happened. Seeing Chrissy leaning into her side again she stepped back slightly.

"Chrissy-we shouldn't." She said stopping her by the shoulders.

"Didn't you like it?" she asked disappointedly.

"It's not like that! Liked it very much, but- something I don't understand. What about Eddie?"

"Oh." Only now she remembered everything. She was so fascinated by the evening and Robin's meeting that she completely forgot about some other important things in her life. "It's not what you think! Eddie And I- Damn." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Will you let me explain? Please. Let's go to my place and I'll tell you everything you want to know. Please." She wasn't sure where such sudden desperation had come from, but the kiss had awakened a whole new feeling in her toward Robin. She definitely didn't want it to end with just one. She wanted to be close to her, much closer than she would have expected.

"Okay, let's go."

"You were a wonderful audience, as always!" shouted the guitarist into the microphone. "Today, however, before finishing, we wanted to present you with one more song. The latest work of our wonderful and lovely y/n" he nodded in your direction, at which you sent a small kiss in his direction. Eddie did his best to ignore the sting of jealousy he felt upon seeing this little interaction and began clapping with the others.

You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better And every time I see your face, the moon should be jealous And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm losing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping Where I'm supposed to be in Wish I could've stayed

Eddie has had many moments in his life when he felt he was running out of oxygen and suddenly the whole weight of the world was falling on his head. Now it was additionally joined by a burning sensation. He had the feeling that the small box he kept in the inside pocket of his leather jacket was burning a hole in the material, and then in his skin and heart. He knew the words perfectly well, remembered the circumstances under which he said them because he replayed the scene in his head night after night.

Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I paid double for the tickets And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Now I know you're sleeping Where I'm supposed to be in Wish I could've stayed

Despite the fact that you sang again in duet with the guitarist for Eddie there was only your voice with which you sent strong emotions that crept into his body tightening around his heart. It was as if these emotions turned into vines and trapped him in a strong grip from which he could not escape.

Only thing that keeps us apart Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone

So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning I'm coming home Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone

Without thinking much as soon as you finished the song and received thunderous applause he moved straight towards you. You stood with your back to him talking to Layla, who immediately noticed him and squinted her eyes watching his every forward step. Seeing your friend's strange look, you turned around to see what was causing it.

The world stopped. When your eyes met he smiled showing dimples in his cheeks, at the sight of which you were reminded of your beginnings.

"I swear I could live in them." You said laughing and kissing his entire face. "I love your dimples, I love your smile, I love you, Eddie Munson." That was the first time you confessed your love for him. When it occurred to you what you had done you opened your eyes wide and saw his smile become even wider. "That's good, because I love you too." he replied and kissed you passionately. "I have no intention of stopping, ever."

You didn't believe you would ever meet again. You didn't believe that you would ever again be close to the person for whom you were dying of longing. Now he was standing in front of you. Your Eddie. As an unconditional first reaction, a smile also appeared on your lips.

Unfortunately, you quickly came back to earth. This was not your Eddie. He hadn't been yours for a long time. He was hers. Suddenly all the people surrounding you in the bar were gone, you felt alone again, scared and hurt, surrounded by silence and emptiness. The heart that you had been trying to patch together for years had again turned into a dandelion whose parts were blown away by the wind to all parts of the world, so that nothing would be able to put them back together again. Again you felt liters of tears gathering in your eyes exactly as you did on the day when it was revealed that the new favorite couple in show business is the rebellious Eddie Munson and his complete opposite the charming and beautiful Chrissy Cunningham. The same Chrissy he assured you was just a friend and you had nothing to worry about. The same Chrissy he once had a crush on, but apparently that was in the past. The same Chrissy who, to Eddie, was supposed to be like Steve to you, the sibling you didn't have.

Without thinking twice, you turned on your heel and with a quick step walked out of the bar towards the beach. Of course, he moved right behind you when he felt a firm grip on his wrist and nails digging into it.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Layla exclaimed looking him straight in the eyes. "I won't let you close to her, not after what you did."

"You don't understand, let me go!" he said trying to break free.

"And what would your girlfriend say about it, hm? What would your little supermodel girlfriend say about it?"

"Fuck- just let me go! Let me explain it to her, you don't fucking understand!" Eddie was becoming more and more desperate. He understood why Layla was so protective of you, apparently you had to tell her everything, but neither you nor she knew the truth because you never gave him a chance to justify himself.

"Baby let them talk." Steve suddenly squeezed through the crowd. "It's been years, just let them talk."

"Really Steve? Are you fucking serious? Do you want to go through all this again? Do you want to let him destroy her like he did right after he left? Do you want her to lock herself in her room again for months and push us all away? She's barely learned to enjoy life and you want to let him destroy it again!"

"Listen-" said Eddie finally releasing his wrist. "I know what you're all thinking, and I can assure you that you're damn wrong, all of you! And I can explain it all to you but for heaven's sake let me talk to her first!"

Layla looked at Steve, who sent her a pleading look. She rolled her eyes and without a word squeezed between them walking away towards the bar clearly annoyed. Eddie turned to leave however felt Steve's hand tighten on his shoulder.

"Now you listen." he said with a serious face. "You're my friend and I believe you want to fix things and there's some strange explanation for all this. But I swear that if you break her heart again I won't even defend you when Layla wants to scratch your eyes out."

"I don't want to hurt her, I want to explain everything and make things right, you have to believe me, I love her, damn it Steve, I never stopped loving her."

Harrington just nodded his head and let him go. Quickly running outside, he looked around hoping that he would still be able to find you somewhere. After a while he spotted your silhouette sitting by the shore. He pulled off his shoes and socks and grabbed them in his hand to walk barefoot towards you and sit down next to you. Your knees were pulled up to your chin and your feet dipped into the soft sand. The murmur of the waves perfectly punctuated the sounds of the music and people in the distance. Their sound was soothing, it was easy for him to imagine that the beach, especially during sunsets was your favorite place. You fit perfectly there, and he had the fondest hope that someday he, too, would have a chance to fit back into the picture right by your side.

"What do you want Eddie?" you asked without taking your eyes off the water.

"I- I want to talk, to explain." he said quietly watching a small smile full of pain appear on your face.

"Explain what? That you were just waiting to get away from me and finally fall into the arms of your dream girl?"

"She is not- y/n I beg you, let me explain it all," he said.

"No. I don't want to hear it." you said rising, he did so as well. "I'm not going to listen to lies about how you loved me, and that's not at all what I think."

"What? you think I didn't love you?"

"You could only seem to have loved me since in your head it was Chrissy all the time anyway." The bitterness in your voice made him sick.

"Stop it. Fucking stop it." he said clenching his jaw. You could blame him for all the evils of the world, but to suggest that he never loved you was an overstatement. "Just listen to me, for the first time in three years listen to me and just start talking after that." he said.

"And what would you like to hear from me?! You heard the last song, didn't you? Would you like to hear that I wrote it thinking about you? You don't even know how many nights I wasted crying into my pillow and dreaming of those words coming out of your mouth! I agreed to this fucking break so that we could enjoy something new, but I didn't expect that I couldn't enjoy anything without you, I loved you so damn much Eddie. That's why I let you go completely and let you enjoy the life you always dreamed of. I'd a million times rather think about you fucking some random groupies on a tour bus every night than less than three months after our breakup to find out that the rising rock star is madly in love with super model Chrissy fucking Cunningham! You always said that my insecurities had no basis, that I shouldn't worry about the fact that you once had a crush on her, you kept telling me that she was just a fucking friend I definitely didn't need to worry about, and it turned out that as soon as you got rid of me from your life you immediately flew to her! Three years, it's been three fucking years and I still can't get over it! I hate that you have moved on and are living the best possible scenario. I hate that this scenario doesn't include me." You were fuming. Your glazed eyes looked at him with hatred. His sadness-filled eyes that you used to adore looking into so much. The full, pink lips that you loved so much to kiss and feel all over your body. The neck into which you cuddled your face after a hard day and kissed the wet paths on it. The pain you felt was increased the moment your attention was caught by the necklace hanging on it. Without thinking, you moved closer and pulled it out from under the collar of his shirt. He still had it. You looked at the pick and the ring in shock.

"y/n…" when his hand touched your cheek you flinched.

"You don't deserve to wear this." Anger darkened you completely, you tightened your fist around the necklace with all your strength and ripped it off.

"What the hell?" he asked shocked. He watched in disbelief as you threw the most precious thing in his entire life straight into the sand. He immediately crouched down to pick it up and put it safely in his pocket. His heart was breaking in half, feeling how he could not control his tears he quickly stood up walking straight towards you. At the last moment he managed to grab your hand.

"Don't touch me! Don't come near me because I can't stand it Eddie. If I let in one more time I will never be able to let you out again and that will kill me. You have your dream life, your dream girl, you don't need me, sometimes I think you never needed me." You said trying to break free.

"Don't say that! Don't you dare say that I never needed you! That I didn't love you! I loved you, I love you and I will love you for the rest of my fucking life!"

Before you had time to react in any way he pulled you to him and kissed you. The kiss had the taste of salty tears, but you weren't sure if they were yours or his. Despite the hatred you felt, you couldn't help how you surrendered to the moment by kissing him back. Your heart completely took over.

The moment didn't last long, though, as it was interrupted by a flash from the camera. Frightened, not knowing what was happening, you jumped away from him and looked in the direction from which the light appeared for the second time.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" shouted Eddie furiously walking towards the paparazzi. "You fuking piece of shit!" he sped up his stride. He felt like rushing at the paparazzi with his fists and then throwing the camera straight into the ocean. Unfortunately, the man turned out to be much faster and ran away. When he turned around, you were gone.

"Holy shit, you live here?" Robin looked with open mouth at the beautiful house with the ocean behind it.

"Yeah, with the boys, they gave me the whole basement so I could set up my own little apartment there, sharing a bathroom with four guys could be tough," laughed Chrissy. "Do you want to go inside?"

"Can we…Can we stay outside? I can't believe you have an ocean behind the house."

"Sure, let's go." she said and grabbed Robin's hand, leading her to the back of the house, where they sat on a wooden garden swing.

"This place is just like from a movie." commented Robin trying not to think about the fact that even though they had already sat down they were still holding hands.

"So, you wanna know the truth?" asked Chrissy uncertainly changing the subject. Robin nodded in response. "When I got the contract in New York, I thought I was winning my life, that I would finally be happy, finally all my dreams were coming true…" she sighed. "But I was quickly brought back down to earth. It turned out that my manager was homophobic, so I never dared to tell her the truth about myself."

"I'm so sorry…" Buckley squeezed her hand, to which she responded with a warm smile.

"The real nightmare began when they came up with an brilliant plan to promote me through a relationship with a sleazy fashion designer who was twenty years older. I didn't know what to do, so in a panic I lied that I had a boyfriend, and that's how I found myself in Eddie's apartment begging him for help. This was the first person I came out to and at that moment I thought I was going to die of nerves, I was wrecked and scared, and Eddie wasn't even shocked. He immediately understood and tried to calm me down. Then I proposed the whole plan with a pretend relationship. I needed someone reliable, and Eddie seemed perfect for that. We both ran away from Hawkins to start a new life in New York, the world immediately believed it, I didn't even know when we became the most recognizable couple in America and our careers just exploded."

Robin connected the dots in her head, everything the blonde said sounded crazy, but without knowing why she believed her. "I'm really glad you were able to get away from it all." she said quietly.

