#really ask yourself what’s important to you.

[sunflowerwinds]

wine & dine | s.a

summary: sevika has been working at your father’s auto-body shop for the past two years and has never given you the time of day. valentine’s rolls around and she finally lets out what she’s been holding in from the moment you two met.

pairing: sevika arcane x fem!reader

contains: modern!au, dad’s bestfriend! sevika (not really, more like coworker), age gap (reader is 22 and sevika is 39), alcohol consumption (they’re both slightly tipsy but both conscious enough for consent), sevika has no prosthetic, sevika is kind of a loser but we love it, smut: whiny!sevika, fingering (r!recieving), oral (r! receiving), r!squirting for the first time, aftercare!! (it’s important). (18+ —MINORS & MEN DO NOT TRY IT.), reader grows more confident with sevika!

word count: 6.3K

a/n: ENJOYYYY<3 a treat for you guys! happy (very late) valentine’s to my single angels bc yall deserve love too! (SPECIAL THANKS TO @atomicami FOR READING THIS OVER TO MAKE SURE IT WAS GOOD ENOUGH TO POST. ily cami girl <3)

You were twenty when you were first introduced to Sevika.

Your father owned an auto body shop and she was a new hire. Most days, you would sit in his office when you were off your shift at your place of work – a local Tea House – and do your online classwork. None of the men ever dared to bother you considering how protective he was over you so you had headphones in your ears to block out any mechanical sounds and to give yourself some peace as you worked hard to get your assignments done, taking sips of your boba tea that you had taken with you.

The door opened as you were in the middle of sipping your drink as you were met with her. Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight of a 6'1, olive skinned, deliciously ripped and slightly glistening woman stepping into the carpeted office. Her upper body was clung with an oil and sweat stained white wife pleaser and low-rise work jeans with a chunky black belt holding them up.

You suck in a quick breath to try and act like you were unfazed by it but had forgotten you had the thick straw from your tea in your mom. A few tapioca balls shot into the back of your throat causing you to choke and cough loudly. The woman’s grey eyes widened at the sound of your gargled noises as she rushed around the table to pat your upper back.

You tried to ignore how large her palm was on your body and attempted to take another sip of your drink, lifting the straw up a bit so that you wouldn’t get any more tapioca.

“You okay?” She asks you softly, the rumble in your deeper voice sending a chill down your spine.

Fuck, you had thought to yourself. Her voice just matches how fucking hot she is.

“Fine,” you were able to cough out, trying to suppress them. “Choked on my, uh, drink.”

The woman chuckled lowly at you, shaking her head before standing upright once again.

“I’ve never seen you before,” she stated as she folds her large toned forearms across her oil stained wife pleaser. “What’s your name?”

You uttered your name to her as you stared up at her, loving the angle you were getting from where you were sitting. The second your name left your lips, her eyes widened in a way that gave away she had heard about you from your father or the other employees. You quickly asked for hers out of courtesy to try and distract her from it but it was useless.

“Sevika. You mean you’re–”

“Yeah, big boss’s daughter,” you tilted your head up at her with a playful smile. “Did you need something?”

Sevika had blinked down at you before nodding hesitantly as she had forgotten the whole reason she had come into the office.

“I just needed to grab my water from the fridge,” she said with certainty as she made her way over to the large black coated refrigerator and tugged the door open.

When she had turned her back to you to bend over to search for her reusable steel water bottle, you silently thanked your dad for finally hiring probably one of the sexiest women you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You pretended to tend to your school work on your laptop as she stood back up, twisting open the lid and tilting it up to allow the water to flow down her throat.

You mindlessly typed as you watched and savored the sight of a few droplets leaving the sides of her mouth as she chugged the ice-cold water. Her shirt lifted ever so slightly to tease you with her v-line and faint happy trail. You felt like a man seeing ankles for the first time in the early 1900s.

After that day, you started showing up alot more to the shop. Your father questioned the schedule change but simply told him that you were able to ‘focus’ in his office.

This went on for two years. Two damn years of you coming to the shop to study and Sevika had only given you a few glances and gentle check ups on you when she went in the office. Normal and professional conversation and you were tired of it.

Tired of pretending like you weren’t desperate for her attention, for her. You tried to distract yourself from the yearning and had a few flings. They were… nice as that but in the back of your mind, she lingered. Maybe she wasn’t into younger women. You knew she had to be at least ten years older than you so that could be a factor in her not even giving you a second thought.

Or so you’d thought.

Valentine’s Day had rolled around and you had zero plans. Your best friend was out of town with their girlfriend so your plans were pretty much shot. You decided that you might as well get some work done at the shop like usual. At first you had lied about you focusing better on your father but now you actually can’t seem to mentally lock in on your school work anywhere else.

It was pretty empty as you passed through the garage. You could hear some gears turning and clanking so you peaked around to see who was there. Just your luck, it was Sevika.

Great. She made you feel more single than ever on this day.

You tried to speed past her in hopes she wouldn’t notice you but to your surprise, she called out your name. You stop in your tracks at her voice, sighing to yourself as you turn your head so that you are facing her.

Her brows were set in a furrow as she wiped off her rust ridden palms, looking you up and down with confusion.

“Just came to do school work, Sevika. Don’t mind me,” you raise your palm to wave her off. “You can go back to… whatever you’re doing.”

You guess your tone gave away your bad attitude as she sighs, throwing the towel over her bare shoulder and making her around the truck. You tense up as you adjust the strap to your book bag, now aware she could see all of you.

“What’s up, angel? Hmm?” Sevika leans back on the maroon, rusted door.

“Nothing.”

You ignore the heat that’s itching at your cheeks at her nickname for you. It was rare when she pulled that one out considering how little conversation the two of you shared.

“Nothing. Today is– it’s not my day,” you explain.

Her expression softens as she looks behind her at the calendar that was hanging amongst the tools on that wall. It’s Valentine’s Day, Sevika thought to herself.

“Why isn’t your day?” She wonders aloud.

You sigh as you shake your head, wanting to crawl into yourself to avoid this conversation.

“I don’t know. Just even more of a reminder I don’t have… what other people have.”

And that I could be spending this day with you but the universe decided to birth me out fifteen years too late, you think to yourself.

Sevika is silent after those words leave your mouth, shame flooding your veins. You scoff as you adjust the strap of your bag to start making your way into the office but Sevika’s voice calls out to you once again.

“Do you want to come over to mine tonight?”

You froze.

What?

As you turn around on your heels and inch closer to her, eager for an answer: “To do…?”

Sevika chuckles as she leans into you with a smile, her lips two inches from your own. “Valentine’s dinner. I’m a great cook, angel.”

You really were confused now. Why was she offering you this? Was this a pity dinner?

“Why?”

She sighs at your tone and lifts a hand to cup your face, a rough thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. With any one else you would’ve flinched away and refused but even with how much you hated her for never giving you the time of day before, your body aches for this. For her touch.

“I don’t like knowing you, of all people, are going to be alone on this day. Let me do this for you, okay?”

You of all people. You despised how much that made you want to shove her against the car and kiss her until she was breathless. You stupidly blush at her words, failing to hide how flustered she made you.

“Okay, fine. What’s the dress code?”

Sevika can’t help but have her lips twitch up into an amused grin, releasing your face in the process.

“No dress code. Come in whatever you feel comfortable in, angel.” She reassures you, nodding as she throws her rag over her shoulder. “Give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”

You blink at her as you realized how in all these two years of knowing her you hadn’t had a good enough reason to have her phone number. You reach into your bag to rip a piece of paper from one of your notebooks and grab a loose pen that was sitting at the bottom to scribble down your number and hand it to her.

“What time should I be there?” You wonder, fiddling with your backpack.

Sevika hums as she checks her watch on her wrist. “It’s 3 right now. I’m almost done here with my truck. 8:30 okay with you?”

You nod, unable to comprehend how this was your reality right now.

“Y-Yeah. That’s good. I’ll leave you to your… handy work,” you try and joke but your awkwardness deceives you.

Sevika thankfully grins at your attempt and shakes her head fondly, motioning to the office.

“Be good and do your work, yeah?”

Your face lit aflame once again, nodding before walking away without another word.

How the hell were you going to survive dinner?

You left the shop only an hour later after you had heard the large garage doors shut. Once you had gotten home, you passed by your dad in the kitchen eating some lunch. He told you that he and your mother were going to dinner and would be late so that you could order in or if you had wanted anything from wherever they were going to eat.

You almost told him you had dinner plans as well but you didn’t want to risk more prying questions so you merely wished them a good night and dinner before scurrying up to your room. You dug through your closet to find something; anything that would be dinner worthy at Sevika’s place.

For the next three hours, you carefully picked out the right dress, the right makeup, shoes, jewelry, purse, panties for fucks sake. Your parents had thankfully left already so they wouldn’t press you as to why you were all ‘done up’.

The whole drive to Sevika’s house was a mental rollercoaster. Talking yourself into not causing five accidents by swerving into a u-turn back home or cancelling out of fear that you’ll be unbearably awkward. Every worst possible outcome you could have imagined flashed into your mind but you scolded yourself into taking a deep breath.

She asked you to dinner, you told yourself. On the most ‘romantic’ day of the year.

It had to mean something.

When you approached the house, you could see if you squinted, Sevika’s figure moving through the orange light through the curtains of the home. It was a small, cozy home. Nothing too crazy or expensive but homey.

Your fiddle with your necklace as you ring the doorbell, sucking in a deep breath as you listen to the heavy footsteps approaching the door. The clicks of the locks send an anxious chill down your spine as the hinges creak open.

Sevika looked perfect. She had on a black button up tucked into a pair of the same shade of slacks, a thick belt holding them up. The sleeves were rolled to her elbows and the top two buttons were left undone to show just the smallest bit of skin. Her hair was tied up in it’s usual half-up, half-down that you’ve seen but she just made it work.

“Hi,” she says softly, a gentle smile on her face. “Come in.”

You couldn’t tell if you were a puddle on the floor or if it was just your insides that had turned to mush. Your fingers tighten on your small velvet purse as you finally open your mouth.

“Hi.”

You take a step into the home and are immediately hit with the smell of marinara sauce and garlic. Your eyes dart from the worn in living room couch to the little bit of decor on the shelves before they land on Sevika who was lingering near the now-shut front door. Her gray eyes meet yours as she motions towards your dress with her large palm.

“You are beautiful, angel.”

You look down at your dress, too, admiring the black lace pattern over the garnet red silk. Your eyes meet hers once again as you take a step forward, daring for her to reach for you.

“Thank you. You are beautiful, Sevika.”

Her eyes seem to soften at your words, shining in a way that you’ve never seen before. Was she… flustered? After she muttered a shy ‘thank you’, her gaze darted to behind you as she motioned a hand to the rather cute set up of a dinner.

A small unscented candle was lit in the middle between two plates of a slice of lasagna and a smaller round plate with a garlic knot resting on it. It looked like restaurant grade food. You could even hear a soft tune of jazz lowly playing throughout the home.

“Sevika, this is so sweet,” you express as you approach the table.

“It’s nothing, really.”

Sevika’s heavy footsteps follow after you, reaching for the chair across from hers. She tugs the seat out and motions for you to sit.

“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you slide into the space and sit yourself down in the old wooden chair with a vintage flower cushion tied to the bottom.

The obvious tension in the air was killing you. It was clear neither of you knew how to start up a conversation so you took the reins as you picked up your fork and shoved it into the layered pasta.

“What was wrong with your truck?” You wince afterwards at the blandness of the question.

Sevika rounded the table after she scooted your chair in. She sits herself down across from you, picking up her own utensils.

“Oh, nothing too terrible. The brake pads needed to be replaced,” she shook her head to wave off your concern. “Did you finish your school wor—“

“Why did you ask me to dinner, Sevika?”

You didn’t mean to cut her off but this has been itching at you since it happened. Sure, she gave you a vague answer at the shop but you didn’t want vague bullshit. You’ve only been eating for a few minutes and the unknown was killing you.

“Honestly?” Sevika questions as she takes a bite of her lasagna, seeming all too calm for your liking.

You suck in a deep breath as you huff out a soft: “Please.”

“I’ve wanted to do this,” she motioned to the air between the two of you with her fork as she explained herself, “since we first met. Your dad and I have a good bond and I didn’t think he would approve of me of all people to take out his daughter, especially seeing how he acts when the other fuckin’ pricks at the shop even try to mention you in front of him.”

That made sense. You take another bite of the food, heat spreading from the base of your neck to the tips of your ears.

“Since we first met?” You question with a giddy grin.

Sevika playfully rolls her beautiful gray eyes at the fact that out of everything, that was the detail you were focused on.

“You’re ridiculous. Yes.”

“So what made you want to ask me now?” Your tone was more light and playful, feeling a lot more assured with this.

Sevika’s dark lips twitch into a small grin, shrugging her broad shoulders.

“I thought when you walked into the shop today that I would finally fuckin’ get over myself and just saying something to let you know I feel but I kind of got lucky it being Valentine’s and you not having plans so I took a chance. Thankfully, you said ‘yes’.”

Thankfully indeed, you thought to yourself.

“This is amazing, by the way. I can’t cook for the life of me.” You point to the warm lasagna, the flavors lingering on your tongue.

Sevika shakes her head with a low whistle at your confession. “22 and you can’t cook, angel?”

Your face heats up at her teasing, opening your mouth as you let out a soft gasp.

“I’m… working on it, okay? Plus, if all things go well tonight, I won’t have to anymore,” you hum as you tilt your head at her, testing the waters.

You watch her every movement as Sevika grabs her glass of wine to take a sip. The way her throat bobbed as she allowed the liquid to trickle down.

“Is that so?” She hums into her glass before setting it back down with a soft clink.

“If that’s okay with you,” you grin innocently.

Sevika’s eyes flicker down to your lips as you take your turn to try the wine. It was a sweeter white wine, the burn of the alcohol washing down your throat.

“More than okay,” she quietly admits as she continues to dig into the lasagna.

A large glass of sweet white wine and the hefty carb-filled meal later, you two talking quietly amongst one another on the couch. Well, okay, Sevika was talking while you were tilting your head as you eye-fucked her at the distance you’ve been craving for the past two years. Watching her dark lips move as she tells you something you were supposed to be listening to but god, you couldn’t focus on anything else but her lips.

The jagged, light scar that on the left side of her lip drove you wild. Maybe it was the wine or the few years of yearning but you were growing needier by the second. The soft hum and rasp of her voice was merely adding to the fire.

“Angel?”

She calls to you, confusion laced in her tone. You blink to focus and sit up from your slouched position, cursing internally at how you let your mind wander.

“Hmm? Yeah?” You hum, a smitten smile growing on your lips.

Her large palm reaches over to rest on her exposed thigh from the slit of your dress folding over, her thumb rubbing over the skin to try and ease you. Your eyes flicker down from her pinky to her thumb, breath hitching at how much of your thigh she was covering.

“Are you tired? You can sleep here. I don’t want you driving after you’ve had something to drink.”

You hold back your scoff as you shake your head as you look back up at her, sucking in a deep breath as you carefully scoot in closer to her. It wasn’t something you did often but it seemed like subtlety wasn’t working with her.

“I’m not tired, Vika,” you whisper, eyes darting down to her lips as you raise one hand to rest on her upper abdomen.

Sevika’s grip tightens on your skin, her breathing quickening at your hand placement. You could feel her stomach flex causing an excitement that you haven’t felt in a long time to rush to your head.

The air around you two was heavy, the both of you hesitant to take what you want. You internally frown when you feel Sevika’s heavy hand remove itself from your thigh. She twiddles with the fabric of the skirt of your dress, avoiding your gaze as she blatantly stares at your lips as her chest rises and falls at a faster speed now.

Fuck it.

You begin to lean into her, moving your hand slowly up her torso to rest on the open area at the top of her chest. Your hand rests at her collarbone as you tilt your head to the side as you press your lips onto hers. Sevika, as anxious as she was appearing, followed your movements in an instant. Her hand that had been tugging at your dress was now cupping the side of your neck, thumbing at your jaw.

You force back your giddy grin as you pull away to ghost your lips over hers, letting out a shaky breath as you make her chase you. Sevika’s hand moves back down to your crossed legs, gripping your thigh with need as she whines.

She fucking whimpers against your lips as she mutters your name. Not ‘angel’ but your name.