"If it weren't for Eddie my life would still look like a horror, I'll never be able to make it up to him…"

"He is a great friend." commented Robin, knowing that if she were in such a situation Steve would have done exactly the same thing. However, this did not stop the unpleasant feeling.

"I know what you're thinking and I feel terrible about it." Chrissy said, turning her head away. "I hate that by doing this to save myself I destroyed what Eddie had with y/n. She stopped talking to him, didn't respond to his letters, when Eddie agreed to the plan he said that the condition was that I would tell her everything, and I really wanted to do it as soon as possible! I was ready at any time to tell her the whole truth, but she didn't even give a chance to explain."

"Oh my God…" Robin bent her head back looking at the stars. She remembered what the first few months were like when Eddie and Chrissy's relationship became "offcial." You locked yourself in your room, went out only for classes and completely shut yourself off from people. Robin could hear the sounds of quiet sobs echoing around your apartment almost every night, but when she offered to be by your side at those times you just shooed her out of the room. You could have saved so much suffering if only you had given him a chance to explain. One little conversation a few years ago and things would look different now.

"You know, y/n is my best friend and in a way I understand her attitude. When we found out, we were all shocked, after all, everyone remembered that these two were madly in love with each other. Do you know about their arrangement? About the break?"

"I know, and I think you also know why we ended up in California after their tour ended," he said.

"I wish she'd let him explain it, everything would have looked completely different, and we wouldn't look so bad here now," she said.

"Maybe it could all be fixed? Maybe we could try to look good? When we moved here I broke my contract with that agency, I am now in a new one, which is not as well-known, but here they take care of me. My new manager knows everything and said that Eddie and I can end this whole pretending thing, but the label that handles Corroded Coffin isn't thrilled with the idea, so we're still in this, but Eddie is working on how to finally convince them to let us end it." she looked at her with hope in her eyes. They were so light and shiny under the gentle light of the moon and the stars. Robin's heart was melting.

She really wanted to believe that this had a chance of working, but she also knew that unless you let them tell you the truth nothing would be fully right.

The two sat in silence lost in thought as Chrissy moved closer to Robin.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly, resting her head on her shoulder.

"For how I was in high school. That I let Jason and his half-brains laugh at you. You didn't deserve it. I'd like to meet you under better conditions than the end of the world and struggling to survive."

"That's in the past, we can forget about it." she replied sincerely. Sitting now with Chrissy cuddled in her arms, she was able to forgive everything.

"I know it's crazy, but I feel like I'd like to try." Chrissy said quietly.

"Try what?" Robin pulled away sending her a surprised look.

"Us." As their eyes met, the world began to spin anew. Getting into a relationship with Chrissy was risky, they still didn't really know each other very well, but there was something, some invisible force that drew them to each other.

"How about a date when it will all be cleared out?" Buckley couldn't help herself, did that make her a bad friend? Now that she knew the truth she didn't feel as bad about it as she did at first.

"I would love to!" the excited blonde threw her arms around her neck pulling her close. When she pulled away, they were still close together. Sending nervous smiles in each other's direction once again, they began to move closer together. The gentle brushing of their lips was a hopeful sign. Before they could continue, though, they heard curses and the clink of keys. Intrigued, they went with the sound to see a furious Eddie who, with shaking hands, could not hit the door with his keys.

"Fucking bullshit!" he shouted banging his fist against it.

"Eddie? What happened?" asked Chrissy seeing the state her friend was in. Instead of at her, his eyes focused on Robin standing two steps away.

"Buckley? What are you doing here?" he asked puzzled.

"We, uh…" the girl didn't know what to say.

"I met Robin at the club and invited her here, I hope it's not a problem?" interjected Chrissy. "Give me the Keys." she said and opened the door. The three of them went inside. Eddie aggressively pulled off his shoes and threw his jacket into the closet with all his strength, but the jacket flew out of it a second later, and from the inside pocket of the jacket a small box that had been weighing him down all the way home.

"I was ready to fall to my fucking knees the moment I saw her." he said seeing the girls look at it in shock. After a moment, Robin picked it up and opened, showing the ring. "She thinks I never loved her. She thinks she has meant nothing to me all this time." his voice began to crack. "She hates me and didn't even give me a chance to explain it all. On top of that, that fucking paparazzi, I swear I'll kill the shithead as soon as I see him!" he walked toward the couch and sat down heavily on it, pulling a broken necklace from his pocket and placing it on the glass coffee table.

Chrissy looked at him with horrified eyes, she knew like no one else that Eddie cared about it like it was the most precious thing in whole world.

She approached slowly and knelt by the table taking it in her hands. Looking at her friend whose cheeks were streaming with tears, she couldn't help the guilt that had awakened in her. It was her fault, it was because of her that Eddie was losing the love of his life. "She said I didn't deserve to wear it." he said quietly. "She ripped it right off my neck." His voice was small, weak and helpless. "I love her so much, I never stopped Robin, you have to believe me." it was painful for him to have to keep assuring others of his love for you at every step, because no one wanted to believe him.

"I believe you." she said, sitting down next to him. "I know everything, Chrissy told me everything."

"She did?"

"Yeah, and now that I know everything, I want to help you. I'll try to convince y/n to give you a chance to explain everything."

"Thank you." he said hugging her tightly to himself.

"But now I should go, I don't want y/n to be alone today, I think you understand?"

"Of course, thank you Rob." he replied while wiping away tears.

"I'll call you a cab." offered Chrissy.

While they waited for the cab the girls exchanged phone numbers, Robin leaving promised to call as soon as she returns to the apartment. She also received a kiss on the cheek from Chrissy as a goodbye, which revived the butterflies in her stomach.

When she entered the apartment she noticed that the door to your room was ajar, peeking in there she noticed that you were asleep. Not wanting to wake you up, she just called the number she got earlier, toold them that she didn't talk to you because you had fallen asleep and went to bed herself as well, wondering how to clean up the mess you all found yourselves in.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @tlclick73 @greatpizzascissorstaco @alanamarie @hiscrimsonangel

[jackhues]

uh... tuesday? - jamie drysdale

request: could you do a jamie drysdale fic where they get into an argument, and jamie says stuff he doesn’t mean, but then at the very end they apologize and it’s like fluff 

requested by: anon : )

notes: not sure how much i like the ending, but the rest of it was fun! thanks for requesting <3

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @l0veforhugh3s <3 || join my taglist!

gif not mine!

you tapped your foot nervously.

it was nearly eight o’clock, and you and jamie had agreed to meet here at seven. although the place wasn’t too fancy, it was fancy enough that people began to notice you waiting on someone. 

“ma’am, are you still ordering?” the waitress came back for the fifth time. 

you sighed, finally admitting to yourself that jamie wasn’t going to show. “i’ll just take some of the chocolate cake.”

the waitress’ eyes softened marginally, and she nodded, bringing your cake back quickly.

you ate numbly, wondering why the hell jamie had been so adamant on a date today. it was your two-year anniversary, but you were alright celebrating later on in the week. the ducks had just come back from a long and sad road trip yesterday, and you wanted jamie to be rested and happy for your small celebration. he disagreed, saying he wanted to do it on the day. you gave in, mainly because he seemed so excited about something for the first time in a long time.

i shouldn’t have agreed, you thought to yourself as you made your way into the car. if you hadn’t agreed, you wouldn’t have been embarrassed in front of so many people.

you made your way to your apartment, locking the door behind you. jamie was nowhere to be found. you opened your phone, scrolling through a wave of unanswered texts to jamie from your end.

annoyed and angry, you slipped out of your dress, scrubbing your makeup off and changing into your pajamas. you climbed into bed early, still no answer from jamie. 

it must’ve been around midnight when you felt the bed dip, rousing you.

you lifted your head, being shushed by jamie as he apologized loudly for waking you up. you ignored him, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. turning the lamp on, you blinked at jamie’s dishevelled appearance.

he smelt like alcohol. 

while you’d been stood up by your boyfriend on your anniversary (because he wanted to do it the day of), he’d been out drinking.

“where have you been?” you asked, barely trying to keep your voice down.

“out with the guys,” he merely answered. he wasn’t drunk yet, but he smelled strongly of alcohol. 

“do you know what last night was?” you asked, crossing your arms. you’d cooled off as you slept, but jamie’s nonchalant attitude was starting to get you mad and annoyed all over again.

“uh… tuesday?” he guessed.

“it was our anniversary,” you corrected him. “you’d told me to meet you at the restaurant at seven o’clock, remember?”

you watched jamie rack his messy thoughts, trying to remember. his eyes widened briefly as he realized what you were talking about.

“oh right!” he snapped his fingers. he began to pull the blanket over himself, “that was last night? i forgot.”

outraged, you pulled the blanket back. 

“it was your idea!” you yelled.

“what the fuck, y/n?!” he was shouting too now. “it’s a stupid mistake, who cares? we can go tomorrow.”

“that was what i had planned out,” you reminded him. “but then you decided no, let’s go out on the day of our anniversary. this was your idea,” you jammed your finger in his chest. “the least you could do is be there for it.”

“great, i’m the bad guy,” he rolled his eyes. “you’re just overreacting. let’s talk about this in the morning.”

you scoffed as jamie turned his back on you, pulling the blanket over himself.

you felt like the reaction you’d had was very appropriate. not only did he forget, you were embarrassed in front of a group of people. sure, you’d never see them again, but it wasn’t good for your come-and-go confidence.

grabbing your pillow, you yanked the blanket off of jamie as you got off the bed.

“holy shit, y/n! i thought we said we’ll talk about it tomorrow?!” he sat up, reaching for the blanket. he blinked twice at the sight of you leaving the room with the blanket and your pillow.

“y/n?” he called. “y/n? where are you going?”

you didn’t answer, setting your pillow and blanket on the couch. you’d just gotten settled when the blanket was yanked off of you.

“what do you want, jamie?” you groaned, reaching for the blanket.

“why are you sleeping here?” he asked.

“i don’t want to sleep in the same bed as you right now,” you answered. “i’m mad and annoyed, and i might do something stupid.”

“like smother me in my sleep?” he furrowed his brows.

you almost laughed out loud, freezing when you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him.

“maybe,” you answered instead.

jamie studied you for a second, the realization that this was something you weren’t happy about, finally making its way to his slow brain.

“go sleep on the bed,” he said finally, nudging you.

“huh?”

“i’ll take the couch. you go sleep on the bed,” he told you.

you appreciated the concern, but shook your head anyways. sure you were a little stubborn, but he deserved this. “i don’t want to. now give me the blanket back.”

jamie sighed, deciding you weren’t going to give in. he climbed on top of you, throwing the blanket over you two.

“jamie!” you yelled, swatting him as he tried to fit the two of you on the couch. 

you ended up lying on top of him more than the sofa. you were tired and cold, and jamie was warm and for that moment, all the anger you felt disappeared.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair. “i’m an idiot, who should know better than to try and plan something. you weren’t overreacting.”

“i was a little,” you admitted softly.

jamie laughed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with you. 

“i’m sorry too,” you told him. “for stealing the blanket from you.”