You hum at the sound, moving your hands to her shoulders as you throw legs over her lap to straddle her. Sevika hands fly to your waist as you attach your lips once again, running her hands up your body. Her tongue brushes over your bottom lip as your hips grind down on her.

She pants against you, pulling away from your wet lips to look down at her lap at your plush thighs to curse underneath her breath. The sight alone could have her cumming untouched.

“Vika, can we move to your bed? Please?”

Your neediness was obvious as your hands ran down her body, feeling the ridges of her sculpted body that you wanted to so desperately see. Your fingers reach up to her button-up, unhooking a single button as you lean down to kiss at her neck to inhale the perfume and light cigar scent clinging to her skin. “Need you.”

Sevika’s hands grip at your body and press you into her, a shiver running down her back as you nibble on her skin.

She breathes out as her eyes shut at your teeth grazing over the mark you sucked onto her sickness. “Yeah, baby. Come on.”

As she stands up, she hooks her strong forearms underneath your thighs so that your legs could wrap around her hips as she carries you to her bedroom. You couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you were here at her house, going to her room so that you could fuck her.

“You smell good,” you hum as you snuggle your face into the crook of her neck, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Sevika chuckles underneath her breath at your dazed words as she places a kiss to your scalp as she kicks her door open with her foot, the golden knob tapping the wall with a soft thump. She carefully sets you down on the comforter with a soft grunt.

You look up at her from the bed, eyes blown with lust as you wait for her next move.

“If you want to stop at any moment,” Sevika cups the side of your face, a feeling you’ve grown quite fond of. “You tell me immediately, okay?”

“Sevika, I trust you,” you reassure her softly, sucking in a deep breath. “But I will. I promise.”

Sevika seems to relax a bit more now after you have assured her.

“Good. Now, lay back for me, baby.”

You do as you told and scoot back a bit more up the mattress, your dress bunching up at your hips. Sevika seems to notice how it was bothering you, taking the fabric into her hands gently. You make eye contact with her and nod to signal it was okay for her to take it off of you.

Sevika tugs it up to reveal your deep red panties, a wet maroon patch in the front. You would’ve been a lot more embarrassed but hearing Sevika muttering curses once the dress is off of you and hitting the hardwood floor of her bedroom, your confidence shot through the roof.

Your tits were exposed as you didn’t enjoy wearing bras with dresses like this so here you were, borderline naked on Sevika’s bed. God, you would have laughed in someone’s face if anyone told you you’d be here within two years of meeting Sevika.

“You are perfect, angel.”

Sevika kneels down on her bed, her eyes following over every inch of your skin as if you were a painting. To be admired, not touched. You mutter a soft ‘thank you’ at the compliment, feeling a heat prickle at your underarms.

“You can touch me, you know,” you tease.

This seems to bring Sevika back to the task at hand, nodding with a gentle ‘sorry’ leaving her lips. You shake your head as you were more than flattered that she thought you were beautiful enough to stare at. She leans down to kiss you slowly, pushing you back down onto the bed.

Her knee was pressing into your clothed cunt, the pressure directly being placed onto your aching clit. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling, your hands gripping onto her strong shoulders. Your hips roll a bit to chase the pleasure.

“Needy girl,” she hums against your lips.

She pulls away to trail her lips down your body. Each kiss that was left had you leaning into the touch, eyes fluttering as she moved to your nipples. Your bottom lip catches in between your teeth as she cups your left and runs her tongue over your right. She sucks on the sensitive bud, running her hot tongue over the pebbled skin.

You watch her with no shame, not even daring wanting to look away at the fucking wet dream that was happening in front of you. You could see a spit string glistening on your nipple to her panting lips due to the dim lighting of the room. She adjusts herself so that she can move to the other nipple, pressing her knee onto your cunt once again.

“Vika,” you whine out, begging for her to move further down your body to where you needed her most.

Sevika looks up from your chest, pupils blown to the point where the gray of her eyes was a small ring.

“Tell me.”

You grind into her knee as a response, hoping she would get the hint that you wanted more than just her mouth on your tits. Sevika looks down at your desperate grinding on her knee as your hands run down her back, tugging on the fabric of her black button up.

Sevika pulls away, licking up whatever leftover saliva was on your tits before unbuttoning her shirt. You help her as you start from the bottom, meeting her in the middle as her sculpted body reveals itself to you. You had been teased with the idea from the bottom of Sevika’s shirts lifting when she would stretch or reach for a tool on a higher shelf at your fathers shop but this? Seeing every defined ab and little light scars on her stomach. Your imagination couldn’t compare to the real thing.

You throw her shirt in the direction of your dress, eyeing every ridge of her stomach. She had on a simple black sports bra hugging her tits to her body. As you were checking her out, Sevika was running her hands down yours as she landed right at the waistband of your panties.

She looks up at you as her fingers hook underneath the lace, waiting for your approval. You nod eagerly, lifting your hips up in assistance. Sevika tugs them down, letting out a soft groan at the sight of your slick that collected on the front of your underwear.

Your cunt was wet and fluttering, awaiting for any kind relief. Sevika moves down the bed to lay down on her stomach as she hooks her arms around your thighs to tug you closer to her. You yelp quietly as her slight manhandling of you but is quickly replaced by a moan. Without warning, she sticks her tongue out to drag across your entrance once to get your attention.

Being the absolute tease she was, Sevika kisses right over your clit before trailing her lips to your inner thighs. Irritated, you clamp your thighs on either side of her face, raising your brows down at her. She sighs and tsks, easily gripping your legs to force them back open.

You really were underestimating how strong she was.

“Be patient, angel. I want your thighs on my head when I’m eating this pretty pussy, yeah? Can you do that for me?” She places one more soft kiss on your inner thigh.

All you could muster was a whiny ‘yeah’ in response to her question. She hums, satisfied enough with your answer before delving back into where you needed her most.

Sevika laps her greedy tongue over the dripping entrance of your pussy, hooded eyes watching your body convulse. You moan out as she uses her fingers to spread your lips open to watch your cunt clench hungrily.

“You taste so fucking perfect. Can’t believe I had to wait so long to taste you, angel,” she nearly whines before sucking on your pussy lips.

Her eager licks to your cunt drew you close to your first orgasm, legs clamping on either side of her head. Your hands slip into her hair, entangling in her black strands. Sevika is relentless with her tongue, not letting up until she can taste you cumming.

Your stomach tightens as you ride her arched nose as it hits your clit just right. Your moans change higher in pitch as you could feel your orgasm about to rip through you. You came embarrassingly fast, shivering and gripping onto her hair as her tongue laps up your cum leaking from your cunt.

“Fuck, oh my god,” you whimper as she wraps her arms around your thighs to tug you closer to help you ride out your orgasm.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, shuddering when you feel Sevika places a lingering kiss to your clit. She releases your legs to pull her head from your pussy, the top of her head frizzy from your hands and her flyaways clinging to her forehead from the sweat.

“What the fuck?” You pant, a hand resting over your eyes.

Sevika softly chuckles at your words, gently massaging one of your thighs with her free hand. You shiver as you feel one other thick and long fingers tease at your entrance. You buck your hips to urge her to put it inside of you. Sevika hums from above you as she steadily inserts her middle finger.

“You gonna give one more, baby?” She questions as she licks her lips to collect what was left of your slick on her mouth.

You sit up slightly to reach for her neck to pull her down to be face to face with you. Sevika’s lips lock with yours, humming softly as her hand that wasn’t fucking you cups the side of your head. You could taste the lingering cum on her lips as you kiss her softly.

“One more,” you whisper against her lips, pulling away to rest your forehead on hers.

“Just one more, angel,” she whispers back, attentively watching your face to make sure you weren’t hesitating and not telling her.

But all she could see was how blown out your eyes were as you grind your hips weakly on her fingers.

The lewd sound of the squelch of you taking her finger made her smile against your temple. You hum as you feel her leisurely slide her ring finger next to the pointer, soft pants leaving your mouth. Your body was hot all over, sweat gathering above your top lip, the back of your neck and the crook of your hips.

Sevika began to pump her fingers in and out of you, watching the way your pussy lips began to puff up and lather in a mixture of her spit and your slick. She couldn’t get enough of you, wanting to make you see stars from her fingers alone.

You were already out of it; in a daze that boosted her ego.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, angel,” she praises as she leans down to kiss your cheek.

“Feel pretty,” you hum, gasping when Sevika’s fingers curl inside of you.

Sevika captures your lips once again as she picks up the pace of her fingers, moaning into your mouth when she feels your gummy walls clenching down on her. You throw your head back at the relentless thrusts, exposing your neck for Sevika to mark up. She wasn’t a big hickey person but watching you let out the prettiest and whiniest moans, all she wanted to do was make sure everyone who would see you the next day that you were hers.

Her lips latch onto the length of your neck, sucking and licking on the skin.

“Right there, baby. O-Oh fuck,” you whine out, not realising the pet name had left your lips.

This encouraged Sevika’s movements. Someone would have to fucking kill her to stop making you come undone like this.

“Yeah?” She places a sloppy kiss to your jaw with a hum.

You shudder as she curls her fingers to hit your g-spot, abusing it with a hungry persistence.

“Y-Yeah.”

Your whole body had basically become jelly in her palms, overwhelmed by the way she was handling you. Borderline pornagraphic moans left your lips as she wouldn’t let up. You think you would start crying if she did, the pleasure already becoming an addictive feeling. You knew at that moment she had ruined you for anyone else; that nothing would be as good as her.

Again, that familiar feeling settled in your lower abdomen. You were going to cum again but it felt… different; more intense than the one before. Your hand flew to her wrist that was fucking into you, not trying to stop her but confused about how the fuck was she doing that.

“Sevika, I-I’m gonna–” Pee?

“I can feel it, angel. Just let go for me. Relax.”

You release her wrist as you let yourself fall back onto the mattress, leaning back onto your forearms. Sevika continues to fuck into you, watching as your puffy cunt began to squirt your cum all over her forearm, even some splashing on her lower stomach. The orgasm shocked up your spine as broken moans leave your mouth, unable to speak to voice your confusion. Your hips buck to chase the most overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had.

The obscene sight in front of Sevika made her smile to herself, looking down at her squirt-glistening stomach and arm.

“I never…” You trail off as you suck in a deep breath, trying to sit up but the weight of your exhaustion pulls you right back down.

Sevika’s eyes flicker to your shaking inner thighs and the embarrassment in your eyes and it hits her.

“Angel, you’ve never squirted before?” She questions gently.

You shake your head as you blink slowly, your eyelids becoming heavier by the second.

Sevika carefully removes her fingers from your cunt, shushing you with a ‘I know, baby’. You reach for her with weak arms, sighing in relief when she holds you close to her and maneuvers the two of you to avoid the wet spot on the bed.

“I think you killed me,” you mutter into her chest.

“Well, stay alive for a little bit longer. I’m gonna run a bath for you.”

You didn’t realize how sticky you felt until she mentioned the bath. The mix of fluids on your body made you frown until you remember what had just happened. You fucked Sevika.

Well, she fucked you. Better than you’ve ever experienced from the weak and careless attempts you’ve had before her.

“I’m sorry about your sheets,” you wince at the sight of the damp area that you can see out of the corner of your eye.

Sevika shakes her head as she rubs a hand over your naked back to help steady your breathing.

“Don’t be. It felt good, right?” Sevika looks down at you with a teasing grin.

You scoff at her words. “I just said ‘I think you killed me’. What do you think?”

Sevika leans down to peck your lips a few times, mumbling ‘just making sure’ onto your lips. The two of you lay there on her bed for you couldn’t even remember for how long as the rest of the night was a blissful blur. She carried you to the bathroom to sit on the toilet to make sure you pee so that you don’t get an infection and ran you a bath.

The bath helped your sticky feeling. Sevika joined you not too long after you did because well, you had asked her nicely. Lavender-scented bubbles engulfed the two of you, the warm water easing your aching bodies. With your back against her naked chest, you push out a question.

“Are we… dating?”

Sevika was tracing your arm that was resting on the white ceramic of the tub, resting her cheek on the top of your head. There was a mean voice in the back of her head calling her ridiculous to think you would want to be with her; but she ignores it for now.

“We can be. I wouldn’t mind this with you,” she hums as she picks up your hand to hold carefully.

Sevika didn’t specify what ‘this’ was but you hoped it meant more bubble baths and sweet dates. Oh and the endless amount of orgasms.

“Yeah, I want this too,” you grin down at your intertwined fingers. A haunting thought took over your brain, knowing you’d have to mention it at some point. “What about my dad?”

Sevika’s body tenses for a moment but she relaxes the moment you snuggle more into her.

“Well, we can keep it between us for now. Tell him when we feel ready.” Sevika assures you as she runs her thumb over the back of your soap-coated hand.

Between us, your mind echoed. You were okay with that.

TAG-LIST: @strawberrykidneystone @vii-v @savedforlaterr @jiungmcvv @theuclid @luvrmunson @dumcurlyhead @sevikasrightboob @sapphiellar @auraclus @her-gayness @starmaniii @vinxernica @seriouschaosshrimp @amenazaaaa @femininefables @genderfluidlesbain999 @val3ntinswrrld @elliessgfsstuff @iluvwomensm @chaosisclassy @razziematazz @555aturn @graciedollie @vintage-karma @skhv67 @eyelinerfemme @sevikasllver @girlbossuser @acclaaa @lambilegs @pavelyasz @lulumania @applekittypie @darylswifeeyy @belldonic @vangoes @hell0-ki55y @shookkatofthat @mqrzie @sexysapphicshopowner @cstbdf @iristhemuse @sevikasshimmerstrap @tojibestslut @abbysunderwear @sevi-kas01 @paigesbabymama @themostlesbianever @wh1smyk1tten @danimp3 @somos-things @slut4sevika @berntderse @skaireso @aliluvszs @55vies (TAGS CONT IN COMMENTS!)

[sttoru]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. caleb x female reader. fluff, suggestive/smut-ish, tiny bit of angst. not proofread. aftercare with boyfie caleb ^_^

caleb is nothing but sweet to you, in public and in private. but he’s especially considerate after he collapses on the bed, with both your bodies sweaty from the passion you shared. aftercare is mandatory to the colonel—it doesn’t matter when or where you two do it.

“you okay, sweets?” caleb’s voice is a rough rumble, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. you nod wordlessly while trying to calm down after your intense climaxes. his strong arms hold you against his chest with ease, “breathe in ‘n out, mhm, there ya go. atta girl.”

he watches you mimic his pattern of breathing and grins in response. you always blindly followed his instructions��that trust and vulnerability of yours is something he adores and wishes to keep that way. his large hand settles on the back of your head to pat your hair soothingly. you slowly come down from your high and limply rest your head against his hard pecs.

“you did so well, i’m really proud of you,” caleb pinches your cheek like he always does, making you huff and stick your tongue out at him playfully. your boyfriend chuckles before doing the same thing again. he can’t help it; you’re too adorable for your own good.

you shake your head and nuzzle your face into his chest. “mmmh, hurts,” you whine as you try to move your body. your hips are already sore from exertion and they ache whenever you try to move them an inch.

caleb’s eyes darken at your little whine. “hurts? where?” he cups your face immediately to tilt your head, your eyes locking. you’re a bit taken aback by the sudden change in his tone—from laid back to concerned and protective in a split second.

“ah, no, my hips are just a bit sore. nothing out of the ordinary,” you quickly reassure your lover. you know how overprotective caleb gets, and if he had accidentally hurt you in any way, he’ll feel extremely guilty for the rest of the day.

caleb’s frown slowly disappears, but the concern still lingers in his softening eyes. he sighs in relief and a small smile tugs at his lips. “i’m sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you,” he croons with a breathy chuckle following right after.

his large hands, warm and callused from all that he experienced, settle on your bare hips to massage them. you hum in relief and your eyes close to enjoy the warmth spreading through your tired body.

a loud ringtone suddenly cuts through the lingering tension between you two, snapping you out of your daze. caleb faintly clicks his tongue before turning his head towards his nightstand. he grabs his phone with one hand to check the caller’s id.

the brown-haired man beneath you tenses up. you can feel it almost immediately. his other hand stops massaging your hip for a second before it continues, this time more slowly. caleb’s gaze is cold and his jaw is clenched as he tries to figure out what to do.

“not gonna pick up?” you ask curiously as you lift your head from his chest. caleb quickly tosses his phone away after pressing the red decline button. he shakes his head and that charming smile of his quickly returns to his face.