“it’s okay,” he grinned, the two of your laughter echoing through the walls of your home.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

🥺🥺 I need more sub Chris thots for ghosted 👁 see those tags 🫠🫠 srsly tho only if you have time 👉🏻👈🏻

related to this and the tags on this post

I don't really have the time but I have to get these thoughts outta my head lmao so, yes, subby Chris/Cole (Chris' character's name) and domme Ana/Sadie (the name of the character Ana is playing)--

He 100% makes tiny little sounds every time she shoves him around. When he's manhandled he can't help but gasp and whine and make other breathless noises. It's NOT an appropriate moment for him to pop a boner, being pressed into a wall or the ground or whatever while in real life, actual, non-joke danger but he can't really help it. It just happens 😳

(He also makes sounds when she tries to clean him up after they're out of danger. The rubbing alcohol stings! The bandages put pressure on his bruises and it hurts! His muscles ache! She threatens to hold him down if she has to because she's not letting him get infections later. She's also not gonna wait for him later if he's still tending his own wounds, unfamiliar with how to do it correctly and efficiently. He... uh... might have to take her up on the holding down thing.)

He's already so stupid... so, can you imagine how fucking stupid [affectionate] he becomes when he's turned on? Baby 👏🏻 is 👏🏻 fuck 👏🏻 dumb 👏🏻

I can so see him on top of her thrusting into her, basically just humping her while he's face first into her boobs as she grabs his hair tightly, telling him just how she wants to be fucked. He may be dumb but he knows how to use that fucking dick... or, he knows how to use it when she encourages him, he's kinda perfectly pathetic without direction 🥴

If she calls him a good, pretty boy while eating pussy and he will expire. No more thoughts, only horny. No higher functioning.

Speaking of him being pretty and thoughtless, I feel like he has such a huge praise kink but also a huge dumbification kink. He's so pretty and stupid. Simple and just good for giving her what she needs.

One time she ropes him into going with her on a low-stakes undercover mission... his only job is to look pretty as her *cough* arm candy *cough* "plus one" while she flirts and gains information from the high-class male partygoers. So, to keep him entertained, she puts his cock in a cage and keeps the key around her neck as part of her glamorous outfit. All night he loses focus every time he catches a glance at that key. He can feel his cock twitch in his slacks, trying and failing to get hard in the unforgiving cage. She... if he's lucky... might take him to the bathroom and put him on his knees for her, but there's no way he's getting out of that cage while they're on a mission. It's serious business.

Last thought: him getting pegged 🥴🥴 The first time she bottoms out inside him, he can't help but press back onto her strap, twisting the sheets in his fists, with his mouth falling wide open as he helplessly blurts out, "oh, g-god, it feels good!" And she can't help but laugh because, duh, it feels good. She's fucking him. That's the whole point. But, fuck, she loves it too. She loves making him even dumber than usual. She loves making his pretty face go entirely slack with pleasure, not a thought in sight.

So... yes. Subby Ghosted Chris.

Photo from @/thetrashstache because I wanted to see it again 👀

Did I probably way exaggerate his himbo-ness? Yeah. Am I sorry? No. I mean, come on, who doesn't love a pathetic little man? 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Thanks for the ask!

[blatantescapism]

Ah yes, it’s that special day where once again I find myself wondering what the ever-living fuck Joe Finigan was thinking.

This is the story of how I utterly failed to have the appropriate emotional reaction to 9/11. Mind the trigger tags. I’d add more but I ran out. This story is insensitive by nature and I probably shouldn’t share it, but it’s also such a weird slice of American life that I kinda feel like I gotta.

So, context.

Columbine happened in 1999, when I was in 5th grade. Schools across the US started to be like, “hm, maybe it’s time to actually address this issue somehow.” Our elementary school brought in some random police officers to talk about it. Police who, if anything, had been trained in how to make kids more traumatized.

We didn’t have active shooter drills back then. They were just like, “Hey kids, I want you to imagine this fucked up scenario that I am vividly describing. What would you do if it happened to you? Do you have a Plan? Will you be able to stick to your Plan even while your classmates are screaming? You should think about it hard, in graphic detail, so that when the time comes you won’t hesitate to make Tough Choices. Breaking your leg because you jumped out a window is still better than being dead! Listen to this story of a girl who hid under a desk, but then the gunman found her and she couldn’t escape because there was no room to maneuver and so she was trapped and the gunman shot her while she bravely said her prayers, we have a weird creepy obsession with painting the victims as modern Christian martyrs and we totally invented the entire story but you won’t realize that for at least a decade. And remember: don’t run in a straight line, run in zigzags so that you’re harder to shoot.”

So yeah, that was 1999, we were 11 years old, and we took that shit very much to heart.

Two years later, it’s 2001. There have been 15 new US school shootings in that time. My sister and I are in middle school, it’s early in the school year but we’ve started to get into a normal rhythm,

Suddenly there is a totally unexpected blare on the intercom. It’s Principal Joe Finigan, he is about to make the most significant announcement of his career, and for some fucking reason he decides that THIS is the best thing to say:

“There has been a, uh, a terrible tragedy. Everyone should go home now. Uh, ask your parents what happened. As far as we know, we are not a target at this time.” Click.

We don’t have any other sources of information. The teachers aren’t telling us what’s going on, but some are crying.

Obviously there must have been a school shooting in town. But what the hell did he mean by “as far as we know, we are not a target at this time”? That makes it sound like the gunman is still at large. Is this a sniper situation? Is it even safe to walk home? Are we going to have to line up in the office and take turns using the school telephone to call our parents?

We cautiously head outside, and there’s a line of parents already out there waiting in their cars to pick their kids up. Oh shit, it must be bad. Was it the kindergarten? Or the Catholic prep school?

Our mom is upset. She says she doesn’t want to talk about it while driving. She’ll show us the news on the TV when we get home.

We get home and steel ourselves to face the news, fully expecting to see the names of close friends and neighbors listed among the dead.

So please imagine how appalled our dear mother is when we say, “Wait a minute- all this fuss is because some buildings are on fire in a completely different state?!”

“As far as we know, we are not a target at this time.”

Dear Joe Finigan. What the fuck made you say that. Please tell me, did you genuinely imagine terrorists being like

“At this time, our target is the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. But next, we shall target a mediocre school in a bland suburban town that nobody has ever heard of! Ohoho! Ah hah ha ha!”

Anyway, there’s something to be said about how after both events, the US response was, “You see, this is why we need more guns. We tooootally promise they’ll only be used to hurt Bad Guys! After all, we’re the Good Guys! USA! USA!”

[ofallthelostdogs]

Lost and Found

i think it feels appropriate that the first chapter posted on here introduces a new (and slightly old) character. with lots of fun backstory.

word count: 5,835

TW: female whumper (briefly there, does no actual harm while there), running away, interrogation (kind of), memory loss, past whump, uhh. i think that’s it!

tldr its not really whumpy, a sweet boy runs away from his owner and finds an azure shelter to help him. tagging @spookyboywhump bc naturally. also shoutout to allen for helping write this bc my brain is MUSH. mush i tell you. i havent posted a writing in so fucking long uh. eenjoy.