“nu-uh. no one’s more important than you,” caleb grins and boops your nose. it’s an attempt to distract you so you wouldn’t ask any more questions about the possible caller. and it seems to work, considering you laid your head back on his bare chest, snuggling up to his bare body beneath the crumpled sheets.

you breathe in his musk and can’t help but love it. the faint traces of his cologne mixed with the scent of his body—it’s a heady combination. caleb seems to do the same, his nose buried into the strands of your hair, breathing you in. you smell like home and he loves it, lives for it really.

eventually, you decide it’s time to detangle yourself from your lover. as much as you want to keep him inside and beneath of you, you need to clean up and go to the bathroom.

caleb hisses when you try to roll over and change positions which had caused you to instinctively clench around him. he tightens his muscular arms around your waist to keep you squished on top of him, refusing to let you move.

“stay like this for a little while more, yeah? i promise i’ll let you go in a bit,” caleb whispers in your ear before his tongue teasingly licks at your lobe. he smirks against your skin and you can feel it. you know it’s a lie—he will not let you go for the rest of the night. hell, he might even be ready to go another round.

even if he technically has to leave to take care of all kinds of things. things that will keep you safe and out of harm’s way.

anyway, caleb will deal with the consequences of skipping his duty later. for now he’ll settle to cherish this serene moment with his beloved, before reality comes crashing down again.

[rotagnus]

love/self-growth in march !! 🫐

my usual pick a pile is here, darlings. pick just as usual--if it doesn't speak to you, don't force yourself to choose. there are messages for you that lie elsewhere.

this reading deals with both platonic, familial, and romantic love. don't expect to get a certain aspect of love or the result you want.

-1. ooouu you're a bright person. probably very creative with a tendency to get stuck within your own head. as for love in march, i think that this month will focus on a connection that already exists. maybe you've been working on self-love, and that's what's growing. for some of you, you've adopted a pet recently and that connection is going to grow stronger. if you're crushing on someone right now, there probably won't be any change except for your feelings growing stronger. my advice to you is to decenter this because if you focus completely on that, it'll be really terrible. you are so full of beauty and flame and wonder, and you should harness this energy and create beauty, not look for it elsewhere. time will bring you everything. you deserve a love which knows no bounds, and whether this person is it or not, you must first find that love within. i know a lot of you don't want to hear this, but it's the truth. i would highly suggest trying to talk to this person, though--to find out what they really are. ask deep questions if you're already on a talking basis with them, if not--try to make a friend.

-2. now baby tell me why you've given up on love. it seems to be a sour topic for you that you shy away from. you've done a lot of self-growth in the past ~6 months, and you're farther along on your self-discovery journey than either of these two piles are. for you, you try not to love. a lot of the times, you feel like you are still unseen. this month will bring change to that. i'm not sure what kind of change, i can't exactly tell, but you'll feel a bit more seen than you did before. this may be to personal circumstances, or maybe another person does something--even a simple action--and you realize that, damn, maybe i really am seen. this month will deal with opening up a little bit more to let the love flow in. lol, for pile 1, it's not really time for love, but for you it is; but you've closed all doors to any possible encounters with love. 🤣 listen, i highly suggest doing some exercises for your vulnerability. it's a great step forward, and i think that it could benefit you. if a person comes into your life, let them. but don't be scared to set boundaries and not settle for less.

-3. you have rose-colored glasses, darling. now, don't take this the wrong way. it can be a very great thing, being idealistic--you at your heart are a ruthless optimist and honestly, a little bit naive. you've been dealing with both ups and downs, this past couple of months. there's been some trouble in your family, and in your love life. you're always the one making ends meet in order to benefit mass sums of people. you're awfully responsible and confident, but you're still...you. you still need rest. i feel like most of you are women--babies, you do NOT need to be the men in the relationship, if you're a masculine woman, disregard this. but for a lot of you, you're stuck in this disbalanced masculine energy. i don't really like talking about the divine feminine and divine masculine and whatnot, but for you i feel like it's important. girl, put yourself FIRST. i promise you there's a man/woman/person out there who's gonna bring you flowers every damn day of the week, you just gotta put yourself first. start to say NO. you might meet someone new in march. someone unexpected. i know you've been taught that change is bad, but in this case, just wait a little bit. baby steps, darling. baby steps.

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: kinda bridget jones’s diary coded/inspired bc its one of my fav romcoms, watched it solely bc of colin firth when i was 15 and i think nanami kinda reminds me of him soooo, also reader is awkward and bridget inspired obvi

new year’s resolutions were stupid. you knew this. they were a yearly tradition of setting unrealistic goals and then abandoning them by february. and yet, here you were, writing them down anyway.

1. stop embarrassing self in front of nanami kento.

2. get life together (financially, emotionally, spiritually, etc.).

3. no more hopeless pining over emotionally unavailable men (see: nanami kento).

you tapped your pen against your notebook, frowning.

this was going to be a disaster.

nanami had been a problem for you for far too long. serious, disciplined, devastatingly handsome—he made suits look unfairly good, and his deadpan sarcasm made your brain short-circuit. worse, he was kind to you. not in a flirty, obvious way, but in that nanami way—remembering how you took your coffee, covering you with his jacket when you fell asleep on a mission, standing between you and danger without a second thought.

but that was just who he was.

and you? you were… not like him. your life was a mess. you were the kind of person who accidentally sent texts to the wrong people, spilled coffee on important documents, and tripped over nothing. a disaster, really.

so, resolution #1. stop embarrassing yourself in front of him.

simple enough.

except it was not simple, because ten minutes later, you were at gojo’s new year’s party, wine glass in hand, already halfway to ruining your life.

“looking serious as always, nanamin.” gojo slung an arm around nanami’s shoulders, grinning like the menace he was. “you here to celebrate, or did someone trick you into coming?”

“i was invited,” nanami replied, sipping his drink. “and unlike some people, i have manners.”

you watched from across the room, pretending not to stare. he looked unfairly good in that suit—tie loosened just enough, hair slightly tousled. new year’s was supposed to be a time of fresh starts, and yet here you were, still hopelessly into him.

“you’re staring,” shoko murmured beside you.

“i’m not—”

“you are,” she said, smirking. “just go talk to him.”

“no. absolutely not.” you took a sip of wine. “besides, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

shoko gave you a look. “right. sure. keep telling yourself that.”

before you could argue, gojo’s voice rang out.

“alright, everyone, five minutes to midnight!”

the room buzzed with excitement, couples moving closer, people laughing as they grabbed champagne. you swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that at midnight, there would be a moment—the kind of moment where people kissed, or at the very least, awkwardly looked around for someone to kiss.

you, of course, had no such luck.

instead, you found yourself standing near nanami, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to act normal.

he glanced down at you. “enjoying yourself?”

“oh, yeah. love parties. love new year’s. nothing like a fresh start.” you gestured vaguely, then immediately regretted it because you nearly sloshed your drink onto his sleeve.

nanami raised a brow. “right.”

you cleared your throat. “what about you? any resolutions?”

he was quiet for a moment, then said, “just one.”

before you could ask what, gojo started counting down.

“ten! nine! eight—”

the room filled with excitement, voices overlapping, people turning to their partners. you, meanwhile, were frozen in place, heart hammering.

seven! six! five—

nanami was still watching you, expression unreadable.

four! three—

you opened your mouth, about to say something, anything—

two! one!

the room erupted into cheers, and before you could process it, nanami was leaning in, his hand brushing your waist.

oh.

your breath caught, and then—softly, gently—he kissed you.

it wasn’t dramatic. it wasn’t some grand, cinematic moment. it was just him, warm and steady, like he had been waiting for the right time.

when he pulled back, you stared at him, dazed.

“happy new year,” he murmured.

you blinked. “oh. uh. yeah. happy new year.”

nanami huffed a quiet laugh, then—so casually it nearly knocked you off your feet—brushed a thumb over your cheek before stepping away.

you stood there, absolutely wrecked, as gojo whistled somewhere in the background.

shoko sidled up beside you, smirking. “so. about him not thinking of you that way…”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. resolution #1 was already a failure.

but honestly? maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

[blushsturns]

heyyy!! first time doing these request things and i dont know how these things go, but can i request on something for a pairing, like probably chronic hermit!reader and social butterfly!chris ?? thanks ✨

title: louder than words

pairing: social butterfly!chris x shy!reader

w/c: 2095

sometimes you really hated how shy you were. people would mistaken your shyness as being rude and it would only make you really flustered and shut down immediately. it wasn't like you were shy on purpose. you always thought you’d grow out of it as you got older, but you never did.

sure, you did talk to people. it’s not like you were mute and never said a word to anybody. you just get really shy and flustered easily and never know what to say, and when to say anything.

all of the words you’d love to say to people sit in the back of your mind, waiting to come out, but the day never comes. it’s quite frustrating being the shy one. people tend to overlook you, forgetting you were even there because you’re so quiet.

“you should talk more” “what, cat got your tongue?” “you’d be a cool person if you actually talked” “do you even know how to speak?” these are some of the things that people say to you or ask you and even though you’ve dealt with it all your life, it’s still frustrating to have to deal with.

the only one who seemed to get you out of your shell was your boyfriend chris. the relationship was still fairly new, you two have only been dating for a month and a half. he was the social butterfly in the relationship.

when you guys went out to get food, he’d say your order. when you needed to make a phone call, chris helped you write down what you needed to say even if it made you stammer on your words to the point where the conversation left you in tears from how complicated it was. when you two would hang out around people, he never pressured you to talk. chris was the talker and you were the listener. he always had your back and knew what to do when you were feeling anxious, timid, or just unable to speak up about something.

he had the patience of a god damn saint and you were so lucky to have him. meeting him and hanging out with him was effortless. he knew how shy you were, but after the first couple hangouts, he got you to open up and get you out of your shell. now? you’re still shy around him, but you’re definitely comfortable and relaxed and you can truly be yourself around him.

chris loved to talk, even if it was about utter nonsense (which it was most of the time). he’d yap about the most random things when you two hung out together. he didn’t mind talking, and you didn’t mind listening. he always gave you opportunities to have the floor if you wanted to speak on anything, but sometimes he could sense that you were overwhelmed and just needed to hear his voice to feel comfortable.

you both laid on his bed while hanging out at his house, your arms wrapped around his waist as you both lay comfortably in his bed. your bodies faced one another, his hands resting against your hips as he continued to go on and on about something silly that him and nick got themselves into last night. after five more minutes of him constantly talking, you bring your index finger up to his lips to shush him, a shy smile appearing onto your face. “baby, quiet.”

his eyebrow raised up in a curious manner as his eyes narrow down to your finger that was still placed against his soft lips. he pressed a soft kiss to your finger before grabbing your wrist to pull your finger away from his lips and brought his hand and yours that was now holding yours to his chest. “i’m talking too much again, ain’t i?”

you nodded your head slowly, a soft giggle emitting from your own lips. “yes, but you know i like listening to you talk, especially about your day, or things that are truly important to you. i just like listening to your voice.”

chris’s lips curved up into a huge grin, his hands moving underneath the fabric of your hoodie and began running his fingertips up and down your bare skin in a slow motion. “you’re so sweet, my precious girl.” he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment as he murmured, “i like listening to you talk. i like you, so much.”

a pink, rosy tint formed on your cheeks and suddenly grew warm at his words, another giggle leaving your lips. “i like you too, chris. thank you for being my social little butterfly.” you moved your arms to wrap them around his neck, running your fingers throughout his tousled brunette locks.

“you don’t have to thank me, pretty girl. it’s just in my blood that i am the way i am and it helps you out in the long run too. we make a good match, don’t we?” his fingers travel to your back, lazily running them along your bare skin and causing a shudder to run down your spine at the sensation of his fingers against your cool skin.

you relax against his touch, your fingers continuing to run through his hair as you look down at him with a shy smile staying present on your face. you always felt so comfortable and safe when you were with chris, especially when it was just the two of you laying comfortably together like this without any distractions or outside noise. the two of you could just be yourselves without a care in the world. “we do.” you giggle again, not being able to help the fact that chris always said the sweetest things and made you laugh and smile like you were a child all over again. he made you feel so giddy all the time, but you weren’t complaining one bit. “are you sure you don’t wish i was more talkative? more outgoing?” you bit onto your bottom lip as you stare at him and wait for him to answer.

he immediately shakes his head, pulling your body even impossibly closer to his, your legs intertwining with his and becoming tangled together against the sheets. “absolutely not. i love you for exactly who you are, and all that you are.”

your eyes widened in surprise once you hear those three little words come out of his mouth. you open up your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. you’re speechless, unable to speak, which isn’t unusual for you, but this time you’re genuinely surprised and not sure if he meant to let those words slip from his mouth. your heart begins to pound rapidly in your chest, your body feeling like it’s been electrocuted from the currents rolling through you. “chris, i-“ you stammered on your words, not sure exactly what to say.

you loved him, of course you loved him. how could you not? he was everything you ever dreamt of and more. you never thought you would ever be so lucky to find someone as amazing, patient, kind, and loving as chris, but you did, and you thank your lucky stars every day that you luck was on your side the day you met him.

the day you met him, you were in line at the local coffee shop. you didn’t usually go alone, but your best friend bailed on you and you were already at the coffee shop waiting for her. you had no choice but to try and say your own order to the barista. it was a simple order, really: an iced white chocolate mocha. no substitutions, no adds on. you even had your phone in your hand to say your order properly without sounding like a fool, but the words weren’t coming out of your mouth.

the barista had asked you twice if you wanted something, and if you didn’t, to please move out of the line to let the next guest come up. that next guest was chris, who immediately stepped in. he asked you if he could help and when you nodded and showed him your phone with the order displayed on it, he told the barista what you wanted and what he wanted and paid for you. he asked if you wanted to sit with him since he was there alone as well, his brothers ditching him because they didn’t feel like going. the rest was history and you two have been unstoppable ever since.

chris shook his head, bringing his hands away from your back and placed them onto your face to cup your cheeks in the palms of his hands. “you don’t have to say it back, i promise. i just want you to know that i meant it. i didn’t say it by accident, and i wouldn’t just say it to make you feel better or anything. i meant it. i love you, and i’ve been wanting to say it for awhile, but i wasn’t sure when the right time was. i started to realize that in life, there never really is a right time. life is short and precious, and we shouldn’t waste any time not doing or saying the things we want. so, here i am, telling you that i love you and everything about you. that feeling will never go away for me.” he used the pads of his thumbs to caress your warm, rosy cheeks, his eyes staying fixated on you the entire time.

you felt your heart swelling in your chest as you listened to him speak. your bottom lip began to quiver and you felt your eyes begin to well up in tears. not sad tears, happy tears. relieved, actually. you took in a deep shaky breath, a small laugh erupting from the back of your throat as you bit down onto your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. your heart was racing rapidly in your chest as you brought your hands up to his as they stayed pressed against your cheeks, intertwining your fingers with his. “chris.” you started speaking, your voice soft as you try to gain your courage. you blink back a couple tears, but chris immediately uses his thumbs to wipe them away. “i love you.” was all you could manage to say, your heart feeling like it could soar out of your chest at any given moment.

chris seemed relieved, his body relaxing as his smile only widens. he pulls his hands away from yours that are still intertwined together and places them against his chest, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “you have no idea how happy that makes me, to hear you say that, and to know you feel the same way. god, i love you.”

before you could reply, he immediately leaned forward with his eyes fluttering shut and pressed his lips against yours in a sweet, delicate kiss. your eyes flutter shut once his lips fall onto yours and instantly melt into the kiss, kissing him back with a bit more urgency, a satisfied hum emitting from your lips against the kiss. your lips moved together in perfect unison, your heart rapidly racing in your chest so fast and so hard that he could probably feel it pressing against his own chest. he moved one of his hands away to place back against the side of your cheek to hold your face in place as he deepened the kiss, his smile only widening against your lips.

after a couple seconds, he pulls away from the kiss and you both catch your labored breathing, his forehead resting onto yours. you open up your eyes, his ocean blue eyes gazing directly into yours with a sweet, gentle smile on his face full of adoration and love. it made your heart swell in your chest and butterflies to roam in the pit of your tummy. “i love you, chris.” you say softly, your heavy breathing lingering against his lips.

he smiles even wider, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, moving his other arm to wrap around your waist to pull you even closer to his body, if possible. “i love you, baby. now come on, let’s get ready. i wanna take my girl out to dinner. she deserves it.”

you were incredibly lucky to have him. he was your social butterfly, your guardian angel, your absolute everything.

you don't know how you got so lucky to find him, but you were thankful everyday for him and you weren’t giving him up, ever.

notes: thank you for the request! if you have any more requests, send them to my inbox! thank you for reading, i love you guys!

taglist:

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @poppingit4chris @mattsplaything @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @y3sterdaysproblem @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @strawberryghost3 @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats @sturniolochrismatt

-nessa :)

[emo-gremlin]

What if the Doctor X a creature he experimented that used to be an employee for Playtime? Whether or not they had feelings him before now they assist him with his surveillance of the facility, keep him company, and seem to want all his attention <3

The Doctor x Experiment reader

💻 He wouldn't care at first. You were only one of his experiments, and he has more important things to do now with the Prototype's assignment.