-edwin

~~~

The plan was solid, if he didn't mess it up. He had counted the minutes second by second, every day until he was certain he would get it right.

She got up, showered and made coffee. He waited patiently for her to collect him, to bring him downstairs and make breakfast. He helped cook like always, and laughed quietly along to her chit-chat. His heart raced in his chest, his throat tight with anxiety.

"Will you collect the mail for me, sweetness?" She asked. Lost smiled gently and stood up, nodding his head. It was almost over. Finally, it was almost over.

He fetched the mail quickly, hurrying back to her side so as not to arouse suspicion. She wouldn't notice a thing for hours, if everything went according to plan. She was going to leave for work after breakfast and reading the news. It took her an hour to get to and from work on a good day, and about a half hour more if the traffic was bad, which it always was on a Monday. He wanted as much time as he could get.

His owner kissed him goodbye as she left, grabbing her purse and her coat and leaving a bright red stain on his forehead. She waved as she closed the door, and locked it behind her like always.

As if he hadn't learned how to unlock it.

Once she was gone it was time. Lost hurriedly made his way to the bathroom, rubbing the lipstick off of his face as quickly as he could and tossing the wipe into the bin.

He needed something to hide his collar, which took the form of one of his owner's scarves, wrapped around his neck with the hopes of it covering his face enough to bypass anyone recognizing him. It was soft, and as he stared into the mirror he stroked the fabric and paused.

Was he really making the right choice? What if she was angry, oh and she would be. She could have someone track him down, he could be dragged back kicking and screaming and she would hurt him, punish him for his disobedience, because how dare he leave her like that?

Well, wasn't that the point? She had told him his mother was cruel, that she rescued him but… he couldn't remember anything before her. His whole life was just… blank. Every memory erased. Nothing came before her, not in his memory, or in his life. There had to be an after. He needed there to be.

She wouldn't have heard him anyways, but Lost always found himself creeping down the stairs as if every little creak of the wood was going to summon her, and she would see him and know he was going to leave. His stomach turned at the thought, making him nauseous. It would take at least an hour before she was home even if she found out, that was why he chose today. He had even checked her bag the night before to ensure she wouldn't forget anything, and hidden a twenty dollar bill from her wallet in his favourite pair of shoes.

Lost wasn't sure how long he stared at the door, willing himself to build the courage to unlock it. Once he made it past the driveway he was set, he could get anywhere he needed to. He had even written down the directions to the nearest Azure shelter, a name he recognized from her scorn of the company's mission.

How dare people want to be free.

He barely recognized his own hands as he reached in front of him, pressing numbers into a keypad and hoping she hadn't changed the passcode. She got notifications on her phone if he pressed the wrong number, and he knew that she would never let him forget his mistake if she caught him.

1-2-0-8

The keypad lit up green, and a high pitched chime signaled as the lock clicked open. Lost blinked, almost unbelieving. It was working.

He was going to get out.

It chimed again as he shut the door behind him, and he flinched. All he had to do was punch the code back in, and she wouldn't know he had left until she was inside after work and it was far too late to find him again. One two oh eight.

One two oh eight.

1-2-0-8

It beeeped at him when it locked shut, and he smiled slightly. He was almost free, for real. No more false promises.

Lost turned on his heel and began to walk down the driveway, cutting over the front lawn and slipping through a break in the fence that he had found months prior. Conveniently hidden by hedges and his owner's precious flower bushes.

He looked at the house for a moment as he walked away and pondered. Anxiety sat like lead in his stomach, still unsure of whether or not he was making the right choice. He had to be, right? None of his fears could be as bad as she was. He could be a person, on his own, if he wanted to. He just needed to learn.

He just needed the chance.

***

It took him longer than he had expected.

By the time Lost made it to the shelter the sun was much higher in the sky than when he began, and his mouth and throat were dryer than he could ever remember. His legs felt weak and his head felt light, making him dizzy. He imagined the scarf wasn't helping, as the sun beat down on him he was sweating hard enough to soak the front of his shirt. 

He promised himself it would be worth it. 

The shelter was at the end of a very inconspicuous block, and the only things marking it as anything besides an ordinary apartment complex were the security measures and small Azure logo above the door. Lost faltered as he saw two large men standing outside, the bravery he had built up wilting and cowering at the sight, at the idea of what they could do to him. One of them took notice and watched him backtrack for a moment, before calling out. 

"Do you need help?" 

Lost stood in place. Yes, he wanted to cry. Yes, yes please, please help me. Save me. I need help. His hands shook, along with his legs. He had walked too far to turn back, too far to hide and run back to his owner with his tail between his legs like a dog. 

He stepped forward and nodded. The man quietly acknowledged his hesitation, crouching down slightly when he spoke again. 

"Did someone hurt you?" Another nod. 

The man smiled sympathetically at him, and Lost noticed a collar similar to his around his throat, with a shiny silver plate that said Zander at the front. 

"We can help you, you don't have to rush but… when you're ready, we can go inside and I can get you help. You came to the right place." Zander said. 

Lost nodded, slowly coming closer. "I- I, I don't… I don't wanna be owned any muh-more…

He collapsed just a few steps away from Zander, who caught him and held him close, feeling how violently he shook. "You're gonna be okay," He murmured. "I promise, nobody is gonna hurt you again." 

Zander adjusted his hold on the boy and stood up, lifting him easily. The security guard he had been talking to opened the door for them and shot him a sad smile, familiar with the fragile state of many rescued and escaped victims. 

"Thanks." Zander acknowledged. He scanned a card that unlocked a more secure, interior door and pulled it open, hitching the small boy in his arms up to not drop him.

Alondra noticed him coming back in immediately and rushed to his side, standing on her toes to get a look at the boy he carried. 

“He just showed up.” Zander explained to her, and she nodded, understanding right away. 

“He looks exhausted,” She said, looking at Lost sympathetically, “here, come with me.” She told him, and Zander followed her as she led them back to a more private room. Zander was able to sit Lost down in a chair but he didn’t seem quite ready to leave his side, hesitant to do so at first when Alondra instructed him to go grab the boy something to drink. 

He did so after a moment regardless, and Alondra looked at Lost worriedly, asking him, “Would you be okay with removing your scarf? You must be really hot…” She spoke softly and gently, not wanting to pressure him into anything.

Lost nodded slowly, reaching up slowly to unwrap it. "I… d-didn't want… anyone t-to notice… it…" He mumbled, gesturing at the collar around his throat when he pulled his owner's scarf away. He wanted to hold it, despite all of his sense telling him not to. It was her's, not his, and he didn't want it. 

He tossed it across the room to dispel his desire to cling to it, to his life as a pet. He wanted out. "C-can you help me t-take it off? I- I don't, I can't, it, it's locked…" 

“Of course.” She told him, getting closer to get a better look at the lock. “It might take us a little bit to get it off but we’ll find a way, I promise.” She assured him. 

Zander came back shortly after, bringing Lost a nice cold water bottle which he handed to him right away. 

“I called Eli while I was out there.” He told Alondra.

“That’s good, he should be able to help us get this collar off him.” She said. 

Lost watched the two of them tiredly, holding the bottle in his hands. It was so cold, it felt nice. He held it to his forehead instead of opening it, breathing slowly. "Uh, um. Um, excuse me," He spoke up. "Wuh- what t-time is it?" 

Zander looked down at his phone. "It's uh… just about twelve." Lost sighed with relief. His owner wouldn't be home for hours yet. 

"Th-thank you…" He said, smiling politely. Finally he opened his bottle of water, having cooled off enough to feel present again. The cold water was a welcome relief, soothing his parched throat. The poor boy was so small his feet barely touched the ground, and he kicked them slightly and shut his eyes happily as he drank.

They gave him time to cool down, knowing he must be tired. They still had to wait for Elias to get there before they could even attempt to get that collar off of him. Alondra let him drink, waiting until he had finished before trying to make him speak again. 

"So, can you tell us what we should call you?” She asked. Though she could easily check the collar around his neck, she didn’t want to assume that was the name he’d choose to answer to.

The boy looked at her with wide eyes, seeming to mull it over for a second before answering. 

"Muh- my name is, um, my n-name is Lost…" He said quietly. He looked down at his feet as he said it, almost ashamed to admit that he had been so far gone as to be named by his owner. He wrung his hands together nervously, hoping with all his might that these two would continue this level of kindness, that his many shortcomings weren't going to earn him lashings, or the silent treatment for days. Worse still was his owner saying she was disappointed in him, sitting him down to tell him all the ways he's failed her in the past… well, however long it had been since she did it last. 

However neither of them seemed shaken by his response, and he let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't his fault that his name was Lost, or that his real name had really been lost to time. He was Lost, or sweetness, although the latter made his skin crawl. He shivered slightly. 

 “Alright, Lost,” She said with a smile, “my name is Alondra, and you’ve met Zander.” She said, gesturing to him. “Once our friend gets here they’ll probably have some questions for you, but you don’t need to feel like you have to answer anything you’re not ready to, they’ll understand.” 

He nodded. These people seemed nice enough, and although he was in an unfamiliar place he was already feeling better about his decision than earlier that morning. It was smart of him to leave early, the kind of thought that would have gone unappreciated by his owner, and her constant efforts to keep him feeling and behaving like a child. 

 After some time passed there was a knock on the door, and Zander commented on how that must be Eli before telling him to come in. Elias opened the door, taking a step inside but he seemed to pause in the doorway, looking directly at Lost. He almost looked a little bit confused, his head tilted to the side just slightly, but he caught himself and smiled at him, trying his best to appear friendly. 

 “Hello there.” He said to him, closing the door behind him. “Zander told me you came here looking for help?” He asked, trying to get a good understanding of the situation.

Lost nodded. He was quiet, and hadn't said a word since telling them his name. When he did speak, his voice was soft. He almost seemed afraid to speak above a whisper. "I- I wanna… I wanna be, um, I…" 

He stumbled over his words for a minute, getting frustrated with himself the more he stuttered, and the frustration seemed to make it worse. Eventually he gave up, puffing his cheeks out and sighing and settling for another nod. 

 “It’s alright.” Alondra said to him softly, trying to be reassuring, before she looked to Eli. “He needs help with this collar, it’s locked.” Alondra told him. 

 “I thought that might be an issue.” Eli said as he stepped closer, stopping before he actually got close enough to touch the collar. “Is it alright if I touch you?” He asked Lost. “I should be able to get this off, I haven’t found a lock I couldn’t figure out yet, I just need to take a look at it first.”

"P-please… please g-get it off of me…" Lost whimpered, lowering his head. "I… I don't, I don't want it… please t-take it off." 

 “Don’t worry, I’ll try to do this as quickly as I can.” Eli told him, still being very careful as he checked the lock. He’d come prepared for this scenario, as this wasn’t the first time somebody needed to be freed from a locked collar. 

The collar was simple, leather stained a light purple collar with thick blue stitching. The lock hung off the back, with a little heart shaped tag on the front that read Sweetness. Lost had never seen the other side of the tag, but he had been told that it said his owner's name, in case he managed to escape her and was found by some well meaning individual.

And just like Elias had promised, he was able to get it off rather quickly, and immediately handed the collar over to Zander to take a look at the tag. “We can get rid of that for you, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.” Eli assured him.