💻 However, it does intrigue him how despite what he did to you, now you're here, keeping him company. He's unsure of what motive you have. To beat him down more? Mock him for ending up in possibly an even worse state than yourself?

💻 He's cold at first. Keeping his guard up, and using his vessels to shoo you away from his work. He even sent Yarnaby after you a couple times.

💻 But you kept...coming back. Eventually he relented and let you hang around, as long as you didn't touch anything or mess with his vessels. Besides, with you around Yarnaby wouldn't be constantly in his way.

💻 He truly saw your value when he noticed you fighting with Doey and the others, keeping them out of his territory and out of his way. It became extremely difficult for the Safe Haven to gather any medical supplies because of you.

💻 You became a bit of an errand toy after that. Grabbing supplies from the upper floors, wayward files, and some general housekeeping when it came to keeping up his organ containers.

💻 You didn't really notice at first how much...kinder he was around you. Actually saying please and thank you, asking you to be safe, etc.

💻 The Prototype was FURIOUS when he saw that you were helping out Harley. You had to scream at him that you were helping the Doctor of your own volition. The Doctor didn't threaten you, hell the guy tried pushing you away at first before he tolerated you being around.

💻 This one action...basically saving him from the prototype...you...you were different.

💻 He talks to you more now. Vents his frustration and distain for his current state and how slowly his current research is taking. Tells you stories of before his tenure at the company.

💻 His last words before he shut down..."I....love...yo......."

[okaysonny]

Gun relationship hcs Pls!! I love ur fics smmm!!!😋😋

dating headcanons ╏ gun park

a/n: ptj is in a throuple with gun and his wife so you're better off asking him :/ but tysm anon! ❤️ here's my take (^_-)

✦ i won't sugar coat...you have to be good looking loool. appearances are important to him.

✦ No ambition. No determination. No will. No money. In short, losers.

yes, i think this also applies to what he likes romantically! maybe not the money bit, but he finds tenacity + aspiration attractive traits. gun finds it hella lame if you have no goal or purpose in life.

✦ independencey + competency is also very important to him. gun's days are hectic and dangerous...he doesn’t really want to spend time coddling you 😖 leaves you to your own devices (for the most part) because he knows you can look after yourself.

✦ nonchalant gimmick to the MAX with this one. i think with guarded characters like samuel, johan, xiaolung etc, you can manage to make them flustered. gun? no. do something bold/sensual and the most he'll give is one of those amused smirks 😭

✦ idk the best way to phrase this without making you seem like a tool...but because of the environment he grew up in, gun views (committed) relationships like an obligation. it's something he thinks about when he wants to settle down. so if you're dating gun, you're dating to marry.

✦ probably wants kids to continue the bloodline, but again, this is really out of (what he thinks are) obligations, because he's not fond of them 😅

✦ gun's love languages: receiving gifts + quality time.

on receiving gifts: he's rich so that #lavish lifestyle is to be expected 😇 idk if gun is the type to let you go wild on his credit card, but he gives expensive gifts, because he thinks it's a good way to show affection without saying it.

on quality time: remember when he saw him wood carving while listening to music? surprised me very much! i did not think he'd be into that 😭

i'm taking this detail and headcanoning that he enjoys tranquil hobbies in general (pottery and gardening? 🤔) to unwind from all the chaos. and these are only things he does by himself!

at a certain point in your relationship, gun invites you to join him. just silence as he hands you a knife and a block of wood. it's actually boring as fuck, like watching paint dry boring. but he wants to spend time with you!!! he's turning his 'me' time into 'me + you' time. you're terrible at wood carving, but gun doesn't mind teaching you.

✦ a cute little scenario: you're super sick and gun makes a japanese flu remedy for you. it tastes like ass ❤️

but again, this is his way of saying he cares. why would you ruin the moment ?

✦ he likes receiving: words of affirmation + acts of service.

✦ so yes, i think gun very much shows his affection though actions. he gives you his umbrella when it's raining 😆

"why don't we just share it?" gun: 😮

✦ if you want this man...please reconsider he is very weird and goo is a better bf.

✦ eventually, gun finds your relationship doesn't feel like an obligation anymore. it's his volition. 𖹭

divider: @plutism

[revelboo]

i don't really send in asks often because im much more of a lurker than an interactor, but i think its important that you know how much your work is appreciated. like im reading Everything you put out just because your work is that good and im engaged with characters i barely even Know. you've made me love characters i didn't even give a second glance to. ALSO THE MINI FIGURES. you make me crave them so bad. Everything Is Alright tugs so badly at my heart and i Eagerly await every time you update that one, it's so good and so long and definitely worthy if reread after reread

Thank you! I have a lot of fun writing these stories!

Everything Is Alright Pt 134

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “You realize Starscream is likely to take you sparking our mate without warning poorly,” Megatron adds and Soundwave vents softly. Watching as Soundwave shifts over you and slides a hand under your middle to make you whimper a sleepy protest at being moved. Hates that the soft noise lifts through him. That he likes it. And then Soundwave is mass shifting back, head sagging forward as his hands tremble faintly cupping you. Needing energon. Your head sleepily lifts before you spot him and then just groan, pressing your face against Soundwave’s palm. ‘Always when I’m naked,’ you mutter. Laughing softly, Megatron ignores that you’re not happy to see him. Pretends that it doesn’t bother him. That even though this is his habsuite, he feels like the intruder as Soundwave fixes his plating to hide away his spike and Megatron reaches to nudge your head until you shoot him a sullen look.

• Swallowing a growl and surprised that he even has the urge to growl at Megatron, Soundwave doesn’t pull you away from Megatron’s reach as the warlord smirks at your attempts to slap at his servo. Lazily toying with you. And he knows the Seeker is likely to throw a tantrum as soon as he finds out, but he can’t even bring himself to care if he upsets Starscream after what the mech had done to him and you both. “What happened to not molesting me?” You ask, smacking Megatron when he uses a servo to roll you onto your back. Growling softly, Soundwave moves you away from the warlord and Megatron shoots him a knowing look, but relents.

• Scowling and desperately wanting a shower, you try to draw your legs up against yourself so everything isn’t just on display even if you can feel Soundwave’s slick between your thighs, too used to all three of them not caring about embarrassing you to even muster the energy to care yourself. Much anyway. And eventually, Megatron is probably going to want more than spark bonding from you. “I wonder which of you is going to tell Starscream you’re sparked. Or will you just let him figure it out on his own?” Megatron asks, grinning wickedly like your misery is the funniest thing ever. Sparked? That’s right. Paling, you remember Soundwave asking and you’d pretty much begged him to. Was that what that coaxing feeling was after you fully bonded with him? Star had done something like that when he’d sparked you now that you’re thinking of it. There had been a sense of a question there like when they’d bonded you fully. Like there was a choice before that coaxing pull. Both times you’d given in to that request without a thought. Why can’t any of them ask important things when you’re not a needy mess during sex? “Of course, I could tell him,” Megatron adds. Enjoying this far too much.

• “Don’t you dare,” you hiss, little face reddening and Megatron chuckles. Ferocious little thing even though you have no way to back up the unspoken threat in your voice. And that anger of yours sparks through him. Goes straight to his spike in a flush of need. Reminding him that even though he’s fully bonded to you and carrying your new spark, he’s yet to physically claim you. Smile faltering at that, he clears his vents in a loud huff. “You blurt it out to him and I’ll never forgive you.” Chin lifting, you glare at him and he can’t understand what it is about you that makes your pitiful little threat actually matter to him.

• Star. Not looking forward to his reaction to finding out you’re fully bonded and sparked again, even though he seemed resigned to it happening. It still feels like a betrayal. Shoulders hunching, you look pleadingly up at Soundwave. Because you have to be the one to tell him. Gently. “I need a shower. And I’d kill for coffee,” you whine, not about to have this conversation with Star while Soundwave’s excess trails down your thighs. Head tipping at you, Soundwave just stares, but it’s not like he has a clue what coffee even is. ‘The shower part I can help with,’ Megatron says, gesturing toward his desk and you register the plastic draped shape tucked in a corner there. ‘The Constructicons had a few ideas.’ Watching him curiously as he gets up and reaches to tug the plastic away, you just stare. It’s a dollhouse. A human sized dollhouse. “There’s a working shower?” Because nothing else matters beyond a shower and some semblance of privacy. “I could kiss you,” you add and he hesitates like you’d just said something weird. Offended him somehow. Aliens.

Previous

[perplexingly]

heyyy i kind of caught a lot of your job search related malaise through the past weeks and as someone very much in the same boat i just wanted to say hang in there… it fucking sucks. but uh it's more likely that there's work for you than not. and you'll find it. it might take a while but please don't give up. i refuse to believe that someone with your curiosity and talent isn't needed somewhere. i hope you don't mind me dropping this here but some things i keep reminding myself of to stay sane:

some dude bringing 1 out of 5 things asked for is applying to that job you're talking yourself out of. don't preselect for them and apply

there are so many smaller and medium sized businesses drowning in work who do not have their shit together enough to actively look for someone

hiring people is incredibly important and costly for a business so there are all of these intricate structures in place that feel impossible to navigate but it all comes down to people needing people

you only need it to work once. for now.

ask your friends for help

hr people are in fact human. even if they like to pretend otherwise. also i feel like you need some hyping up so here i go: i've been following you for so long and you just keep getting better and better. i am not in most of the fandoms you draw for (is it even accurate to call arthurania a fandom??) but like i love your drawings and i wouldn't miss them for anything. your fluid lines have captivated me, the intimacy you create in your scenes i could probably live off for a while and i love the sensuality that is so inherently part of what you draw. i am reeeeally jealous of the way you stylize things i think i'm channeling you more than i realized when i try to do the same. i also deeply admire the way you get so into things, i can FEEL the love through my SCREEN!!!

hope this message isn't too much and sending you a lot of good wishes :)

Thank you, I really appreciate it and I appreciate the time you spent typing this, but at this point I really need something more concrete than advice, since that's all I've been getting, and tried to follow, for months now;;

Thank you very much for the words of encouragement though! 🙇‍♀️

[girliism]

puppy!art pissing himself and reader just laughs then ‘punishes’ him…. That’s all 😊

ohohohoh. puppy!art always ask for permission for anything, even to use the bathroom. and all day you had been nagging him to drink more water because, “it’s important you stay hydrated, pup.” so he did, but all the weight of the water he drank was heavy on his bladder begging to be released. “can i please go to the bathroom.” art whined and continued to whine when you didn’t answer him. “art, baby. can you be quiet i’m busy.” art squirmed where he stood, clenching his thighs closed. “but i really need to-” your sharp shush shut him up and he bit his lip backing away a bit. he doesn’t know what set him off but before he knew it he felt warm liquid trail down his legs and heard a soft hissing noise. “art!” you gasped. “did you just piss on yourself?” you tried and failed to hide your small laugh. “sorry, i’m sorry.” he pouted, standing in the puddle of his own piss. the humiliation he felt caused his cheeks to burn. “look at the mess you made. only bad puppy’s make messes, and bad puppy’s get punished.” you looked up at him with your arms crossed.

you didn’t bother cleaning art up just striped him of his clothes and had him sit against the headboard. “please i didn’t mean to piss on myself. i’m sorry just wanna cum.” tears streaming down his flushed face. you’ve been ruining art’s orgasms for the past five minutes as a “punishment”. “if you were really sorry you wouldn’t have done it. right?” you cocked you head to the side, and turned the vibrator you were running over art’s angry red tip on a higher setting. his cock twitched, little beads of precum dribbling out. “it was an accident just— please.” you took pity on him “fine, this next one you can cum.” you saw his eyes light up and his head fall back. “oh, th-thank you.” you jerked your hands faster and placed the vibrator right on his slit. art’s lower abs tensed and untensed, and he was letting out high little yips and moans. you knew he was close. right before he could release like you promised him, you pulled your hands off him and a loud sob broke from his pouted lips. “on second thought i changed my mind.”

[thisisjustfanfic]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{You and Xavier train. Rafayel teaches you to paint. And you have and appointment with Zayne.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Jealous!Xavier, Possessive Behavior, Mild NS!FW

Chapter 7: Checkup

After a day off, a long bubble bath, and an even longer nap, you felt marginally sane again. You would have never pegged Zayne as someone to be as modern as being in an open–? Poly? He didn’t seem to really know what it was, and how weird was that? Zayne’s parents were so traditional, you’d always assume Zayne would be the same. 

An adjustment, that’s all it was. And you spent your Sunday adjusting. Monday morning rolled around and you had forgotten about training with Xavier completely– until a soft knock came at 5:30am sharp.

You remembered it the moment you heard it, and scrambled out of bed. Calling out a hasty, “One minute!” As you scrounge for something to wear. Luckily for you, your limited wardrobe made it easy and you were dressed and ready in only a little over one minute. 

You weren’t exactly gym-chic, but who cared? Xavier clearly didn’t as he smiled brightly at you when you opened the door, “Ready?”

Your mind conjured a too-vivid fantasy of Xavier and Zayne. The sharp contrast between their light and dark– like watching sweet cream being poured into dark coffee. Your face flushed and you nodded, your voice a hoarse squeak, “ Yup.”

Xavier leads you to the gym and he makes sure the both of you have water before getting started. You weren’t sure what to expect but let him take the lead, letting him play ‘trainer and trainee’ which he seemed to enjoy. 

You started off with dynamic stretching and then some cardio. Xavier went to some stationary bikes and so you went too. Side by side, the two of you worked up a sweat for a while, too focused on keeping your heart rates up to really make conversation. 

Then it was on to strength training, and Xavier was…friendly. His fingers were warm when he adjusted your form on squats, and his eyes lingered whenever you finished a set. 

Xavier was remarkably strong for his physique– all precise lithe muscle without much bulk. Like his sword, a precise honed instrument for one thing only. You tried not to stare, but it was hard when you were supposed to be spotting him. 

You were relieved in more ways than one when the workout was over, and from routine alone you prepared yourself for combat drills and sparring next. That’s what the Hunter’s usually did. 

Only Xavier seemed to be done, and he saw your look of confusion and answered it with a proud smile, “We can work back up to sparring. How was today? Comfortable? Or too hard?”

“It was fine.” You answer, rolling your shoulders as that familiar ache settled over your body. It’d been too long since you’d pushed yourself, if you’d had to run from that statler yesterday, you’d probably be out of breath before you could get away. 

“You held yourself well before,” Xavier said, looking down at the water bottle in his hands instead of at your face, “I forgot to say it. But you did well.”

“Oh, thanks.” You said, a sparkle of pride blooming. It felt nice to be complimented on your skill in battle. You had assumed you’d made a fool of yourself, which is why Xavier had asked to train. 

“I need to get to patrol,” He explained, reaching out to place his hand on your shoulder. The thin strap of your workout shirt leaves little protection between your skin and his. His hand was larger than it appeared to be, and it expanded over the majority of your shoulder. His thumb drifted up, pressing into the tender pulse on your neck, and your breathing hitched. 

“What are you…” You breathed, but his hands squeezed slightly and your voice evaporated. 

“Checking your heart rate.” He answered your unfinished question. “It’s important to reach your target heart rate…”

You laughed and felt it shift his hand on you, “I know. Zayne reminds me of my heart a lot.”

“When do you see him next?” He asked, letting his hands fall, but sliding it down your arm as he did so.

“Wednesday. “ You replied, hoping he didn’t notice the little shiver that his benign gesture caused. 

Xavier seemed to think and then nodded, “Good. You can rest tomorrow and we’ll work out again Wednesday morning.”

It felt nice to be included and so you smiled and nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Now, off with you. I’ve got to get started on breakfast before Rafayel drags himself downstairs.”