Lost's hands shot up to his throat, touching the skin that had been covered for years now. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. He looked up at Elias and his eyes shone, the hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. 

"Thank you…" He mumbled, his hands gently placed against his throat. He could barely believe the feeling, the freedom of having his throat unbarred and unhidden. The last restraint, the one constant reminder of his ownership, of his place. Finally gone. And so quickly, he barely had the time to process it before it was taken away from him, before he would never see it again. 

For a moment, he regretted tossing the scarf away from him. 

He almost hoped that his owner had been lying about putting her name and address on his collar, and that they wouldn't be able to find her. He almost didn't want her to know that he was gone at all, and wished he could somehow leave without really doing so. A part of him knew deep down, that there was something wrong with how he had been treated, that he was not a pet, or a child, or anyone's property. 

He didn't watch what Zander did with his collar, and put his head back down, pulling his knees to his chest with the hope that curling in on himself would protect him. 

He couldn't imagine finding someone in his state and returning them to the name listed on their collar. He could imagine a thousand scenarios, but all of them ended the same way; with that person as far away from any "owner" as they could possibly get.

Now that the collar was dealt with, Elias pulled up one of the chairs so he could sit across from Lost, so he wouldn’t be standing over him anymore. He didn’t try to make him look at him, but he was closer to being on his level and he spoke to him kindly, being very careful with what he said. 

“I know you’re probably tired, and we’ll let you rest as soon as we can, but we would like to ask you some questions if that’s okay?” Eli asked him. “We’d appreciate anything you’d be willing to tell us.”

Lost looked up at him through his eyelashes and nodded slightly. "Uhuh," He whimpered, and sat up a little straighter. He focused on Elias' freckles, the scar on his face, anything to avoid looking him directly in the eye. "I- I can."

 “If you’re comfortable with it, what can you tell us about the person who did this to you?” Eli asked him gently. 

 “We’ll look into the name on the collar, but if there’s anything else you can tell us that you think would help, that would be good.” Zander added.

"I…" Lost began, looking immediately anxious. "I, I don't… know. She, she's my owner… um, wuh- what do you wanna… know?" 

 “I guess we should start with how she got you in that situation to begin with. Did you know her before or was she just a stranger?” Eli asked him.

"Um…" He scrunched up his face uncomfortably. "I… don't… remember. I- I'm sorry." 

 “That’s alright,” Eli said, “Even if you can’t remember now, if you do remember anything later you can always tell somebody then, everything helps. Is there anything at all you can remember from before you were with her? Any family or friends? We’ll try our best to contact them for you.”

Lost's expression grew more frustrated, puffing out his cheeks again. For years now it had been the more he focused on it, the less he was able to recall. He could remember a terrifying, filthy cell and his hands restrained above him. He remembered being beaten, and screaming for help, and then… nothing. Nothing before, and nothing after until waking up on his owner's carpet; terrified and shivering only to be brought into her arms. 

He could remember her petting his hair, holding him and comforting him. He remembered her giving him the name of her sweet little lost pet. But nothing else. Nothing but her. 

"I… I remember my… my Miss, I…" Lost placed his hands on the back of his neck and whined quietly, starting to rock back and forth. "I remember Miss. I- I don't… know about… before her. I j-just, I just don't… it's not… there."

 “Hey, it’s okay.” Eli said gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out. We can stop or take a break if you’d like, we only have to keep going if you want to.”

Lost whined again, putting his head between his knees. "I, I… just, I just rem'mber g-getting… hurt… I… rem'mber waking up… 'nd she was there, Miss wuh, was there 'nd… and… and I don't… have anything… before. Just, just her."

 “It’s alright,” Elias said softly, leaning forward in his seat just slightly. “You don’t need to force yourself, I understand. We can talk about anything else, we can leave this alone.” He told him, trying his best to stay calm and calm him down as well at the same time, he couldn’t stand seeing him so distressed. “We don’t need to worry about before until later, right now and how you’re doing is much more important.”

Lost sniffled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. "I," He stammered, eyes welling up with tears. "I don't wuh, wanna be useless… I, I'm sorry… I just… I just wanna go home…" 

Eli's heart panged. It wasn't going to be easy to get any actual information out of him, least of all because he seemed to not know any. The poor boy was already so distraught, it was almost a wonder how he had gotten all the way here on his own. 

"I shouldn't hah, have left…" He mumbled, shaking his head. 

“That’s not true, it’s good that you’re here, we’ll keep you safe.” Eli told him. “We don’t need to rush anything.” He looked around worriedly, but it wasn’t uncommon for new rescues to be emotional, and Alondra had already grabbed a box of tissues and offered it to Lost. 

 “Here, it’s okay to take a break if you need to.” She assured him gently. “No matter what you can or can’t tell them, you’re still going to be safe here.”

He took the tissues with a soft little "thank you," and began wiping his face, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. It took him a few minutes, sitting in silence and wiping at his face occasionally.

"M-miss is, um, she…" Lost began carefully. "She's… pretty. Um, she hah, has light hair, l-like, real light. And, and blue eyes like, like mine. She… she isn't muh, much bigger than me. She… she wears pretty dr-dresses, and shoes that make her t-taller. Her friends are… scary…" 

He paused for a minute and squeezed his eyes shut, balling his hands into fists and slowing down his breathing. 

"Her friends… do b-big, big bad work. Th-that… that's where I think… I came from. They… all have… pets…" He lowered his voice, as if the word itself was dirty, tainted by these people and their actions. "One of them h-hated me… I, I dunno why." 

“Hated you?” Elias asked, his eyebrows raised. He briefly glanced at Zander, wondering if he was thinking the same thing he was, the other man seemed just as intrigued by this. The thought that had been at the back of his head since the second he saw Lost was bothering him more now, he took his phone from his pocket and only searched for a minute to find the picture, almost hesitant to show it to him. “I’m sorry, you said her friends did bad work, do you… do you recognize this man…?” He asked him, showing him a picture of Nicholas Fairfax.

Lost's face dropped, the courage he had just built up leaving him in an instant. He pushed himself back in his chair, his breathing kicking up into quick, panicked breaths. He whined loudly, pulling his hands up to his chest protectively. 

"Uhuh," He whimpered, nodding. "I, I, I h-hate him, I hate him, he's, he's so mean. He doesn't, he doesn't t-tell the truth!" Lost buried his face in his hands, shaking his head and whimpering. "He's a buh, bully! And his pet is t-too…" 

 “I was worried you would say that…” Eli scowled, quickly putting his phone away so that Lost wouldn’t have to see the image again. “I’m so sorry that they treated you that way, but you won’t have to worry about him or his pet anymore. The fact you knew who he was is helpful on its own, so thank you for telling me.” He had to remind himself to stay calm, he could be upset later, right now he just needed to focus on Lost and trying to keep him comfortable. 

"He… he's m-mister Fairfax. I… I'm not allowed to c-call him by his um, his first name." Lost said quietly. "Good boys um, d-don't." He added, almost as an afterthought. 

 “Did you… have to spend a lot of time with him?” Eli asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer to that.

"Not… at first." Lost chose his words carefully. "I… I wasn't… allowed to. For, for a while. I… I d-disobeyed. And, and I th-thought… he would be nice to, to me. When, when I was wrong… miss didn't care anymore. Cus, cus it was… it was m-my fault." He wrung his hands nervously, looking at Elias. He didn't trust them, not yet, all that he had heard about the company from his owner's angry ranting was that they took pets away, away from where they belonged. He didn't have any idea what was done with them afterwards. 

"She j-just kept, kept leaving me wuh, with him. All the t-time. Cus I earned it and, and she had, had places to g-go." 

 “I’m… I’m sorry… that wasn’t your fault, you never deserved any of that…” He told him. He tried to be careful about what he said, he didn’t always know what would or wouldn’t upset somebody in this situation, but he hated to think he believed he’d earned or deserved any of what happened. It sounded like pretty standard behaviour from Nicholas, but he didn’t want to comment on that to him either.

"Miss t-told me I did," Lost said, as if that made it fact. "She said I'm b-bad, and, and he said so t-too. They, they're… smarter than m-me." 

 “Well… I don’t think you’re bad… and neither of them are going to bother you here, we’ll make sure of that.” Eli said. He wanted to tell him that they were wrong, he was never bad no matter what they said, they weren’t smarter just because they acted like it, but he didn’t want to overwhelm him, no matter how angry he was that they made him think that way.

"They're mean," Lost replied. "They… th-they suck! I, I don't l-like them." He had finally settled on sitting with his knees up, his arms crossed and his chin resting on them. He pushed his face into his arms, covering his eyes and sighing heavily. 

Really, he wasn't sure how he felt. His mind felt strangely blank, although his heart raced and his eyes watered. He wasn't… upset, but he wasn't happy about it, either. Everything seemed so overwhelming. He wanted the questions to end, his head hurt and he was so tired, and hungry, the more he focused the more he realized just how much of a mess he was. He was exhausted, and covered in sweat, his feet, legs and back ached so badly, and his scars burned. He wanted to lay down on the floor and let it swallow him, but the effort of moving even that far made him want to cry. He hurt. 

"I… I don't wanna do th-this anymore puh, please…" Lost whimpered, burying his face further in his arms. "I'm so tired…"

 “That’s okay, you don’t have to.” Eli quickly assured him. “Alondra can go make sure a space is ready for you, and we can let you get cleaned up and bring you some new clothes and then you can relax.” He told him. “You can take all the time you need to rest, we don’t need to rush anything.”

Lost nodded, too tired to do much else. All of the exhaustion he was feeling before seemed to have doubled, and he barely stopped himself from falling asleep in his chair. 

Alondra headed off to set up a room, while Elias left with the promise to return with clean clothes and towels. Zander stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, having not been given a task he seemed to remain stationary, his hands in his jacket pockets and his eyes fixed on the floor. Occasionally he would rock on the balls of his feet, scanning the room while Lost stayed in place.

He was far too tired to move. Presumably, he was going to be offered a shower but the thought only exhausted him more, if only partially because he wasn't used to bathing himself anymore. After four years of being babied and doted on for every little thing, he wasn't quite sure where to begin taking care of himself. 

Alondra returned fairly quickly, the same gentle, yet friendly smile on her face that she had offered while he struggled to answer Elias' questions. 

"I've got a room with a bed for you, if you want to come with me," She said softly. Lost whined. "You don't have to shut the door if you don't want to, we won't lock you in. And you aren't sharing with anyone, it's just for you." 

Lost continued to whine, rubbing his eyes against his arms. He produced an array of colourful explosions behind heavy eyelids, trying with all his might to keep himself awake. He shook his head, grunting in disagreement as he found that words simply refused to obey him. 

"Do you want me to carry you again?" Zander spoke up, taking a step out of the corner. Lost mulled it over for a moment. Fresh clothes and a bed did sound better than curling up in his current state, on that chair no less. He groaned something resembling a yes and looked up tiredly, eyes red and puffy. He reached out to Zander with both arms, and Zander picked him up easily. The boy weighed next to nothing, clearly his owner and Nicholas hadn't been doing a great job of keeping him fed, which wasn't uncommon. 

Zander followed Alondra down the hallway, up a flight of stairs and around a corner to a hall with many rooms coming off of it, each one having either a blank tag beside the door, or the occupied ones with names hastily scribbled in. 

They arrived at a door recently labeled with his name, in a curly, swirling text that he could only assume was Alondra's. Inside was a bed, a table and chair, and a small dresser. Lost noticed a closet around the corner when Zander put him down on the bed, with empty hangers ready to be filled. 

His own room. 