There was a moment. A tiny almost imperceptible movement that Xavier made towards you, like he might try and hug you goodbye. But he stopped, turned, and left– taking his water bottle and towel with him.

After a quick shower, you start on breakfast. You had bought some premade pastries at the store and heated them up in the oven, and made some quick scrambled eggs. Xavier took a little longer than you to get ready; his hunter uniform is a bit more time-consuming than your sweater and pants. 

He sat down like he always did and asked about your day, what you had planned and if you were going to get your firearm soon. You answered with which rooms you were planning on cleaning and that no, you didn’t have plans for that yet. 

Zayne arrived, looking at his watch and always moving in a rush. The poor cardiac surgeon never allowed a proper breakfast, which is exactly why you got the pastries. You grabbed some parchment paper and wrapped two of the pastries up: a vanilla, and a raspberry. 

“Good morning,” Zayne greeted, setting his coat onto the counter while he moved to read messages on his phone. “Thank you, Y/N for breakfast again but I really have to–”

“I know,” You interrupted him, moving into his line of sight and handing him the warm offering, “Here. You can take it with you. Eat in the car, or in your office. Just make sure you eat.”

Zayne stared at the offered parcel like it was a prize, a sparkle in the gold of his eyes as the sweet smell of the pastries met his nose. He was such a sucker for sweets, and you felt mildly proud of yourself for thinking of it. 

“Thank you.” He said, taking the treats and then picking up his coat. He threw it over his arm and moved towards the door. You turned back to the stove, putting your back to him and heard him gently bid Xavier goodbye. The shuffle of movement makes you assume he’d given him another kiss to his temple. 

You wondered if you asked nicely if you could have one too. But that was ridiculous. Childish, even. You laughed at yourself at such a pathetic thought, but in the next moment there were fingertips in between your shoulder blades, pulling your attention away from the simmering eggs. 

You turned your head, and the fingers at your back moved to the back of your head, pulling you in so Zayne could press a quick, intentional kiss at your hairline. “Thank you, again.” He whispered into your hair, and you could only watch dumbfounded as he turned and left. 

When you finally managed to blink, you saw Xavier with his hand resting on his hand, elbow set next to his empty plate and his eyes staring you down with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Sorry,” You say quickly, turning back to the eggs and facing away from him. “I can tell him to stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You heard the barstool screech against the floor as it was scooted back. A sense of dejavu coming over you as you watch Xavier approach you from the corner of your eye.

“Why would you do that?” Xavier’s voice sounded different now. Lower and darker. 

“B-because he’s…because you two….” You cleared your throat and continued to stir the eggs, turning them more into tiny crumbles instead of thick scrambles. 

The heat from the stove became even more intense as the air around you turned icy. Xavier placed a hand next to the stove and crowded into your space, nearly pressing his back into yours. Heat leaching into you and your senses shivering like the gaze of a predator had fallen on your soft prey skin.

“The only thing wrong with what just happened…” Xavier’s voice was a hushed rumble, like thunder in the distance, “Was that I didn’t get my share…”

You swallowed hard, and tried to keep still. His breath had ghosted across the back of your neck, he must be so close. His lips were only one accidental movement away from your skin. It took more effort than you thought it would to not move. To stay completely still and not move back into him– into the awaiting expanse of him that seemed to pull at you like fishhooks in your bones. 

“Did he not..?” You stuttered, hands having stopped in their movement, “Did he not give you one?”

“No, he did.” Xavier’s hiss was at your ear now, “You said it wasn’t part of your contract…but Zayne has gotten two now, and I’ve gotten none.”

His words knocked something loose in your brain and you set the spatula down and turned. He was close. Close enough you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, and you found a black void there. It was the angriest you’d ever seen him, “What?”

The arm not braced on the countertop went around you, fingertips grazing against the curve of your spine. His eyes never left you, and his head tilted slightly, “Are you playing favorites, Miss Housekeeper?”

“Don’t–” You squeaked, “I have a name.”

The corners of Xavier’s mouth quirked up, “ Y/N , I’ll ask again. Are you playing favorites?”

Your brain, which was only partially functional at this point, came up with a sharp remark, but what left your lips was, “N-no.”

“Then I should get two, right?” Xavier asked hoarsely, “Or, something equivalent.”

You swallowed again, “Something equivalent?”

“I could give you two.” Xavier ran his fingers up and up and up your back, flattening out just beneath your shoulder blades, “Or you could give me one.”

You recalled the last time Xavier asked you about this, but that had been so different. He’d be almost curious then. Inquisitive instead of interrogatory. He had asked about Zayne’s slip up like someone was passing out candy and he’d been forgotten. This time…this time was an offense. A crime to be punished for, and he was determined to get his due. 

“I thought you were with…” Your voice was barely a whisper, and came out like a guilty plea, “I don’t understand.”

“Two?” Xavier continued darkly, “Or one?”

Your mind short circuited, the touch on your back searing into your skin and misfiring in your brain. You’d never been so overcome before, and by such an innocuous thing. He was asking for a goodbye kiss of all things, and you were getting weak in the knees like some medieval virgin that saw too much ankle. 

But something about Xavier burned so intensely. A nuclear reactor– both subdued and dangerous, and the scent of him was like some potent drug. You felt a bit lost when he was too close, a bit dreamy like you weren’t really here. Like this wasn’t really you. 

“Two.” You heard your voice reply, though you were sure your brain hadn’t thought a thing. 

Xavier hummed, pleased, and pulled you in by his hand on your back. Reflexively, you tilted your head down expecting him to kiss the same spot that Zayne had, but he used his other hand to hold your chin. Tilting your head up and pulling a gasp from your lips. 

His lips pressed against your cheek, nearly on your jaw, and your hand snapped onto his upper arm– searching for something stable to hold onto. 

“One.” He whispered, lips moving against your cheek as he only moved far enough away to inhale. 

You tilted your head back as he moved down, prostrating yourself to his teeth and his desires. He could tear your throat out, bite down and thrash like a dog and you’d let him. What a horrible delectable feeling, to be so at the mercy of someone. 

He pressed his lips again, more open this time so that when he pulled away you felt the cool dot of saliva he left behind, “Two.”

A barely audible whimper escaped you, and you weren’t sure whether to faint or to fight anymore. Xavier pulled away, looking smug and victorious, “There, now I’ll be twice as lucky today.”

He let you go slowly, almost making sure you could stand on your own before he stepped away. On his way out he grabbed a warm pastry, stuffing it in his mouth like his victory meal and leaving the house like a conquering hero. 

You were stuck there. Breathless and standing on a knife’s edge. A part of you wanting to sink into the sticky, syrupy feeling of affection– and the other buzzing with anger at being manipulated. What was that? What was the point of that? 

As soon as you feel like you understand things, then they go and do something else! 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, only that the smell of burning eggs is what broke you from your spiraling thoughts. You quickly moved the eggs and sighed exasperatedly at the black char on the bottom of them. 

Stupid Xavier and his angelic eyes and his devil tongue. Stupid Zayne and his savored affection and sweet touch. They would be the death of you, if something else didn’t get you first. You felt like a bone being tossed into a lion’s den, gnawed at and exposed for their enjoyment. 

Were you a bone to starving lions? Or lion yourself? You realized the only reason you were struggling so much was the idea that you would ruin whatever it was that was going on between them. You were many things, but you weren’t a homewrecker. You wouldn’t participate if it meant coming between them, despite Xavier and his…persuasion.

Cleaning keeps your mind and your body busy. You were sore from your workout from Xavier but it worked in keeping you from thinking too much about your interaction that morning. 

You were debating telling Zayne about it, for transparency's sake. But that made your stomach curl in on itself. What would you even say? ‘Hey, your not-boyfriend demanded a goodbye kiss this morning and I trembled like a touch-starved virgin?’

You sighed and shook your head as you put away the cleaning caddy you had been using, “I should just leave.” You whisper to yourself.

“Where are you going?” A voice spoke from behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

Rafayel grinned down at you, hands on his hips and his shirt covered in splotches of paint.

“What?” You questioned as you let your heart recover from the scare.

“You said you were going to leave, where are you going?” Rafayel shifted his weight onto one foot and jutted out his hip.

“No where.” You replied as you shut the door on the supply closet, “I was just thinking.”

The smudge of pale lavender paint on the side of Rafayel’s lips stretched as he frowned, and he looked unconvinced. He clicked his tongue and you saw him move on from that thought.

“Come with me, I need your eyes.” Rafayel reached out and took your hand, his palm was warm but his fingertips cool and you hoped he didn’t mind the slight dampness on yours.

“You need my eyes?” You repeated as he dragged you along towards his studio. 

Cool, ventilated air hit you as you entered his creative domain. A fan in the corner stirring up a sketchbook and fluttering its canvas pages. It made it almost too cool for comfort here, but Rafayel didn’t seem to mind. 

“I started a new series.” Rafayel explained as he pulled you to the low goldenrod couch. With a little maneuvering he sat you down and then walked over to grab a large square canvas that was leaning against a work table. “Tell me what you think.”

Rafayel held up the canvas in front of him, his paint stained fingers careful to remain along the edges. 

“I’m hardly qualified to critique your work,” You protested.

Rafayel’s pout nearly made you cackle, “You do it. Tell me if it’s too waiting-room.”

You sighed and examined the work. It was soft. That was your first thought. Clearly a depiction of flowers floating on the surface of water. Though it was hazy, the edges all softened and slightly blurred. Dreamlike and ethereal but still very real. Like you could reach out and feel the softness of the petals or ripple the surface of the water.

“It’s beautiful.” You say as you sit up a bit straighter. “It’s so soft. How do you make it feel so glowy?”

Rafayel peers around the edge of his painting and then back to you, “Blending mostly. Reflected light, and making sure the color palette is cohesive.”

He sits the painting down and goes back to you, bending down to take your hand that was sitting on your knee. “Here I’ll show you.” 

And again, you’re being pulled. You pass by three more paintings on the floor that match the one he showed you, all flowers on different liquid surfaces. One is multicolored and iridescent and the flowers are surrounded with bubbles like they’re floating in a bath. Another on shifting wine-dark seawater, edged with churning foam.

He brings you to an easel in the corner, a few other unfinished paintings sit on the floor discarded and a large rectangular canvas sits on its ledge. A workstation is sat next to it, a glass palette on top of it and several containers of long paintbrushes alongside it.

“Sit,” He directs as he pulls a stool over and sets you on in. Placed directly in front of the canvas you feel too much like a kid in front of a fragile vase. One wrong move and it’s shattered. 

Rafayel’s hand settles on your back, sliding down to rest at the base of your spine as he plucks a paintbrush out and hands it to you.

“Hold it back here.” He shows you with his own hand, “And let us just barely touch the canvas.” 

You jerk back as he begins to guide your hand to the painting, “I can’t. I’ll ruin it!”

“There is no ruining it.” Rafayel’s voice is a rumble in your ear, “Just changing. Now, let the brush just barely touch the surface and swirl it. Like tickling it.” 

You can’t help but giggle softly and let Rafayel hold his hand over yours as the paintbrush barely kisses the wet paint. The forget-me-nots have barely come into fruition, Rafayel must have been working on them still as he slides his and your hands to feather the edge of a petal, blending it into the crystalline water.

“Good.” Rafayel coos and you feel his voice as much as you hear it. It slides down you like a shot of liquor sending a shiver down your spine and heat in your belly. 

The fingertips on your back feel like they press harder into you, but you’re sure that’s your imagination.

“Now you try.” Rafayel lets go of your hand. You turn your head to look at him but his expression is unreadable.

“Are you sure?” You ask, still worried about somehow ruining his work.

Rafayel grins, “I’ll just have to make sure you sign your name next to mine on this one. Since you did help.” 

You laugh, “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious, cutie. Your hands have touched it, so I can’t take full credit.” Rafayel hummed and watched you hesitantly continue to blend.

He steps onto your other side and he lowers his chin down onto your shoulder. The weight of him makes you freeze and then your head, but that makes your hair shift over him. And your face was far too close to his.

“How are you getting along?” He asks, eyes glued to the canvas and your frozen brush. You feel the rumble of his voice on your back, “With the others?”

“Oh…um…” Words are hard when you're this flustered. A sane part of you argues for your personal space, but another sadder more starved part of you hushes the other. 

You clear your throat before continuing, “It’s going well. Zayne explained a little about your situation.”

His chin shifts, head tilting closer into your neck, “He did?”

You nod and try to focus on the other flower and not the addition of his hands in your waist, “Mhmm. I got to talk more with Sylus the other day, and Xavier has offered to train with me. It’s nice. I feel like we can all be friends, you know?”

Rafayel huffs and his breath tickles your neck, “Friends, huh?”

He shifts, moving to press himself against your back fully. Boldly. A low inquiring rumble vibrates behind you. “I feel like I should warn you about your new friends , then.”

The seriousness in his tone contrasts against the warm lighting and the tenderness in his touch. Like his body and voice weren’t connected at all. Because he holds you like someone cradles something precious– like he’d held his painting not a few minutes before. Keeping his fingers along the edge to preserve the image. 

But his voice is a drawl. The low tone of a bow across a cello, setting a tone of solemn disdain. He sounded disappointed, or maybe irritated? He was hard to define, and harder to know. It felt like each time you saw him he was something new, and you had to learn all over again. 

“How so?” You whisper, his hand gliding up the curve of your waist and trailing down your arm back to your wrist. His long fingers wrap around you, and pull your brush over to the palette. As if you were his paintbrush, he effortlessly swishes the bristles into smears of his mixed paints, picking up form blobs around the corner to create a deeper hue. 

In an act of puppetry, Rafayel draws you back to the painting and begins to paint with your hand. His chest stretched across your shoulder and his breath brushing against your ear. The silence in the room deafened by the soft brush of his exhale. 

“Zayne is clueless.” Rafayel said, his lips quirking upwards, “For someone so smart, he rarely knows what’s going on. Don’t count on him for answers. Come to me instead.”

His face was on the other side of you now, and you turned to argue in defense of your friend. But Rafayel was already looking at you, smirking. He continued, silencing your protest before it began, “Sylus is a glutton. Don’t give him anything you aren’t willing to give up completely. Unless you want him following you around like a lost little puppy, don’t bother with him.”

The spark of irritation you had felt for Zayne is only stoked higher. You didn’t know Sylus well, if at all, but he hardly deserved to be talked down to like that. A sense of defensiveness swelled in your chest, and you were scowling at him, open mouth ready to argue.

“And Xavier’s a liar.” Rafayel continued, no one in the house safe from his critique it seemed, “He wants to train? Yeah, right. He wants to hoard your time. He’s worse than Sylus sometimes, and he’s twice as jealous.”

You scoff, believing now that Rafayel was making stuff up just to confuse you, “Jealous? Of what?”

The hand holding your wrist and glissading across the canvas stopped, and the grip tightened. Rafayel’s alexandrite eyes turned on you like the sight of a bow, and an arrow was knocked. 

His other arm wrapped around your waist, sliding until his hand was firmly gripping your hip and squeezing until it almost hurt. A darkness brewed in his eyes, expanding like cold-front of an ocean storm. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling pinned. Worse than this morning when Xavier had crowded you up against the countertop. That felt like being cornered. This felt like being snared. You were tangled in a net and the more you moved the worse it got. 

“Of anything and everything that takes your attention away from him.” Rafayel’s words brushed against you, his lips so close. 

You were breathing fast, ensnared in the multicolor of his eyes and the heat from him leaching into you.

“He’s bad at sharing.” Rafayel looked slightly amused at the rabbit-like wideness to your eyes, “The worst of us.”

“I didn’t…” Nonsense is all that could escape you. “I don’t want to get between.”

“Oh cutie .” Rafayel’s hand around your wrist slid down, flicking the paintbrush out of your fingers and letting it clatter to the floor. He grabbed your palm and drew it close. You were completely wrapped up in him now. A little guppy tangled up in the paralyzing fingers of an anemone. “ Are you sure about that?”

Your heart stopped, “What?”

Rafayel grinned and suddenly the ear-popping pressure of his presence backed off. The arm around your waist slid back to settle benignly at your spine, and the hand clenched around yours eased. He blinked and the storm in his eyes was replaced with sunny playfulness, “Don’t worry so much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

You could feel him dismiss this, and frowned, “No, what do you mean? I’m not trying to get in between you guys. I’m not that kind of person.”

“You’re not? That’s a shame.” Rafayel took a step back and you felt you might fall off your stool without him for a moment. He placed his hands on his hips, taunting you, “It’s too bad you’re already there.”