The most his owner had given him was a kennel.

Elias came back quickly, carrying the items he had promised as well as a small stuffed shark, which he handed to Lost with a shy smile. 

"You don't have to want it, or like it, but… I always find hugging them helps me calm down. I thought you might like one." 

Lost stared at the small blue plush, with its embroidered black eyes and sharp white teeth. It smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back a little. He tucked it into the bed beside his pillows and smiled at Elias, his eyes shut with sleepiness. 

Eli smiled back, and placed the towels and clothes on the bed bedside Lost. 

"I got you some sweatpants and a tee shirt as well, um, there wasn't a lot of options so they're blue and gray. I hope that's okay. The showers are just down the hall to your right, there's signs in case you get mixed up too." He explained, gesturing to the general direction of the showers. 

"Th-thank you…" Lost mumbled, stifling a yawn. "I… I think 'm too… sleepy… though… um…"

"Oh, that's okay!" Eli exclaimed, not wanting Lost to feel pressured. "You can do whatever you'd like." 

"I…" Lost continued. "I wanna… um… new… n-new clothes… and… and… slee… sleepy…" He paused for a minute, looking down at his feet nervously. After a moment he looked at Elias again, big blue puppy eyes pouting up at him from the bed. "Wuh, will you… st-stay with… me? I… I don't… want m-miss to… to find me… please…" 

 “Oh- of course, if that’s what you’d like.” Eli told him. He was almost surprised he wanted him to do it but he didn’t mind helping, anything to make him feel better. “I can step out so you can get changed but I’ll come back in when you’re ready. I’ll make sure everything is okay while you sleep, you don’t have to worry about her.” He assured him.

Lost smiled. He mumbled another thank you and resisted the instinct to refer to Elias as sir. Eli left the room for a moment, and Lost made sure he kept the door at least an inch ajar, and that he wasn't trapped before hauling himself off of the bed and into his new closet to change his clothes. Lost liked small spaces, and he could imagine setting up a little den of sorts in there to recharge himself. 

Changing went quickly despite his exhaustion, and he meekly called for Elias to open the door again as he dragged himself back to bed. 

"I… am so t-tired." He stated flatly as he pulled the covers back. The bed was warm, and clean, and the room outside was cool and comfortable. It was a gracious relief after walking so far, and he almost began to feel like he deserved it. After all, he was only human. Lost grabbed the plush that Elias had given him, and held it to his chest before laying down and tucking himself in. He had always preferred to go to sleep with something to hold. 

"Thank you," He called again, looking up at Eli with sleepy eyes. "Um, um… th-thank you. 'M, I… I… am… sleepy. Good… goodnight." 

 “Of course.” Eli smiled at him. “I hope you sleep well, goodnight.” He told him, taking a seat in the chair in the room so he could stay with him. He hoped he’d feel better once he’d had some time to rest, he couldn’t imagine just how exhausted he must’ve been. 

It only took a few minutes for Lost to fall asleep. He curled up around his plush, hugging it close to his chest and laying almost fetal. When he closed his eyes the darkness embraced him kindly, wrapping him up and taking over easily. Lost let himself be lulled into sleep by the sound of people working outside his door, knowing that if anyone wanted to come in; they would have to answer to Eli first. 

[earthstellar]

Watching Earthspark Eps 11 - 18!

So today was miserable on the Saturday shift so I’m going to be getting gradually absolutely shithouse drunk and watching Earthspark. All of the new episodes!!!  

This is my first look at all of the episodes, so these are my initial takes! 

I have not eaten today as I have been on shift, so I am likely to be genuinely drunk by the end of this, but I am taking actual notes here. 

Commentary as I go below, tagging for spoilers with every tag I know of just in case! 

Episode: 11 // Beers: 2 

Is the white woman evil? I’m going to say yes, because it sure seems like it. 

I love the idea that everyone has the capacity to experience an alt-mode slightly differently; It is dependent on the individual’s perspective, what their experience is in a changed form. 

Absolutely love that. 

Also, is this the first time we’ve seen what a bot’s experience can be, while in non-root mode? I think so! Although this seems to be specific to her? but we’ll see

The implication that alt-modes can be controlled by external forces is extremely upsetting. 

Give me a moment to be extremely old, but I remember when the hottest animation around was fucking Reboot, lmao. This show looks great!! 

Oh shit, it was the internet!!! Gen Z all star!!! This show makes me feel so old but also I like that there’s more of a Gen Z feel to the youngin’s here, that’s 100% appropriate and I like it. It seems like the writing is tonally on point for the target demographic and below, which makes sense. 

In a way it reminds me a bit of Ghost in the Shell, the way there’s this 3D space to navigate The Net. 

Uh oh, an internet meme reference which is 15 years out of date. Maybe I spoke too soon? 

An alligator alt-mode! I’m from Florida so this isn’t scary to me lmao, but hell yeah Beastformers!!! Fuck yes!!! 

That flat ass landing for Soundwave. lmao just flat on the back! Fuck. 

Evil white woman!!! uh oh

Yay, the family! I still really struggle with the family-intensive emphasis of this whole show so far, but I acknowledge that it’s because my own family is completely fucked up so all of these morals fall very short for me, personally. I do like that there’s a lot of focus on being together and achieving things as a collective unit of people, though. :) 

I love Nightshade. Not just saying this because I also don’t believe in gender, but just in general, I love Nightshade. 

This bitch is a living router!!! Yes!!! God, yes!!! 

Episode: 12 // Beers: 3 

How do they clean under the glove? Is the glove just a part of their hand? How integrated is it? 

Home movies, fuck yes. 

Anxiety son trying to choose his alt-mode reminds me a lot of 12 year old me trying to choose my gender. Relatable. 10/10 

What a cute opening!!!! I don’t have siblings but is this what it’s like sometimes? Holy shit I was a lonely kid LMAO 

I love Jawbreaker a lot. 

Dot’s hairtie looks a lot like a FedEx parcel rubberband. Not hating on it, I’m just saying. 

Oh shit this is going to be a home movie episode! YES YES YES 

This reminds me of Rewind doing interviews of the Lost Light crew, I’m gonna fucking cry over the most basic shit lmaoooo

WiFi Queen watching her stories. PLAY TELEMUNDO 

Jawbreaker is my son nobody fuck with him ever

oh no creative differences 

WiFi Queen leave my son alone, no no no no 

This reminds me way too much of all the videos teenagers made back in the day of Kingdom Hearts keyblade fights in Target parking lots and it’s truly, truly embarrassing but also very much a vibe 

 ARACHNAMECHS YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION 

calm down Elita-One

Megatron like “when’s your fucking boyfriend gonna get here” lmao 

MEGATRON INTERVIEW LET’S FUCKING GO 

OH SHIT HISTORY LESSON

NO NO NO WIFI QUEEN STOP STOP STOP YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING POSSIBLE TO SET OFF PTSD STOP 

hashtag her name is hashtag

oh god he’s explaining his fucking tilt-rotor alt mode, I already made a post about why the alt mode is inherently funny but tl;dr these things suck IRL :( 

oh shit are we getting an Elita-1 workout tape 

this is kinda shitty of Elita actually, maybe slow down for the kid??? IDK

ok it’s nice now <3 

oh shit!!! self-discovery!!! 

uh oh foreshadowing that this video definitely won’t be just for him :(  

the handling on that big ass van is not good, which makes sense 

sibling themed lesson, not surprising-- seems like almost every episode so far in some way or another. not complaining, it’s just something I really can’t relate to personally at all so I’m naturally a bit disconnected 

cute, edit with the scissors :’) 

is this what it’s like to have a family that loves you? like they’re supportive and shit? that’s real????? that can happen? lol my family is so fucked up idk this is actually depressing me but it’s fine I like the show 

Episode: 13 // Beers: 3 

god I love Jawbreaker 

Nightshade!! oh shit. I love them too

I LOVE Nightshade. lmao 

Nightshade is me. I also do not want to go Do The Thing. I want to Do Some Bullshit. 

Loner child!! Yes!!! They made a character for those of us that are only children lmao

CEMETERY YES YES YES 

oh fuck are they about to learn about death 

YES YES YES YES SPIDERS YES 

YES HOLY SHIT YES TARANTULAS YES YES YES YES YES 

PROTOFORM

UNAFFILIATED 

SUFFICIENTLY NON-THREATENING 

MOTHERFUCKER YES

PRONOUN INTRODUCTION YES

YES!!!! FUCK YES

HOLY SHIT 

I’M SO QUEER THIS IS THE BEST EPISODE OF ANYTHING EVER 

“YOU HAVE A MISSED CONNECTION” DON’T TELL HIM PROWL CALLED, STOP WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD 

did this goggle wearing asshole just call them an “it”? did they ever say they used it pronouns? I might just be drunk I’ll have to rewatch later but uhhh

Nightshade is my favourite, but so is Tarantulas 

IS HIS HOLOFORM DALE GRIBBLE FROM KING OF THE HILL WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

HOLOFORMS!!!! 

FUCK ME THIS IS GREAT

I LOVE TARANTULAS I LOVE HIM

IT’S SORT OF UPSETTING HOW MUCH I FEEL HIM RN BUT YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK IT THIS WHOLE EPISODE IS SO REAL FOR EXISTING 

80S MUSIC SCIENCE MONTAGE YES YES YES 

THEY’RE GIVING ME EVERYTHING!!! 

oh no is it gonna take a turn now 

“I chose to survive” FUCKING MOOD

no motherfucker he will NOT lose another child!!!! 

YES DOT WITH THE REAL TALK <3 LOVE HER 

god dammit! this is my favourite episode of this whole show so far 

ha ha oh shit spider time!! 

PARENT THEFT 

OH MY GOD WE’RE DOING IT 

I’VE ENTERED SICKO MODE

unsupervised only child behaviour, I can finally relate to something in this show!!! god bless!!! 

PARTNER!! YES!! 

honestly I get that it’s the Maltos so he’s wrong on this occasion but in general I am fully on board with Tarantulas at the moment, GHOST is some bullshit 

BEASTMODE 

BEASTMODE!!! FUCK YEAH FUCK YES HOLY SHIT 

Tarantulas has a desire to adopt so strong that he’s wrongly evaluating the current situation, this was entirely predictable, if you know then you know lmao

OH FUCK I LOVE NIGHTSHADE’S NEW LOOK

HELL YEAH 

fuck off Bumblebee 

yeah I fucking love Nightshade’s new look, this RULES

YEAH TARANTULAS REDEMPTION ARC YES YES YES YES YES YES YES 

FUCK GHOST I HATE GHOST 

they’re just OK with this shit? what the fuck? I mean ok but also no it isn’t, what the fuck? 

CREDITS, FUCK 

THIS WAS THE BEST EPISODE. THIS WAS THE BEST ONE. 

Episode: 14 // Beers: 3 

oh fuck GHOST

had to pause to make some bagels at this point, lox and a schmear, hell yeah

god I love Nightshade’s new look so much

hate that WiFi Queen got stuck with a GHOST alt-mode, GHOST sucks so bad I hate them so much holy shit :( she deserves better but also I understand the Call of the WiFi 

Schloder you asshole 

lmao The Most Dad 

the tea kettle is shaped like Bumblebee lmao, wait why is Schloder fondling it like his dick, I don’t like this 

that’s not how lenses work 

it’s OK Nightshade, I can’t do math either 

oh shit is it gonna be Blurr, oh shit oh fuck 

god the texture on Dot’s hair is so good

BREAKDOWN OHHH SHITTTT

STUNTICONS!!! 

stupid deal, of course. there’s no plot without it 

is this the Big Sister Syndrome I have heard so much about 

oh shit evil white woman is back!!! Croft? 

the three dipshit hipster GHOST members, lol 

YEAHHHHH DOT 

fuck, the white woman strikes again 

YEAH FUCK UP GHOST 

oh shit 

BREAKDOWN FUCK YEAH

LMAO the license plate in Human Language too, fuck yeah, GHOST sucks 

evil white woman!!! 

holy shit that ruled also FEELINGS

FUCK GHOST 

WHY IS EVERYONE OK WITH GHOST???? FUCK GHOST 

this whole thing took 10 hours? damn 

Episode: 15 /// Beers: 3 

LOVE the discussion about which prosthetic to use <3 

oh shit it’s a Mother’s Day episode

this is gonna be hard, I might have to punk out on this one for Fucked Up Family Reasons 

love Nightshade <3 also hell yeah owl claws!! 

ha ha oh shit a bear! FUCK

what the fuck happened with her prosthetic what bullshit is this 

my mom used to be a ranger this sucks so bad like my relationship with my mom is NOT GOOD so this show is already hard to watch lmao but holy shit 

super worms? fucking GHOST doing bullshit in the woods

the dial up sound L M A O 

the way WiFi Queen says “picnic basket” is the same cadence famously used by Yogi Bear, for those who aren’t old as fuck and/or have never seen that show before 

THE BEAR IS SATAN

I love Large Son 

FUNGUS BEAR FUNGUS BEAR TOXIC WORM BEAR

oh shit Nightshade cruise mode!! 

what the fuck the fungus bear became a new bear

DISPERSE THE GOO

I will talk a lot about the prosthesis lesson at a later date, 10/10 I like seeing this discussed on a show for kids 

evil white woman is shaping up to be the Main Villain here 

Episode: 16 // Beers: 4 

oh fuck a flashback

oh fuck!!! 

man it sucks to watch kids act out war. like yeah I know this is fiction but it’s also real and it sucks

looks like they finally set off PTSD in Megatron, way to go kiddos :( if I triggered my dad’s PTSD by playing with a ball or something I had the shit whipped out of me, so I hope the kids can fucking run because it’s not their fault anymore than it was mine IRL but I can feel the sting, oh nooo