“What’s that mean?” You stand up, “If I’m causing problems I’ll leave. Is Xavier mad at me? Is that why he–”

“He what?” Rafayel’s chin lowered.

You huffed, “Zayne kissed me goodbye this morning. On the forehead, nothing crazy. And Xavier wanted one too. Only he…he wanted a slightly different one.”

Rafayel scoffs, “He tries to act so cool, but he’s so predictable sometimes. I knew he’d break first. Look cutie, stop thinking of us like some four-way engagement that you’ll somehow put a wedge in. Stop tiptoeing and overthinking.”

“I’m just here to clean. “ You raise your hands in a wall in front of you, “I got put on leave at my job and kicked out of my apartment. That’s the only reason why I’m here. I think you’re overthinking this.”

Rafayel crossed his arms, “Oh, yeah? Well, the last two housekeepers lasted less than a week each. Xavier never even saw them, and you can bet Zayne wasn’t giving them little good-bye kisses. Sylus avoided them like the plague and when he did see them  he made sure to put the fear of God into them. Regardless of how you got here, you’re here now. And it’s different.”

You cross your arms, an unconscious movement to seek some comfort. It was overwhelming to imagine that all four of them liked you enough to not only keep you around but to want you here. 

“Well, save your declarations of love until after I clean your studio.” You say, hoping to deflect some of this pressure. “I’ll be sure to move everything.”

Rafayel laughs and steps forward, reaching out like he might place his hand on the side of your face, but changing his mind at the last second. “Just let me know if you change any of them. So you can sign them too.”

__________________

You spend Tuesday in Rafayel’s studio. He spends a remarkable amount of time not painting. Lazing about on the couch, or flipping through sketchbooks. He mumbles to himself and scrolls on his phone, and only precious few moments are spent actually working. 

It confounds you that he can be such a popular and famous artist if this is how his days look. 

You don’t know why you're irritated with him, and when you first enter his studio its with the intention to wreck it. It wouldn’t occur to you later that anger is just the replacement for confusion, and frankly– embarrassment. 

It takes less than an hour for you to change your mind. You meticulously flatten out the crumpled pieces of sketchbook paper and lay them in a stack. Trash is still thrown away, and the floor is swept in piecemeal. You pick up tubes of paint, wipe beneath them, and place them exactly where they were before. Canvases are shifted to sweep behind and then put back.

Your threat of moving everything turns into an apologetic, agonizing amount of effort to not do that. There is love in Rafayel’s work, and it feels too wrong to try and wound him that way. 

So, you clean the studio and it looks the same as when you started sans scattered papers, trash, dust bunnies, etc. It’s all around just a shinier, more pristine chaos. 

Rafayel tries on more than one occasion to get you to help him again. He lures you in with inquiries about color choices. Which paint brush is your favorite? Can you hold this for me? Here, stand there, you can be my model. No, don’t pout at me miss housekeeper. I’m serious!

The tempestuous aura he had yesterday is gone, replaced by a more familiar pestering. It’s easier to deal with, and honestly a bit fun. He pouts so childishly when you deny him. 

It takes you all day to finish the studio and you’re so exhausted you text Zayne you can’t make dinner and then promptly pass out. 

Wednesday morning rolls around and you wake up before your alarm. Your heart is racing and stomach fluttering. You’d promised to train with Xavier again today before your appointment with Zayne. Your last interaction with the blond has left you unsure of what to expect, and you’re equal parts confused and buzzing with anticipation. 

Xavier knocks on your door and smiles at you with that blinding sweetness. You’re dressed and ready this time, and follow him to the gym like nothing has changed. Had it?

He pushes a little harder today. Like he wanted to make sure you feel it. It distracts you enough to all but forget about the last time Xavier was close to you. The possession in his touch and how you knew for almost certain it wasn’t because of his feelings for Zayne. 

You’re panting and tired by the time you’re done, and only when you're nearly ready to tap out does Xavier relent. 

Xavier tells you you're done and you collapse out of your plank onto the padded floor below. You hear his soft chuckle from above and then his gentle fingers nudging your hair to the side. They trail downward to palm at your shoulder and he helps you up. 

“You did well.” He crooned. His crooked fingers lift your chin and place your water bottle to your lips, letting you drink– keeping you there until he’s satisfied you’ve hydrated enough. 

“Thanks.” You pant in between gulps of air. Leveling out, you go to stand but Xavier is there, offering his hand which you take. He hauls you up and keeps his hand in yours like you might be unsteady. It’s not until you look at your clasped hands that he lets go. 

You part ways and the rest of the morning plays out the same as it had before, only Zayne isn’t there. A note and a text both letting you know he had to leave early. His pretty handwriting on a little sticky note which also assures you that he has eaten. 

You make breakfast and Xavier eats his portion. He thanks you, puts his dish in the sink and then comes to your side. His hand sliding across your back to keep you in place. 

Xavier’s laugh is low as you look up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth. He tilts his head, “Does it make you uncomfortable? If it’s not Zayne?”

Your mouth falls open, “No. I mean…maybe. It’s new. That’s all.”

“New.” He repeats the word like he's tasting it. Letting it mull in his mouth as his brows tilt downward. He blinks and focuses back on you, “So then– one, or two?”

Your stomach flips and you keep your clammy hands clenched, “One.”

Xavier’s smile could blind someone someday. It’s a hazard and should be regulated, surely. You nearly stumble and the genuine eagerness that appears in his face. The teasing and amusement melting into something so deeply, and emphatically pure.

He happily lowers his head down for you, closing his eyes like you might bestow him a crown. You can’t help but laugh, for all his boyish charms he’s still ridiculously tall and has to practically kneel so you can kiss his forehead. 

Call it a spark of insanity, or perhaps a lack of self-preservation, you step forward, placing your foot in between his. You pinch his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, maneuvering as you wish as you tilt him up slightly. 

His eyes open and he looks so caught off guard that he might faint. You lean in, and Xavier’s breathing stops. 

When you press a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose, a ragged vulnerable exhale leaves him. Like you’ve wounded him, but simultaneously blessed him too. A too-raw expression making you wonder if you miscalculated. 

“Only one, right?” You ask, all the bravado leaving you at the sudden flash in his eyes. You can almost see him debate, closing the distance himself as his eyes flick down to your lips before going back up again. 

He closes his eyes and nods, “Right. Only a normal amount of luck then.”

You laugh lightly as Xavier straightens up, “Be careful, yeah?”

Xavier pauses to give you another affirming nod and then leaves. 

When you’re alone in the kitchen, you exhale like you’ve just run a marathon and continue with preparing the other two’s breakfast. You’ve learned by now to just put them in containers for whenever they decide to eat. 

Maybe Rafayel was right, and you need to stop overthinking. It did feel remarkably good to just….enjoy. 

You realize you should have asked Xavier for a ride when you realize you don’t have your own transportation less than thirty minutes later. It pains you to order a taxi– the price alone makes your chest hurt, but it's not like it's your last dime anymore. Which is nice. 

The ride to the hospital is spent with its normal amount of pre-appointment nerves. Zayne is ruthless when it comes to your health, and it doesn’t help that you can’t exactly lie to him and tell him anymore. Not when he knows every meal you eat and the amount of sleep you’re getting. 

You greet the receptionist and wait less than five minutes before Zayne comes out to get you. He’s wearing an emerald button up and charcoal vest under his white coat today, and he looks so very good in green. The lab coat doesn’t hurt either. 

His office doubles as an exam room for his patients, and you go over to the table and sit on the crunchy paper when he directs you to. 

The first part is always the same. Vitals. Heart Rate, O2, Blood pressure. He takes a small blood sample and listens to your heart with a good old-fashioned stethoscope. There was plenty of technology that made stethoscopes unnecessary in many cases, but Zayne always said he liked to do things with his own hands, and listen with his own ears.

“How have you been sleeping?” He asks as he scribbles down a note with the stylus on the tablet next to him. “Any more disruptions?”

You shake your head, “I’m sleeping fine. I hardly wake up at night anymore.”

“That’s good.” Zayne replies coolly, “I’m reluctant to prescribe my heart patients with sleeping medication.”

“How are you sleeping?” You turn back to him, “You’ve been at the hospital a lot lately.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes flicker up to you and he shakes his head, “I go where I’m needed. There’s been more fluctuations lately.”

“Ah, I see.” You reply lamely. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need sleep. Are you still sleeping in your office?”

Zayne’s eyes narrow, “I believe this is your examination. Not mine.”

“I worry. That’s all.” You reply quickly. “So, what’s the prognosis, doctor Zayne? How long do I have?”

“I hate those jokes, you know that.” Zayne condemns with an icy look, “You’re doing well. Your vitals are slightly better than the last appointment, and the preliminary blood work is acceptable.”

You nod as Zayne goes over to his desk and you hop down from the exam table to follow him. He places his tablet down next to his computer and then turns back to you, “I’d like you to eat more iron, and make sure you’re resting when you can.”

“Xavier kissed me.”

It’s not the reply you intended, but it’s what came out. Zayne doesn’t physically react beyond looking up at you sharply. 

“What?”

You pick at your nails and scramble to pick up the pieces of your sudden confession. “It wasn’t too crazy or anything! He wanted a goodbye kiss too! And then he did it twice, and then this morning I kissed him back.”

Zayne was silent. His middle fingertip tapping against the lacquered wood of his desk was the only movement besides his eyes. They searched your face and then closed.

“I didn’t want to keep it from you.” You say quickly, “He said… and Rafayel– I’m sorry.”

Oh god, you fucked it up. You crossed a line. You were a homewrecker! You’d crushed Zayne’s heart by kissing his boyfriend and you’d let Rafaye convince you it was ok! You were definitely fucking his studio up now. No canvas was safe. 

“I see.” His voice in a deadly timbre, and you freeze. He approaches you slowly, a deadly prowl like the languid elegance of a jaguar. “Did he make you uncomfortable?

You lick at your lips, feeling suddenly dry, “No. Not really.”

Zayne nods and reaches out, holding your chin and resting his thumb against your bottom lip. The coolness of his touch makes your knees wobble. Zayne never touches you. Never initiates anything beyond chaste and familial contact. This is…

“Was it here?” Zayne asks, eyes locked on where his thumb pulls down your lower lip ever so slightly. 

You try not to move, afraid if you do he’ll flee. This delicate blossom of intimacy he’s given you too precious to lose. 

“N-no.” You whisper, barely moving your lips. His touch becomes a bit firmer, pressing into both your top and bottom lip and you resist the urge to kiss it properly. You’re suddenly very aware of your tongue too. 

“Where then?” Zayne’s whispering now, reserved still like he’s afraid to know the answer. He lets his head drift away from your chin, the backs of his fingers brushing against your cheek.

“M-my cheek first.” You explain, confessing like a child to their teacher. You felt like you were in trouble, but being honest would keep you out of a worse punishment.  Reaching up, you point to the place on your jaw where Xavier had kissed first. “Then…” You swallow, “Then my neck.”

You point that out too, and Zayne’s eyes follow the movement. 

“And you?” Zayne cups your jaw and swipes his thumb over where Xavier had kissed over two days ago. “Where did you kiss him?”

“On the nose. This morning.” You confess. 

Zayne blinks, the gears in his labyrinthine mind turning. You wouldn’t wager a bet to even guess what he was thinking. Flip flopping between fear and tenuous hope. 

His other hand goes to rest on your upper arm, and draws you in. 

“Zayne,” You whisper, moving along with him as he uses the hand on your jaw to tilt your face up. “Are you…Are you mad at me?”

Zayne replies with a hum, “I’m not sure.”

A stab to your gut, you scramble for more apologies. Willing to fall on your sword to gain his forgiveness again. 

“Don’t misinterpret me,” Zayne says a bit firmer, “You’re free to do as you wish. As is Xavier. I just…find myself…” 

He exhales and it sounds like it shakes, but you chock that up to your delirious imagination. 

“I didn’t want to cross that line with you.” Zayne sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to you. “I wanted to keep things professional, so you weren’t uncomfortable. But…but I find myself thinking of it more and more lately. Dreaming of it.”

You sink into his hold, the fear of his anger evaporating at his ragged words. “Dreaming of what?”

The hand on your jaw moves back down to place the tips of his middle and forefinger at the curve of your cupid’s bow, drawing a line down to the corner. “Can I have this spot? Can I ?”

You're suddenly dizzy, and worry for a moment that the taxi you rode here in is in a ditch and you're living out some pre-death fantasy, high on chemicals just before you die. 

Zayne’s head tilts to the side, taking you in. The moment stretches on for ages as your mind– sticky with his honeyed words– slowly begins to understand. He wants to kiss you. He’s asking to kiss you. 

The moment the realization hits you’re nodding and shifting forward, but Zayne is already there. Sliding his hand across your jaw and into your hair, intertwining his fingers as much as he can without grabbing it. 

His lips are warm as they press against you, pushing and pushing until you’re reeling from the pressure. He shifts and you follow, a slow sweet kiss sliding down into something richer. 

Hungry is the word you think of when you feel his lips ply at yours, opening you up from closed-mouth pecks into something more open and wet. Your first taste of him is so deafening you don’t even realize what it is, your mind three steps behind your body. 

Cool and sweet. Like soft butter mints. 

You wonder what you must taste like to him as he draws his teeth against your bottom lip. It must be good because he groans like he’s been wounded, and dives back in with more fervor and heat than before. 

The backs of your legs knock into his desk, a picture frame clattering over and onto the floor. It goes unheard and unnoticed as Zayne’s hands leave your hair to claw at your leg, pulling you up to sit on the edge of the desk. 

You whine into his mouth. A willingly and eager participant as you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close. A hedonistic thrall that entwines you both.

 A man possessed. Completely overcome and rendered down to nothing but physicality. His brain must be off, and you were glad it was. Lucid Zayne would never shift the books next to your hips to the side. Never hook his fingers under your knee to ply them apart so he could fit between them. 

He’d never use the wide expanse of his shoulders to hunch over you, slowly but surely pressing you further and further into the desktop. 

“ So sweet.” He groans under his breath and it slides down your spine like the hit of a drug. Settling in your core and you can’t help the breathy moan you answer him with. 

Your mewl is met with a roll of his hips. And it’s the most mind-numbing friction and simultaneously not enough. You cling to him as he grinds again, caught up in his own mind-numbing sensations. 

“We can’t…” You have just enough sense to whisper, remembering where you are. Zayne growls and drags his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking a mark onto your pulse. 

Zayne doesn’t seem to care. Continuing to move his clothed hips against yours until you’re close to tears. Close to begging him to just shift some clothes to the side. Move whatever he has to to get closer. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Like a death knell on the room, Zayne freezes mid thrust. His hips pressed firmly against yours. You’re holding onto his shoulders for dear life, wrinkling his pristine, white coat and his glasses are halfway down his nose. 

“ Dr. Zayne, your next patient is here. I’ve been messaging.”

“Shit.” You curse at the sound of the kind, but timid nurse on the other side of the door. 

“Give me five minutes.” Zayne answers, voice even– like he’d caught up reading a book and not tearing you apart. 

“Zayne.” You say quietly, unsure of what to do now.

He stands up and takes you with him, sitting up on his desk and moving to correct your shifted clothing. With a stern expression, he preens your hair and wipes at your face. 

“I got carried away.” He sounds guilty and you can’t help but laugh.

“I didn’t mind.” You say, hoping he’ll smile. He does. 

He adjusts his clothing and fixes his glasses, “We shouldn’t do this at the hospital.”

You laugh again and shake your head, holding his hand as he helps you off the desk. You help him pick up the scattered decor and set the photo back up. An old photo of when he’d graduated college, his parents standing next to him. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t–” He clears his throat, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You firmly shake your head, “No you didn’t hurt me. Just the opposite. Unless you start spouting about this being a mistake. That would hurt.”

Zayne reaches out, petting your hair and placing his forehead to the top of yours, “Never. We got carried away, but this was not a mistake.”

“Good,” You reply. “I should go though, before she comes back.”

“Right.” Zayne looks physically reluctant to step away, but he manages it. “I’ll be home for dinner. I’ll see you then.”

You squeeze his hand, the last part of him to let go and then step away. “I’ll see you then.”

__________________________

You’re giddy the whole ride home. Buzzing with returned affection while simultaneously straining under unreleased tension. Any discomfort forgotten until you get to your room. 