Scottish Megatron was a great choice 

HISTORY LESSON LET’S FUCKIN GO

HISTORY LESSON FROM MEGATRON LET’S GO FUCK YEAH

man this episode is actually already setting off my own PTSD!! nothing like family themed shows to really point out how fucked my own family is. gonna need more beers!!! 

THE BLUE FLOWERS alright yeah this is gonna fuck me up real bad

hold on I’m getting another beer 

shut the fuck up, kids-- IDK I know this is my own family trauma from war speaking here, but I would have absolutely had the fucking shit slapped out of me if I said or did anything during War Story Time. I’m like terrified they’re going to start getting beat for real in a minute here if they keep saying dumb shit :( 

megatron has been patient so far but holy shit kids shut the fuck up 

that having been said I am glad Megatron is better with kids than any of my family members lmao it’s not like I want them to get hit or anything, I’m just seriously on edge because I absolutely got traumatised when I like, breathed when my mom or dad was doing PTSD time and this feels like where that is going 

“what do you know of the all spark” GET ‘EM MEGS, GET ‘EM WITH KNOWLEDGE 

IDK how I feel about Dot alone being Meg’s turning point but we’ll see where this goes

very TFP-like, with restoration of Cybertron being the ultimate goal

Scots Meg, love it when the Scots comes through. shoulda just let the VA go full Scottish, that would rule

that having been said, oh fuck Shockwave! 

I like his design, 50% Cyberverse, 50% G1.

OLD FRIEND LINE I’M LOSING MY MIND

really uncomfortable how much this reminds me of a couple war memorials I’ve been to IRL, Do Not Like but I understand they were going for this exact association it just sucks for what are probably obvious reasons 

nobody bothered to secure Shockwave’s tube? ever? 

“lower class cy-brids” oh FUCK 

IT WAS A CLASS WAR, IDW/TFP influenced origin semi-confirmed for this continuity as well??? 

“we have just enough energon in us for those things to hurt” -- interesting 

I love that the park insignia is a human fist grabbing a Cybertronian finger in a “handshake” 

don’t spew centrist bullshit Megatron but war fucks with everyone’s heads so I don’t blame you. 

although yes “don’t do leftist infighting” is very good advice, he’s not wrong about that. 

Episode: 17 // Beers: 5 

what the fuck is this underground dog fighting pit Cybertronian battle arena gladiatorial contest bullshit right the fuck here 

ARE THEY IN FUCKING PHILLY 

THEY ARE!!! THEY’RE IN FUCKING PHILLY 

SHOUT OUT TO ALLEGHENY COUNTY!!!! 

what weakass drumline is this, come on there are buskers better than this 

WHERE’S GRITTY

PLEASE GRITTY

everyone is rude in Philly, these kids don��t know shit 

also “city mileage” is literally going nowhere because traffic isn’t moving LMAO

oh shit a hipster is about to get Bad Timed

OH FUCK YEAH RED EYE OWL SUPERHERO TIME

YESSSSS OUR THEY/THEM HERO YES YES YES YES YES

no honey don’t breathe in the train vent air, you’re breathing in so much pollution, noooo

they’re encountering a white woman in the wild, oh no 

OH NO THE WHITE WOMAN IS ENTICING THEM TO JOIN A PIT FIGHT

DON’T LISTEN TO STRANGE WHITE WOMEN DON’T DO IT, NO 

god dammit! 

none of the Philly people have good Philly voices but I expected this 

NO SKATEPARK HAS AN AMERICAN FLAG ON IT THAT ISN’T VANADALISED, I CALL BULLSHIT IMMEDIATELY 

Twitch is fucking up her paint so bad right now 

fucked up graffiti, oh no :( 

SHE/THEY PINS ON THE BACKPACK HELL YEAHHHHH

YEAHHH NIGHTSHADE CALLED IT OUT 

QUEERS UNITE

YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH

I LOVE THIS SCENE SO MUCH

YESSSSSSSSSSS NON-BINARY DISCUSSION 

YEAH YEAH YEAH FUCK YEAH 

please god have a trans man on this show someday, please god 

white woman quoting bugs bunny lmao fuck off 

GUITAR CHILD IS RUNNING A PIT RING??? 

SOUNDWAVE COME GET YOUR KIDS

ha ha Bumblebee’s like what the fuck “we just wanted to see wrestling” LOL 

lmao staged fight let’s go, WWE back in the late 90s early 2000s energy for real

are they gonna do the Hulk Hogan Mr. America lie detector test thing LMAOOOO

I like that the arena is made up of fucked up old subway cars though, that’s real Philly energy tbh 

GRIMLOCK HA HAAAA GET FUCKED

no memory? also reference to IDW 1 Grimlock losing memory? idk I just want there to be as much IDW 1 in this as possible tbh 

also fucking LOL Lazerbeak is doing amazing as the announcer 

Mandroid!! 

wait the mind control eyes were purple here and the bear with the fucked up fungus tentacle worm situation also had purple eyes but that was from the GHOST shit so I’m calling it now, the Mandroid shit and the GHOST shit is the exact same shit 

lmao uh oh, fuck them humans

interesting how they said “we changed you” and he instantly said “you didn’t ruin anything”, uhhh not quite the same thing but also I’m drunk and this is a child character talking so I will revisit this later if need be

Stevie fucking sucks, very true, good lesson: friends that suck are not actually friends

OH SHIT REAL MISSION TIME IN PHILLY LET’S GO

I love that fucking owl alt mode so much, jesus christ

Episode: 18 // Beers: 5

humans are fucking shitty

very similar reveal shot to the shot in TFP where Ratchet and Optimus are looking around in the plague ship, 10/10 love it 

oh fuck, Brawl’s toast

OH FUCK NICE SAVE LARGE SON

this scene looks great

Mandroid’s looking fucked up!

oh shit, Bot Brawls, there’s a name for it. and it’s just normal human bullshit, not related to Mandroid. yeah, that checks out. SIGH

EXTREMELY ANIME SHOT OF MANDROID 

holy shit those cables really jammed in there

they made one of the worms from Tremors into a giant spider worm (not a sexy Tarantulas spider worm, like a bad one) 

oh shit Hashtag’s mind controlled 

ha ha holy fuck she just rocked Thrash

MENTAL BATTLE ZONE YEAHHH

this is fucked!!! 

ha ha it’s fucking with Teslas, that kinda rules 

HA HA YES IT’S ALL CARS WITH WIFI SHIT INVOLVED, YEAH I KNEW I DIDN’T TRUST THAT SHIT!!! I WAS RIGHT!!! THANKS FOR VALIDATING ME

can’t beat the internet, y’all are fucked pretty bad right now 

obligatory “I know you’re in there” line 

if the power of family is what defeats a microchip in this episode I’m going to be so fucking pissed off l m a o

I really wish this show would stop making me feel bad for having a shitty family at literally every opportunity, it really is sort of overbearing, but I’m also drunk right now so maybe I’m just being overly sensitive, but what about kids watching this with shitty families? like dude this is so genuinely painful 

god fucking dammit 

the power of family is what did it 

I mean good, I guess, but also this just makes me feel like such shit lmaooo

also I’m an only child so I mean IDK what the fuck sibling love is LOL

if I took shots for every time they said the word “family” I’d be dead within 15 minutes, guaranteed

the little girl is the only one with any common sense lmao, I am too drunk to remember her name, I still have not eaten all day -- wait I lied I had 2 bagels

confirmed: Bot Brawls are the only option for Decepticons, it’s literally just a new version of gladiatorial battles on Cybertron (assuming that was also a thing in this continuity, seems likely but I don’t think they’ve mentioned it yet) 

fucking bummer 

I wouldn’t be laughing at a drained Bumblebee passing the fuck out but that’s just me, also apparently Cybertronians can snore despite having vents and no airways, maybe that’s different here for some reason, IDK

it could also be Bumblebee actively trying to put them at ease with the last bit of his energy in a subtle way as the Terrans/kids might not understand Cybertronian anatomy so this might not register to them as being weird, which is the option I prefer but this is just me thinking out loud 

EVIL WHITE WOMAN!!! I TOLD YOU THE WHITE WOMAN WOULD BE THE REAL ENEMY!!!!! I TOLD YOU!!!!! 

oh fuck she’s the pit fight organiser, because of course she is

OH SHIT ENERGON PATCHES. Mandroid’s reaction to it is a lot like TFP Megatron’s reaction to dark energon, hmmmm

“they’re all disposable” wow fuck you lady 

also the shithead kid learned a lesson and fixed the graffiti, good 

great ending frame on a deranged Mandroid

ALRIGHT SO THAT’S IT

I’m going to sleep now, will re-watch all of this sober once I have the time, just desperately wanted to see Tarantulas tbh LMAO and I do not regret it!! 

[lemeute]

fic stat game

rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the fewest words.

tagged by @arafinwes!!

first-most hits: that would be And You Find Some Way to Survive. this fic is from april 2017, at which point I'd been fucked up about Takashi Shirogane from Voltron: Legendary Defender for about six months. unfortunately for him, I needed a character onto whom I could project my feelings about teaching, grad school, and being the only one emotionally responsible for various teenagers. he also had space trauma so this was like. perhaps not very fair to him. but in this fic he doesn't have space trauma yet!! only "my mentee is dealing with a Crisis that I don't have the resources to fix" trauma!!

second-most kudos: fdjksljf apparently Conditional Acceptance, which I think of as a companion fic to the above. more of the teaching projection, less of the Crisis vibes. I think these two are at the top in part because Voltron fandom was so big compared to my other fandoms, and also in part because the specific flavor of gen they are picked up readers on both sides of the Big Ship War

(sneaking in a shoutout to Severance, a Tatooine-centric Star Wars prequel fic which has the third-most kudos, because I'm still fond of it and the oneshot series it's part of, oh rise with me forever)

third-most comments: also a Voltron fic, because when I sort by comments the top sixteen are Voltron. If You Trust Me is abandoned after three chapters, and is also one of the few ship fics I've ever attempted (there may be a correlation). it's an Disney!Aladdin fusion, and I got sucked into writing it because of a stray "cut off your hand for stealing" reference in the movie; Shiro is canonically missing a hand, and I canonically cannot resist a fic idea that? involves amputation????* but despite this bewildering quirk of my personality please do not be alarmed; the fic is cute, what there is of it. my favorite thing about it is that a minor character who goes missing at the start of canon has been transformed by a curse into the flying carpet, and this is also a pun.

(*uh. there is also a prequel to this fic, Try To Try Hard. which is perhaps not so cute.)

fourth-most bookmarks: for a second I thought this was the same fic as above and I was like wow sorry everybody but NO, it just starts with the same word! If Only In My Dreams is. also Voltron. it is CHRISTMAS WHUMP IN SPACE.

fifth-most words: And You Find Some Way to Survive puts in a second appearance here (at 8,354 words if you're curious)

fewest words: ok look the one with the fewest words is a 72-word prompt fill that I didn't really like even at the time and I am simply going to link you the third-fewest words, because A of all it is still only 166 words and B of all I got only Voltron for all the other answers even though I've written for So Many Things and so I think I should be allowed little a Picking. as a treat. and C of all because and now my heart stumbles is Eomer and Eowyn, who are SIBLINGS and the bestest bravest darlings and all should love them. ok there you go.

with this set of results I think it is only appropriate that I should tag some of my VLD-era writing pals @curiosity-killed @demenior @lookforanewangle and then I will also add @kcrabb88 and @amarguerite :) if anyone else would enjoy doing this please grab it and feel free to say I tagged you!!!

[a-dog-with-different-paws]

Tw: Swearing, Caps

Jesus Christ there is so many anti-endo system blogs, like wtf? Oh I'm so sorry some people are different then you, and the people who are anti-endo USE THE FUCKING ":3" LIKE WTF YOU'RE NOT "CUTE" FOR BEING AN ANTI WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK (the person who did this literally made an account specifically for "venting" about endos like bro get a life)

I'm so pissed, if any endo sees an anti-endo "system confessions" or "system____" and want to actually participate, I'll make a blog for it, because Jesus Christ wtf is wrong with people

And you know if you told someone who was anti-endo "oh you're just traumatized and want to feel special" they'd have a hissy fit

Like can't we all just support each other? Jeez

(uh idk if Yuuko was gonna end it here but they kinda pushed me to the front- so yeah um whatever they said 👍 -💿)

(I hope I tagged it appropriately -💿)

[randyortonofficial]

title: market penetration (click here to be taken to the ao3 fic version) pairing: randy orton/cody rhodes word count: 2569 important tags: daddy kink, dirty talk, office sex description: Cody is incredibly bored during a virtual AEW meeting. Thankfully, Randy rudely interrupts (as is tradition) to save his husband and provide a much more fun alternative.

Cody has his forehead resting on his palm, fingers massaging through his hair, eyes closed, listening to various producers go over whether they think the show is getting too progressive. He wonders if they even understand how the world works outside of their little bubbles, and he’s been trying to end the meeting for like, 20 minutes at this point-

“WHAT’S UP, YOU SEXY BITCH? I MISSED YOU.”

Cody’s eyes immediately light up at the sound of his husband. Oh thank fuck.

He can’t even find it in himself to care that everyone on the call just heard Randy say what he did, his own face splitting into a grin at the silence after his words.