You rush up the stairs, thankful no one else is around to see you flee. Locking the door behind you, you throw yourself down onto your bed, fully intending on sliding your hand down your pants as soon as you can. The remnants of Zayne’s touch enough to make you heart-poundingly desperate. 

Only you feel something under you. And you move to see what it is. 

A black box, wrapped in satiny black wrapping and a pretty crimson bow on top. You check for a tag, but find none. A little confused, you open it. Sliding it open and finding another box within. Only this one is more industrial and familiar. A gun case for a handgun. You flick open the latch and open it, surprised to see a 9mm handgun. Carbon black and trimmed with red. The handle and barrel are carved with a pretty scrolling script and down the lines of it are embedded with shiny red resin. It's tasteful. It's elegant. 

Checking the safety you lift it from its cushiony box and examine it closer. When you lift it however, you hear soft tinkling. And see a charm as been hooked to it– a juvenile addition to a very pretty gun. 

At the end of the chain is the cutesy head of a black cat. Smiling and round. It looked like something you’d win in a claw machine. And surely could not have come with a gun like this. 

You look back into the gun case and see a note, which had been placed underneath the firearm. 

A single folded card.

An extra claw for the kitten.

S

You huff in amusement and examine the gun again. Did Sylus really get you a gun? It’s extravagant and a bit odd, but you like it. It’s been a long time since you’d held a gun, and the weight of it was familiar and a bit exhilarating. 

A thought occurred to you as you placed the gun back into its case. Were you being wooed right now?

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[sunseed-fandump]

Someone asked for a post with some of my personal writing tips, so uh here I go I guess!

When I'm writing, I tend to follow 5 points. And they're actually really simple!!

Ask Questions

Do Your Research

"How Does It Move The Plot Forward?"

Consistency = Plausibility

Take Notes!!!

Lemme break it down:

1) Ask Questions

And I mean a LOT of questions. Have a little nagging annoying guy in your brain who is always asking you "why?" because 9 times out of 10, trying to answer those questions is going to help a lot in the long run. And occasionally it'll help you circle back to previous answers!

Here's an example that I vaguely recall from another post here on tumblr (alas i don't remember the username and i cannot find it, but if someone finds it please link it in replies!;;) :

"These Vampires have a problem where they can't be out in the day, but they want to stay within this city." "Well, why don't they just live in the sewers?" "They can't live in the sewers because there's vampire eating alligators down there." "Why are there alligators in the sewers?" "A vampire hunting organization trained them and put them down there." "Why did they put alligators in the sewers?" "To keep vampires out."

Boom, simple. Sometimes you only have to go a few layers deep, so don't worry about making complex systems or ten billion years worth of fictional history (unless you really REALLY want to for some reason).

But yeah, ask questions. Annoy yourself with them. It helps develop a lot, not just for story but also for characters! Entire stories can be created by asking yourself a single "What if" question.

What if food started raining from the sky?

What if we lived in a world where people were capable of controlling the elements?

What if a ghost started haunting a school to search for their killer?

Ask questions!!!

2) Do Your Research

I know, I know, "studying??? EW!!" But trust me this is also important. Study the genre(s) you want your story to be. Look at the things you enjoy, things you find interesting. Are you a history geek? Look at historical stories and pull inspiration from that. Do you like sea creatures? Then pop open the dozens of available resources and fun fact websites. Research your genre's common tropes and pitfalls. Look at what you really like about that genre and build off of that. Pull from anywhere and everywhere, even your own personal life/experience! EVERYTHING can be used to fuel the creative fire!

3) "How Does It Move the Story Forward?"

THIS is a VITAL question that you should ALWAYS ask yourself which is why it has its own little category. If you have a scene you feel is stagnant, or slow, or its just not coming to you, then it's probably because the story isn't moving forward. Go back, read it over, and ask yourself "is this moving the plot? is this progressing a character's arc? is this progressing the villain's plan? What is the audience supposed to take away from this? What is the point I am trying to make with this scene?"

Even when it seems like something isn't happening, a story is ALWAYS in motion. Keep that in mind!

4) Consistency = Plausibility

This is mostly for fantasy/sci-fi stories. Anything that has a magical or highly technological system. If Big Billy Jones can pick up a car and throw it at a group of thugs in chapter 3 of your story, then he sure as hell can do that in chapter 24 when he's facing off with Ghuthu'lock the Abyssal Horror. But if you dont WANT Ghuthu'lock going down to a mere mortal vehicular machine, then give him some power or ability that lets him totally negate Big Billy Jones' car flail attack. Don't just make Billy decide to NOT throw the car, when in any other situation he WOULD throw it.

In the funny words of Schaffrillas: "SHOOT THEM WITH THE DEHYDRATION GUN"

5) Take Notes!!!

This one helps a LOT. This will make your life so much easier, especially if you are dealing with a multi-chapter monster of a story. Taking notes will help you keep consistency, will keep your research in line, will help you visualize your thought process, AND with all those thoughts and plot points written down and out of your head, that will give your brain more space for NEW ideas. WRITE. DOWN. EVERYTHING. Even if it's 2AM and you're tired as fuck. If you get an idea, and you're like "Oh that's pretty good" WRITE IT DOWN IMMEDIATELY. Because you are GOING to forget, and/or the idea will NOT be the same the next time you remember it. Even if they're messy, you can organize them later!! Write it all down! Even if its just bullet points! They don't need to be fancy, they just need to get the point across and help you jog your memory!

Take notes!!!

Lastly, Be Willing to Change.

While writing any script, novel, whatever, you will find yourself bouncing around between phases like character creation, world building, plot writing, back to character creation, etc.

You'll be 7 chapters in and realize "i need a new character here" or "i don't like this aspect of the setting and its dragging everything else down..." Hell, an entire story's genre can wind up being changed if you feel the characters would be a better fit for a comedy instead of a drama (or vice versa!)

Don't be afraid to go back and fix it! Nothing is really "locked in" while you're writing! Creating ANYTHING is not a linear process, so be ready and willing to switch gears when you feel like you need to add/take away. Jump around, get messy with it, and most importantly, have FUN!!!

[invisible-lint]

Fixing Spring: Chapter 2

Tamlin x Reader

Summary: Tamlin works on his apology skills

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1k

Chapter 1

You lounge in the chair, sipping from your glass to hide your grimace. The physical work you and Tamlin had filled your days with has been easy compared to this. It turns out he is truly terrible at apologizing. 

"Tamlin. For the last time stop explaining yourself. An apology isn't supposed to be about you. It's about how what you did impacted the other person." 

"I really think the motivation behind the action is important. I-" he's cut off by the apple you throw at him, hitting him square in the chest. He's stopped growling at you when you throw things at him, but still glares.

"I'm sorry I threw that apple at you. I'm growing tired of hearing you say the word motivation. It almost certainly will happen again, because somehow despite having a small army of older brothers, you manage to be more annoying than all of them. Do you think that is an effective apology? Do you feel better?"

He crosses his arms, glowering at you, but there isn't much heat behind it. 

"I suppose I can see your point." 

You smile sweetly, settling back into your chair. "I thought you might. And don't forget that you decided to arm me with the bowl of apples." 

"You asked me to pass it over to you!" 

"I can always find a spray bottle instead."

"I'm not a poorly behaved dog!"

"I'm not sure you want me to comment on that." 

He does growl at you then, patience wearing thin.

You sigh, expression growing soft. 

"Tam, I'm hard on you because I know you're better than this. I know you are more than capable." You throw another apple, grinning when he catches it. "And like it or not, it's either help you get your shit together or hope the male I unfortunately call a father doesn't decide the Autumn court should be bigger. Which neither of us want."

"Because you like me or because you hate your father?" 

"A healthy mix of both. Now try it again. Lucien is going to be here at the end of the week. I'm sure you can have a passable apology by then." 

You watch Tamlin as he takes a bite out of the apple, leaning against the desk next to your chair. He opens his mouth, about to practice his apology again, but hesitates, mouth quirking down into a frown.

"What is it?" 

"I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness. I'll still apologize to Lucien, he deserves as much. But when... if he chooses to forgive me, it is more than I deserve." 

You take his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We've talked about the self loathing."

He shakes his head. "This isn't self loathing. I'm reflecting, like you said I should. I was so terrible to Lucien. And to you. I sent Feyre away, knowing the fate I was dooming us all to. And then afterwards... I was so focused on trying to protect her, trying to find a way to break the bargain, that I drove myself halfway to madness with the fear of losing her. And then I did anyway, not in spite of what I was trying to do, but because of it. I have done everything so wrong, and hurt the people I care about most. Including you. And there are no words I can say that will change it or fix what I have done. I am so sorry, but that doesn't feel like enough." 

"No," you agree. "But it's a start. We can't change the past, but we can learn from it and try to grow so we don't make the same mistakes again." 

Tamlin nods, carefully nudging your chin up with the back of his hand so that he can look into your eyes, sincerity shining in his eyes. The tenderness of the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. 

"I owe you an apology too. I promised refuge when you left your home. And I failed to provide it. I hurt you with the choices I made, and I didn't listen when you tried talking sense into me. I am so sorry.  I do not deserve the kindness or help you have given me, but am so incredibly grateful for it. There is nothing I can do that will truly make up for what I have done, for what a terrible friend I have been to you, but I will spend the rest of my life trying.”

You ignore the way your heart twists when he says friend, shoving it away to unpack later, a small smile forming on your lips.

“See, I knew you could do it. That was a pretty good apology.”

“I meant every word of it.”

“I know. And I accept your apology. Although I do think there's one more thing you should apologize to me for. I was so right about Ianthe.” 

He breathes out a small laugh, relieved that that's what it was. “You were right. I should have listened to you.” 

“Oh, that's even better than getting an apology. I don't think any of my brothers have told me I'm right, despite how often I am. Lucien may be your best friend, but I am your best advice friend.” 

He chuckles, ignoring the way his heart twists in his chest when you refer to yourself as his friend. Now is not the time to think about that, there's so much to do still, he’ll have time to think about it later. You're tugged up suddenly, pulled into a hug. You lean into the embrace, wrapping your arms around him, glad that he can't see the look of surprise splashed across your face from this angle. 

“I've never appreciated you enough. And I should have. What would I do without you?” 

“Probably wander Spring as a smelly beast for the rest of your life.”

He laughs fully, and the sound has you smiling into his shoulder. “It can't have been that bad.”

You pull your face away from his shoulder looking at him with mock sincerity. “Tamlin, that was the worst smell I have ever smelled. And I grew up with seven older brothers.” 

He laughs again, smiling at you fondly, an emotion you can't name in his eyes. You untangle yourself from his arms, taking a step back as you realize you'd do anything to have him keep looking at you that way. The thought startles you, and you realize something truly terrible; you're still in love with him. 

A/N: It's been a hot sec! I'm hoping to get back into posting more regularly, like 1 or 2 fics a week! I tagged people who requested to be tagged way back when I posted the first chapter, feel free to lmk if you no longer wish to be tagged in future parts!

@mirandasidefics @makershoe @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1

[altacctforastarion]

Okay hear me out Astarion nsfw/sfw with a Tav who's technically royalty but gave the crown to their brother and they never told anyone they were royalty until it get revealed by a guard greeting tav like "my majesty" how would Astarion react

Fun fact: I write while I’m at work (we’re in the slow season) and I wrote a full thing for this the day you requested it and then got busy for a few minutes and got back on to hit post and the app closed while I was off. So I’ve learned to save my drafts frequently, and I’ve died a little inside.

Anyways! I did this in kinda headcanon format, just couldn’t find a way to make a full fic with it.

Warnings: Astarion being angry but he chills out, nsfw mentions at the end, 18+ only minors do not interact.

I hope you like it!

-you feel dread as you near the bridge to Baldurs gate. You’d meant to tell your companions about your past, about how you were once royalty, but as time went on you just couldn’t bring yourself to. It was so nice to be treated like everyone else. If they were angry with you they didn’t bite their tongues, telling you how they felt and expecting you to make up for it.

-You’d come close, when Astarion had started telling you about his own past, occasionally asking about yours, but the thought of the person you cared for seeing you as above them was too much, so you didn’t confess then, choosing to put it off. And now you’re approaching the guards who you know by name and you know this won’t go well.

-They don’t see you at first and they stop your group, Astarion starts arguing with them and one of the guards looks at your group, spotting you, and drops into a deep bow, “Your majesty! We apologize, please carry on. You and your friends are always welcome in our great city, would you like a personal escort?”

-Your group stares at you as you thank the guards and tell them you’ll be fine without an escort. You cross the bridge, and Astarion grabs your arm and spins you around as soon as you’re out of earshot of the guards who would no doubt kill him for how he’s about to talk to you.

-“When exactly were you going to tell us about your status, your majesty?” He’s angry, hissing out the words in a hushed whisper, your other companions aren’t so much angry as they are disappointed, besides Lae’zel who couldn’t care less about your status. “How could we know how far beneath you we are if you never see fit to tell us? Could we not be trusted with such important, regal information?” You can hear the hurt of betrayal, and the slight anxiety, no doubt wondering if he’ll be struck down for how he’s speaking now, but also because he took the blood of a royal.

-You apologize and explain that you’re not royalty now, that you’d long since given up your crown. You’re questioned as to why you didn’t tell them, why you hid so much of yourself from the people you trust with your life, and as you confess the others move onto questions about being royalty, the fun you must have had, but not Astarion. He’s still gripping your arm and it almost hurts, like he’s worried you’ll run away if he doesn’t keep you there.

-“Why didn’t you tell me? I told you so much of myself and you gave me almost nothing from your past. Were you lying when you told me things about yourself?”

-“I never lied to you, I just didn’t want to be treated like I was better than everyone else. The can do no wrong royal bullshit wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to manage family politics or organize fancy galas, I wanted to be a person. And since the nautiloid, that’s all I’ve been, just a person who can be wrong and can hear all about it when I make mistakes. You would never hold my arm this tight or talk to me this way if I was who I was supposed to be. This is the life I want, and I’m sorry I was afraid to lose it.”

-He starts to understand then, he’s lied plenty to get the life he wants, to be the person he really is, and as the anger leaves him, he loosens his grip a little, but he doesn’t let go, giving you what you said you’d wanted.

-He starts to ask questions about the royals you knew, asking for dirty secrets and gossip, asking if your group could go stay in your castle and scoffing when you told him the castle belongs to your brother, and while he’d welcome you back you’d rather not go back.

-That night, your group takes up residence in Elfsong, and everyone makes jokes about a royal sleeping above a tavern.

-When you’re in your bed with Astarion he tells you he’s never fucked a royal before, and asks for the opportunity, shushing you when you tell him that you’re no longer royalty and he has fucked you multiple times anyways.

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy VII

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) ->chapter map

VII.

-Later that night you’re outside Matt’s apartment with that familiar feeling that you’re doing something that maybe you shouldn’t be doing. You were afraid he’d take it the wrong way, if you invited him over to your place. But now you’re not sure this is any better. 

Just chill out, you scold yourself. He’s a sweet boy. He’s going to finish his drawing, and then you’re going to leave. No funny business.

Right. 

Your ovaries have other ideas, but you’re usually successful at thwarting their evil schemes, if with anything your pure talent for saying the wrong thing.   

You can hear the music coming through the door before you even knock. There are several voices on the other side. Loud, excited, adolescently boyish. It doesn’t really help the unease inside you, but before you can change your mind the door is jerked open, answered by a skinny guy in faded black denim. “What’s up?” You think you recognize him from the band.

“Hi…is Matt here?” 

His eyes light up, a smirk pulling his narrow features. “Ohhhhh, you’re the chick from his drawing class!” Then he bellows loud enough for the whole building to hear, “Matt!! Your stripper’s here!” 

Mortified, you are on the verge of turning on your heel and leaving when suddenly Matt appears in the door, maybe as flustered as you are. “Jesus, Layne, shut up.” He pushes his friend away, filling the doorway with his broad-shouldered form. He’s in a white t-shirt, and blue jeans, and if you’re being honest…he looks good enough to eat. “Hey. Sorry about him, he’s an asshole.” 

He runs his fingers through his soft hair nervously, and you feel the sparks as the wires cross in your brain. 

“It’s ok…” It’s not, but what the fuck else can you say?

You follow him into the apartment, which smells of stale beer and weed and unwashed man-children. His friends are watching tv, a cold pizza open on the coffee table. Everything is filthy, and a part of you wants to turn and go again. 

“Aw, don’t hog the girl,” says another one of Matt’s friends. He is big, the mismatched thrift-store chair he sits in clearly on the verge of breaking under his burly weight. When he looks at you you have the unnerving feeling that he is looking through you. “Come hang out.”

“Can’t, Samson. Got a project.”

“Work on it out here!” 

“Yeah, Matt, it’s just art.” They all look at you wolfishly, and it is so completely the opposite vibe of the drawing studio that a part of you wants to bolt like a rabbit. 

“Fuck off, assholes,” Matt says with no real feeling, taking your hand to pull you towards his room. You let him, because you’re not sure what else to do. You feel their gazes between your shoulder blades, a creeping feeling prickling uncomfortably all over your skin. 

“Sorry about them,” he says once he has you inside his tiny bedroom. You can’t help but notice he flips the lock. His friends continue to jeer from the other side, going so far as to throw something heavy at the door. He rifles around to set up his drawing stuff. When he realizes you haven’t moved he asks, “Shit, are you ok?”

The answer is not really, but you shrug it off. “Fine. Where should I sit?” 

His room is messy, but not dirty like the common living area. He moves a pile of clothes and makes a place for you, setting up a desk lamp to mimic the lighting from the drawing studio. “This should do. It’s really cool of you to help me out.” 

“Not a big deal.” You went through the grind before. You know how important it is to do well this first year. The 100 classes are kind of boring, but they really do set the foundation for everything else. 

There’s only one thing left to do. 

You’re not sure why it didn’t occur to you until just now, how charged it would be, to undress while alone in a bedroom with this handsome young man. It doesn’t help that he’s biting his full lower lip, looking at you like a drowning man. 

“Alright. You have to close your eyes.” 

He laughs, those dark orbs sparkling. “What?” 

“Go on. I’ll tell you when you can open them.” 

He doesn’t fight you, doing as you ask and turning his back besides. The difference between him and his friends is such a yawning chasm, you wonder what the hell he’s doing with guys like that. You suppose that sometimes proximity makes strange bedfellows. 

You take off your clothes and arrange yourself. “Ok, you can look.” 

He turns, gazing at you with a softness that tugs all your heartstrings and ties them in knots besides. He glances down at his drawing, then back at you. “Can you move your hand to the left just a hair?” 

You do, and with plenty of tension in the air but no further fuss, he gets to work.

-You stay for three more hours, and the result was worth it. Matt’s drawing takes your breath away, and despite your joke earlier, it’s not vanity. It’s his marks on the paper, the curves and lines and highlights and shadows. It’s beautiful, and you’re very proud of him. 

“I can’t fathom John won’t like this,” you say. Matt makes a face at just hearing his Professor’s name. 

“We’ll see. That dude has it out for me.”

“I think…he just sees you have potential.”

Matt gives you a look, tilting his head so that beautiful hair falls down in a wave. “Are you kidding me?”

“Well…”

“I'm not sure you've noticed this, but I think he likes you.”

You roll your eyes. Maybe that used to be true, but you're pretty sure you ruined it. He was downright distant last class, so cordial it hurt. “I think you're imagining things.”

“Sure, y/n.” Clearly, he's not convinced. “You…want to hang out?” He shoots you a puppy dog look from behind his hair that is hard to resist. 

You smile regretfully. “I have to get going.” You're not just a spoilsport; you really are exhausted.

“Ok, I'll walk you out.” It's settled down outside, and it feels like it's safe to leave. Yet as the two of you are walking past the kitchen the one called Samson blocks your way. 

“Where ya goin? It's early. You should stay.” He fills the whole hallway, impossibly large and seemingly impassable. Every hair raises on your body.

“Sorry…I can't,” you manage to get out, every cell in your body feeling threatened. Of course, your pepper spray is buried deep in the bottom of your purse where you could never get to it in time. 

“Aww. You're no fun.” He reaches up to touch your hair, and you have this sudden sickly feeling like you might die if he lays a hand on you. 

“Dude, chill out.” Matt comes to the rescue, pushing his friend aside like one might an overly friendly Saint Bernard. But you know that even if big dogs seem dumb…they have teeth, and sometimes, they don’t know their own strength. 

“Sorry about him,” he says again as you step outside. Again, you can't help but think that he is waaay too nice to be hanging with these creeps.

“Matt…you're a really nice guy,” you say as you get to your car, wanting to ask him what the deal is with his unsavory company but not sure how. 

“Yeah?” He lights up at hearing this, inching in a little closer with that sideways smile. “Then how come you won't let me kiss you?”

Why do you feel more embarrassed now than fifteen minutes ago when you were sitting in his room with no clothes on? 

“I didn't say I wouldn't…”

This emboldens him enough to step the rest of the way into you, touching his pillow-soft lips to yours gently. He lights up your world, and when you don't pull away his big hands find your waist, his fingertips digging into your skin as he moans against your mouth. 

“You sure you gotta go?” he asks sheepishly, his forehead pressed to yours. His hair is every bit as soft as it looks, you find out, as it curtains your face.

You manage a shaky, “Yeah.” 

Only because you can't stand his roommates. You've decided you will never set foot in that apartment with them there again.

“Bummer.” 

The understatement of the century. You laugh, at your own luck as much as him, smoothing your hands over his muscled chest before patting his cheek lightly. Good lord, what a specimen. “Goodnight, Matt.”

“See you, y/n.”

You drive off, sad to be leaving him. Something about that boy makes you want to wrap him up in your arms, and fight anyone who so much as gives him a sideways look.

That is something to be wary of too, you suppose.

You have no idea that you were being watched by someone from the shadows, snogging your student under the yellow glow of the street light.

----

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime Part 5

We are now in the latter half of this story and hooboy is going to worse before it gets better. Again this story is done, I'm just putting out the remaining chapters I have.

We have the Forrest talk, The Wheeler House, and Wayne blows a gasket. Poor, poor Wayne.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

“Dustin looks up to you so much, Steve,” Eddie murmured. “It’s all he talks about. Hell, it’s all they all talk about. If Jeff and them didn’t know you before they joined Hellfire they would have gotten psychic damage with how much they talk about Steve the hero.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, well. I wish he’d tell me more to my face instead of all the bullshit I do get from him. Like he had a bag filled with flashlights and I asked him where he got them, do you want to know what he said?”

Eddie let out a pained sigh. “Something snarky and rude?”

“Right in one,” Steve groused. “He said that I was an adult and shouldn’t have to be told everything. Like no one else gets that amount of disrespect. Including you, who is older than I am.”

“That little shit head,” Eddie said with another sigh. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Thanks.”

They walked in silence for a moment or two before Eddie spoke up.

“I’m learning this week that I’m coward,” he murmured, poking and twisting his hands nervously. “I didn’t think I was until Chrissy. But when I saw her raise up to my ceiling...I–I just ran. I could have stayed. I could have tried to help. I knew that this place was and I couldn’t help her.”

Steve shook his head. “Do you remember the first comic I ever drew for you?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and his hangdog expression cleared. “The gun, the boy running to his car before dashing back into save the day, the fear...”

“Yeah, Eds,” he murmured. “It was always about that. Running in is okay as long you know that when the time comes you’ll do the right thing in the right time.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “God, Stevie,” he murmured. “I hesitated. To jump in after you. You had just been dragged in and Nancy went in right after you, Robin merely a second later. But I paced that god damn boat before following suit.”

“So what?” Steve said, reaching up to guide Eddie’s face to meet his head on. “I bet I can tell you what your thought process was.”

“Steve...” Eddie whined. “Jumping in after immediately was the biggest sign of true love I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t want her, I want you. Because I know you hesitated to jump because you weren’t sure if you should go back to sure and let everyone know what happened or to jump in and protect me and the girls. You chose to protect us, Eddie. Don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? I love you.”

Eddie closed his eyes and let go of all the jealousy and envy he had over Nancy and what they had before Eddie came along. He knew Steve was gay. He knew that Steve had chosen him and had kept choosing him, time after time. But when he saw the way the two of them teased each other, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, causing him to throw his vest at Steve.

He nodded and then accepted the kiss that Steve gave him. They might be in a hellscape running for their lives with an evil wizard and all his minions chasing after them but they had each in other in this.

And they would make it. Together.

~

“They’re gone!” Nancy cried. “They aren’t here. They should be in this shoe box, but all that’s in here are the shoes that I ruined my junior year. I broke the heel on the one and had to toss them both out.”

“What do you mean they’re gone?!” Eddie bit out through clenched teeth. “How could they be gone?”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” she cried gesturing wildly. “They should be here!”

Steve wandered over to the wall and looked up at the poster. “Nance, when did you exchange your Blondie calendar for the poster?”

“Steve is that really important right now?” she snapped and then she turned around to see said calendar on the wall. “Oh!”

“What does that mean?” Robin asked, trying to break the tension that suddenly ramped up in the room.

“I think the Upside Down is stuck in 1983,” Nancy murmured. “But since the revolver isn’t here either, I’d have to guess November 6th.”

Robin and Eddie shared a confused glance.

“I don’t know what that means,” Eddie admitted, sticking his hands in his back pockets.

“That’s the day Will disappeared,” Steve said absently. He poked the calendar a couple of times. “What is so important about that day...?”

Nancy just shook her head. “What are we going to do now?”

“Well,” Steve said with the shrug of his shoulders, “we can always make my weapon again.”

Nancy raised her eyebrows and then grinned. “That will certainly help, yes.”

~

They thundered down the stairs, but Steve stopped. Nancy and Robin kept going, but Eddie slowed down and looked back.

“What’s up, Stevie?” he asked as he watched his boyfriend strain as if he was hearing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Hey, guys wait up!”

Nancy and Robin turned around to see Steve inch down the stairs, his head cocked upwards.

“Can’t you hear it?” Steve asked. “It’s Dustin, I’m sure of it! And I think...Max.” He shook his head. “I can’t quite make it... out...”

Before Nancy could scoff again, Robin giggled.

“I can hear them too!” she said excitedly jumping up and down and clapping.

It didn’t take them long to figure out how to communicate with them and they found out that they had picked up Erica and she had been read in.

“How many times do I have to be right before you believe me?” Dustin barked angrily.

“Jesus Christ. This kid's gotta get his ego in check,” Steve said twisting his lip and shaking his head ruefully.

Eddie leaned over to look past Nancy and Robin, “It’s his tone, right?”

After everything was decided that they all meet up at Eddie’s trailer, Eddie grimaced. “How are we going to get there? It’s like seven miles from here.”

Nancy looked around for a moment. “Well if it is the 6th, then all the kids would have had their bikes here. I mean it might be a little tight for the boys, but it’s better then walking.”

~

Once they were back top side, Wayne bullied the four older teens into showers and changed before sitting Steve down to do a proper stitch job while everyone caught up with what everyone had learned, but especially Nancy’s vision.

“We have to attack now,” Nancy said. “We don’t know who he’ll pick next and Max shouldn’t have to live on borrowed time.”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, nodding along with her. “We know that while Vecna is in the void his body is vulnerable to attacks. If we can lure him into attacking someone to open the fourth gate then we can attack his body in the Upside Down?”

“Oh is that all?” Eddie sneered, rising to his feet.

“Yep!” Dustin said cheerfully and Eddie slowly said back down in disappointment.

Wayne crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat back, allowing Steve to stand up. His back arms had been cleaned and properly bandaged, his sides had been sterilized, stitched, and re-bandaged, his neck cleaned and bandaged to keep further dirt out of the wound.

“Yeah?” Wayne said, “And who’s gonna be fighting this evil wizard of yours? Steve? The fella I just spent the last twenty minutes putting back together? Or the two ladies who are still in high school? Or any of the other children here, present?”

Dustin opened his mouth, but no words came out and everyone shifted around nervously as for the first time an adult put their foot down and said they shouldn’t be doing this.

Max came back into the front part of the trailer. “I tried reaching the Byers again and it’s a busy signal again.”

“Which means we have even less time then we thought,” Nancy insisted, putting her hands on her hips. “We need to take him out now before our friends get hurt, especially since we don’t know who his next victim will be.”

Wayne licked the bottom of his lips slowly. “Well you ain’t doing it with the eight of ya.”

Everyone looked around in confusion as it seemed like they were all counting their numbers.

“Before we get further,” Steve said quietly. “We do know who his next is. I read the files from Ms. Kelly’s office. I know how they all started. For Fred, Patrick, Chrissy.” He paused and then looked up. “Max.”

She froze in place and fought the urge to look over at the person she knew he was talking about, trying to look everywhere else.

“Yeah, Stevie?” Eddie asked gently. “Who’s next on the evil wizard’s hit list?”

Steve sat down hard between Lucas and Eddie and propped his chin on his knuckles. “It always starts off with visions. Visions of things he thinks you’re guilty of. I’m guessing in Max’s case it was Billy, like it was Nancy’s siblings in hers.”

Nancy wrapped her arms around her waist and looked down at the ground, rocking back on one heel of her shoes.

Both Wayne and Eddie tilted their head in the same direction at the same time as they regarded Nancy.

“Something tells me,” Eddie said wetting his lips, “that she knew that. Didn’t ya Nance?”

Max looked back and forth between Eddie and Nancy. “I was about to suggest using myself as bait, because if we can distract him long enough for a strike team to destroy his physical form, we can get rid of the Upside Down for good. But you’re telling me that she knew she was the next victim and was still going to let me be the sacrificial lamb?”

Steve shook his head. “Good ole Nancy Wheeler, only looking out for herself. We could wait a week and have Nancy be bait. Hell, we all have Walkmans. We get enough batteries and enough tapes I’m sure Max could last that long. But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to go through the visions and guilt. Because she knows deep down Vecna, Henry, whoever is right. It is her fault Barb died.”

“Uh...” Lucas said into the resulting silence. “So are we going with Max or Nancy because that is really something we should decide before we get any further...”

“I’m all for taking the bastard out now,” Wayne said with a shrug. “But not with just us. We need more people.”

Steve turned to Eddie. “Are the boys still in town?”

Eddie got up and started waving his hands. “No. Nope. Absolutely not, Steve. We aren’t dragging them into this. Ignorance is hella bliss in this case. You know it is!”

Dustin shook his head ruefully. “If you’re suggesting who I think you’re suggesting, it couldn’t hurt. I mean Jason is amassing a lynch mob and we need all the help we can get.”

“I’d want to know,” Lucas said softly. “After what Jason and his goons did to Gareth. If I were them, I’d want to know.”

Eddie turned to glare at him. “And what did they do to Gareth?”

Lucas explained why he was no longer with the basketball guys to Nancy, Robin, Wayne, and Eddie.

“God damn it!” Wayne cussed. “That’s how they found out about the lake house? And Chief Powell just let them go? I’m going fucking sue this whole incompetent asshole county!”

“Well,” Nancy said, “I’m against it. We need a small strike team not a god damned army.”

“The hell you don’t,” Wayne snapped. “I saw the beast that damn near took out the mall and if it’s Henry Creel like we think it is, then we’re going to need everyone we can. And since we’re spread pretty thin on the ground right now with the Cali crew in the wind and Hopper dead... we need people. I would rather it not be children, but I’m out of options right now.”

Eddie pushed his fingers into his eye in frustration. “Fine.”

They all turned to him in shock.

“Fine,” he bit out again, flopping back onto the sofa. “I’ll round up the Hellfire crew. Shit, I’ll even see if Marty and Janice are in town for the week, because if we’re dragging people into this shit, we’re getting the whole band back together.”

“We’re going to need weapons and supplies,” Steve said with a sigh. He didn’t like the plan, but it was all they had. “And way to get all us of there.”

“The weapons are easy,” Wayne said with a huff, “War Zone. They’ll have everything you need. For both.”

“If we’re trying to avoid people from town,” Erica said, rolling her eyes, “maybe we should avoid a store called War Zone.”

Wayne snorted, “And you got somewhere else we can load up on supplies, little miss?”

Erica opened her mouth but no words came out.

“That’s what I thought,” Wayne said smugly.

“That takes care of one,” Robin said with a nod. “But what about transportation?”

“I have something,” Eddie said with a grin.

Steve came up to stand next to him. “You got some hidden car we don’t know about?”

“It’s not exactly a car,” Eddie said smirking at Wayne, “and it’s not exactly mine, but it’ll do.”

“Boy...” Wayne said warningly.

Eddie willfully ignored him. “Hey, Max you got a bandanna or mask I can use?”

~

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

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7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

9- @steddieislife @chaotic-waffle @strangerfolks