“Guys, we’re going to have to continue this conversation next week,” Cody tells them. “My uh, next appointment is here.”

He doesn’t even wait long enough for someone to reply before he’s hanging up. He gives Randy the widest smile he can.

“I haven’t been this happy to see you in awhile,” he says teasingly as his eyes roam over him, glad it’s a tight tee and loose sweats. “And I missed you too.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping yourself from me just so you can talk to people about taxes and synergy or whatever,” Randy teases before locking the door behind him.

That wide smile Cody has shifts into a smirk.

So that’s what they’re doing.

“I forget you’re all corporate sometimes,” Randy says. “Down to the suit.” He squints his eyes at Cody as he tries his best to look him over. “You know, i can’t check out your ass when you’re sitting down.”

You know, even when Randy is being an idiot, or annoying, or rude, or fucking anything, Cody adores him. He’ll frown and make the appropriate expressions and reprimands someone can, but he’s always smiling on the inside.

With an eye roll, he slowly stands up and sighs. “Ya know, one of us has to do all the boring shit to keep this company going,” he laments as he makes a show of stretching his arms out above his head while moving around the desk. “I know you get to go and have fun at yours, but over here, I gotta be the big boss.”

He turns to face his desk, back to Randy, leaning over like he’s checking one of the papers on the desk, pert ass pushing out. They both know it’s an excuse to show off his ass, point made explicit when he looks over his shoulder to raise a brow.

“This better, babe?”

Randy gives a low chuckle and rubs his hands together as he stalks towards him. “Lot better, baby boy,” he drawls.

The name cuts through him like a hot knife in butter, whole goddamn brain melting down to nothing.

“Come on,” Randy says, “you’re not having fun over here?” His eyes stay on Cody’s ass as he puts a hand on his hip, other gently rubbing a circle into his lower back. “Don’t like telling people what to do?”

Cody is unconsciously pushing back against Randy, wanting their bodies closer, and has to bite his lip when he feels Randy’s natural bulge against his ass. He’s trying to maintain any sense of rational thought but he needs less layers between them since, like, yesterday.

“I um,” he swallows before saying, in a low and rough voice, “I think I like to leave all the bossing around to you.”

Already, Randy’s hands are slipping around and up Cody’s front to hold onto his pecs, body lain over his back, and begins to mouth a trail of kisses along his shoulder and to his neck. “Can’t boss people around in your company. I uh, think that’s why we agreed I shouldn’t be there, right?” He gently bites at Cody’s earlobe and licks the pain better. “You’d give up so fast, wouldn’t you?” he whispers. “Let me fuck you in every single room backstage, just like old times.”

They fucked the night before and Cody may or may not have fingered himself while he was in the shower this morning - reliving the night - so at least Randy won’t have to work hard to get inside him today. He doesn’t feel like something drawn out or romantic, not in his office. No, just wants it hard and brutal, right here.

He’s whimpering, fingers digging into his desk, trying hard to coax Randy closer still using nothing but the power of thought. “Fuck, I’d let you,” he admits, though they both already knew that. “I’d let you take me wherever you want, let you fuck me however you want, I fucking love being your whore.”

He hasn’t pulled out the big guns yet, saving it just a little longer.

“Whenever I want, huh?” Randy’s tongue swipes out along his lips, tongue catching Cody’s ear, and his hands move down over the belt of Cody’s hands to start undoing from behind.

Cody’s head is going light and a little dizzy, not unlike how he feels after his third glass of champagne. He feels warm and floaty, willing to submit, willing to allow Randy to do with him what he wants.

“That’s the thing about being my whore, you don’t get a say in when or where.” He unravels the belt and wrings it in his hands before standing up straight and smacking Cody’s ass with it.

Hard.

Then one more time, because he knows Cody can take it, and Cody lets out a broken moan at the hard smack of leather against his ass.

It stings even through the layer of fabric, and he loves it.

“You’ll do whatever I tell you,” he murmurs. “Do you need to be reminded what a whore is?”

Cody is already nodding, along with what Randy is saying, before quickly changing it to a headshake. “N-No, I know how to be a good whore for you,” he says quickly, pressing back against as he leans further down on the desk, begging for more, anything. “I’ll be a good whore for you, daddy.”

The belt is tossed carelessly to the side before Randy undoes Cody’s suit pants the rest of the way. Cody’s brain stutters as Randy pulls down his pants and briefs, spreading his legs on instinct as far as possible, although with his pants still around his ankles, they don’t go all that far.

Not that he’s complaining. It’ll just make him all the tighter for Randy, and make Randy feel all the bigger.

Randy’s grabbing hard at Cody’s suit vest to maneuver him around to the longer edge of the desk before spanking him once more. “Act like a whore then,” he tells him firmly as he pulls down his sweats and boxers.

Cody’s brain stops when Randy’s bare cock presses to his ass.

He absently wonders if Randy remembers he has lube in his desk before realizing it’s not all that necessary. Maybe he wants it to hurt, even.

Randy is slamming his hands down besides Cody’s head and hovers over his back to whisper harshly against his ear, “beg like a whore.” He slaps the side of his face just to hear Cody whimper so beautifully. “Now. Don’t make daddy wait anymore.”

“Please, daddy,” he gets out, voice thin, pathetic, and desperate. “I need you inside me, daddy, need it so bad, wh-when I woke up without you this morning, I had to fill my hole up myself, needed something inside me, but it wasn’t enough, daddy, needed your cock, your come-” He cuts himself off with another whimper. “Please fuck me, daddy. Please.”

Being the face of AEW and running so much of the behind the scenes for AEW is so much fucking work and responsibility, and it’s only made him more desperately in need for times like these, where he can completely let go and forget any accountability to anything other than being a good hole for Randy to use.

He loves to just let go and be himself; the part of himself nobody else gets to see.

Even when he was with other people, even when he’d be a good boy for them, a good whore, it’s never been as honest, as submissive, as real, as it is with Randy.

“Aww, filled your hole all by yourself?” His hands are rubbing the back of Cody’s shoulders, though it’s more of a condescending manner. “No wonder you’re so pathetic now. You’re nothing if daddy isn’t filling up your sweet little hole everyday, huh?” As he keeps his hand going, his other hand reaches around the side to rummage through the drawer for the bottle of lube he knows Cody keeps in his desk. “You’re in luck though, baby boy.” Randy strokes the lube onto his cock to fully slather it on, and with a lubed hand steadying his cock, his clean hand goes up to maneuver both of Cody’s wrists together so he can hold them in one hand to pin them on the desk. “Daddy hasn’t been quite himself when he doesn’t fill you up either.”

With a familiar ease that comes from doing this for a tiny bit over a decade at this point, he pushes all of himself into Cody.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans. ‘Take it, baby, be good for your daddy.”

Cody takes in a deep breath as Randy pushes in, eyes closing, jaw falling open with pleasure, and a low moan slipping from his lips. A shudder of pleasure races through him and leaves his skins raised with goosebumps, leaves his cock so hard it hurts a little.

“D-Daddy, fuck.” He shifts back, trying to take Randy even better. “So good, daddy, feel so good inside of me-”

“Yeah, just like being filled, huh? Doesn’t even matter if I fuck you,” Randy breathes out as he begins to move, not bothering with going slow because they both know that’s not what this is for. A sadistic grin is hanging off his lips now, nails curling hard into Cody’s wrists as he leans down to whisper into his ear, “I could just stay in you and not move an inch, and you’d still be so happy, wouldn’t you?”

Cody nods, but can’t resist the whine that sounds in his throat. “Feels so good being filled, daddy,” he get out, fingers hurting a little from how hard he’s gripping the desk. “Love having you inside me-” He cuts himself off with a soft moan. “Th-Think I could come just from this.”

“You’d come from anything I do to you.” He stands up straight again, nails letting off Cody’s wrists to grab onto his hips instead. “But I want you to come because I’m fucking the hell out of you.”

He’s fucking Cody the way Cody likes - fast, hard, making him feel every inch with every thrust. It’s Cody’s favorite thing and he feels so good like this, spread out as Randy takes everything his body has to offer.

Cody is only aware of the fact that he’s been making noises, words even, and he’s sure he’s been doing it for awhile.

“So good, daddy, feel so good in me - fuck - please, faster, daddy, need more, I need it, please.”

It’s not coherent, it never is when Randy’s fucking him. It’s always desperate, always so honest.

“Faster?” Randy huffs a chuckle and shakes his head. “Fucking greedy slut.” He moves a hand up and around to latch onto Cody’s throat and pull his head back, and Cody’s body bends to his will. “Don’t like the way daddy’s fucking you?” he growls. “Huh?” His fingers press into his throat. “This not enough?”

Cody manages a whine, long and low immediately. “I’m sorry, daddy,” his voice cracks and strains under the pressure of Randy’s strong fingers. “It is, I-I’m just so desperate, haven’t had you in me all day.” He’s whimpering and fucking himself back to meet Randy as best as he can. “Can’t help wanting it, it’s all I want, daddy, just want you to fuck me all the time.”

And there’s such a triumphant grin spread across Randy’s lips as he listens to Cody’s flurried apologies. He really is so precious.

Randy takes his hand off Cody’s throat to let his head drop back down. He runs his hand back through his hair in a pseudo soothing motion, though more to be condescending. His thrusts slow to a halt, and that has Cody gasping, has him wanting to beg again but he bites his lip to keep quiet. He knows he needs to listen, even if he’s struggling to concentrate.

“Baby boy, I had no idea,” he says so smoothly, before letting his voice lower to that threatening tone again. “Listen up, I call the shots. Not you. You don’t tell me what to do, alright? Now be good, don’t make daddy have to tell you again.”

He slams back into Cody, using all the strength he has to keep his thrusts brutal and unrelenting, and his hands are pressing down hard now at Cody’s shoulders to keep him grounded

“I’ll be good, I’ll be a good whore!” Cody cries. “I promise, daddy, I promise, I promise-”

His words fall from his mouth in the same flavor, thankful and hungry. All he can do is lie there and take it, let Randy use him like he always has and he’s never been happier.

Cody can be the most jacked guy in the world. He can be so successful, he can be at the absolute top of his career, but no matter what happens in his life and through all the changes, the core of him stays the same.

That’s the same boy, years ago, who had looked at Randy with stars in his eyes and longed to be fucked by him, forever and ever after.

Dreams really do come true.

Randy fills him with a long groan and it spurs Cody’s own orgasm, causing him to cry out again as he comes into his hand, other hand holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life. It’s only when Randy finally stills inside him that he can grant his poor hands, and his body too, for that matter, some much needed respite.

Cody is whimpering in the afterglow of it all. Randy’s sweaty torso presses down into his fine suit and his whimper grows at the uncomfortable knowledge his mind decides to present him.

“Randy,” Cody whines, “I just dry cleaned this suit.”

“I fucking - I gave you the best fucking sex of your life once again and this is how you repay me?”

Cody blinks a few times before sighing. “Thank you,” he mumbles. “It was super great or whatever.”

“And what am I?”

“My daddy?”

“Yeah, but what else?”

“I’m not stroking your ego, Randy.”

“You should after what we just did, that was hot shit.”

“You're so annoying,” Cody grunts and rolls his eyes. “You’re a sex god. Anything else?”

Randy grins and pulls himself up. “Nope.” He gives Cody’s ass a nice spank before quickly pulling out-

“Randy!!” Cody gasps as he instantly turns around to face Randy. He swats at his shoulder. “You can’t pull out like that, you know I-”

“Yeah, you hate it, but maybe if you didn’t complain about me wrecking your suit, I would’ve been more nice.” Randy clicks his tongue as he pulls his pants up. “Let me know when you’re done so we can head out of here.”

Cody huffs. “Fine.”

“I love you?”

“Uh huh. I love you too.”

Despite their bickering, Cody and Randy can’t help but to smile at each other before Randy leaves, because despite the bickering, Randy being a dick, and Cody being a bitch, they know there’s no one else in the world that would be more perfect for each other than them.

If Cody’s suit gets ruined by Randy once in awhile for some incredibly hot sex, that’s a relatively small price to pay.