#this took SO LONG to write but it was worth it :D

[a-and-b-snz]

sci-fi snz: an alien donation

An alien, humanoid and graceful, is sitting in a waiting room with its hands balled anxiously in its lap. Its head jerks up when it hears its name being called.

"Yes?" It twists in its seat.

"We're ready for you. Would you like to follow me?"

A nurse with warm eyes and a kindly smile leads the alien into their office. The room is small and brightly lit. In the center is a blue padded chair, not unlike one that might be found at a dentist's, with the exception of the metal handcuffs on each armrest.

The nurse closes the door behind them, and then begins clicking through notes on their computer. The alien hovers awkwardly.

"Um," it mumbles, "should I sit?"

"Please," the nurse says. They look up from their screen as the alien glides across the room and settles on the chair. "I see this is your first time making a donation."

"Yes," the alien says. It has a low, soft voice, almost like a melodical whisper. "Are all my documents in order? There were an awful lot of things I needed to sign, I hope I didn't miss anything."

"You've done more than enough," the nurse reassures it. They observe how it's wringing its hands, its long, slender fingers laced together. "It's completely normal to feel nervous, the first time around," the nurse says gently. "There really isn't anything to worry about."

"Oh." It forces a smile. "No, I'm- I'm alright."

The nurse nods, and begins gathering their tools. "Would you like me to explain the procedure before we begin?"

"Yes please." It exhales in relief at the offer. "I've read some articles, but I'm still not really sure I get it? It all seems very technical."

"Oh, the journals like to complicate it with all sorts of jargon," the nurse rolls their eyes. "The reality is quite straightforward. The crux of it is, your species produces a special kind of liquid from its nose. Whilst it may appear similar to human mucus, it has incredible healing properties. When applied to human skin, it's able to close wounds near instantly, and reduces any risk of infection to near zero."

"Oh!" The alien's eyebrows shoot up. "Why's that?"

"We're still not quite sure," the nurse admits. "It's a very experimental field of medicine, at the moment. Which is why donations by people such as yourself are all the more appreciated!" They beam, and the alien feels warmth begin to heat up their cheeks.

"So, my donation could potentially save someone's life?" it asks.

"Possibly!" The nurse says. "Or at the very least, it will contribute to research which will lead to many lives being saved."

"Gosh," it says. "Well, I'm glad I signed up."

"I am too," the nurse laughs. The alien giggles with them nervously. Are all nurses this attractive, or did it just get lucky?

"Now, the producedure itself is quite straight-forward," the nurse says. "I'm going to take this--" they hold up a long, thin instrument, which is covered in fine white hairs "--and insert it into one of your nostrils. It'll trigger a few expellations, and I'll collect the liquid in this." They hold up a small cup. "Then, I'll do the same on the other side, and you'll be all finished! We try to keep it short, for fist time donors."

"Sorry, um- Expellation?"

"Ah." The nurse's eyes glimmer. "Have you ever sneezed before?"

"No," the alien says slowly. It's an extremely rare occurance in their species - most go their whole lives without a single sneeze. Eager to please their nurse, however, they add, "But, I've witnessed it in my human friends before."

"So you're familiar with the concept," the nurse says. "That's good."

The alien feels a little flicker of warmth in their stomach at the praise.

"Now, this may be a rather foreign feeling at first," they warn as they advance.

It stiffens. "Will it hurt?"

"Not at all," the nurse says. "It'll just tickle, that's all. And if at any point it gets too much, you can ask to take a break, or stop completely."

"I'll be fine," the alien says, with more confidence than they actually feel.

"I'm sure you will," they say, placing a reassuring hand on its arm. "You may still have a gut instinct to resist the need to sneeze. My best advice is, let it happen. It won't hurt you. In fact, some donors have even reported the sensation of release to be quite pleasurable!"

"Okay," the alien says warily, settling back and letting out a long, slow breath.

"I'm just going to lock your arms into place here," the nurse says, carefully taking one of its hands. "You'll likely experience a reflextive urge to touch or rub your nose, but if you do so, that could inhibit my ability to collect the liquid." They snap a metal band over the alien's right wrist. "In case of emergancy, you can free yourself quite easily, by pressing this button right here." They guide the alien's slender index finger to a button embedded on the side of the arm wrest. "Is that alright?" It nods, and so the nurse locks its left writs into place as well. "Okay, lets begin."

The alien goes cross-eyed as it watches the nurse bring the instrument up to its nose. It gasps softly as it enters its right nostril.

"How's that?" the nurse asks.

"F-fine," the alien stutters. "Just feels odd."

"I'm sure it does," the nurse croons sympathetically. "Just a little farther, and then I'll switch it on."

The alien blinks rapidly as it feels the fine hairs brush against the back of their nasal passage. "What do you mean, turn it-"

Click! ...Bzzzzz

The alien draws in a sharp breath as the instrument begins to vibrate inside of them. All those little hairs, which up until this point had been little more than a strange sensation, are mercilessly teasing this alien's poor, poor nose. Its arms jerk, and slam against the restrains. "Ah, s-sorry," it pants, forcing its hands to relax again.

"Don't worry about it. That's what the cuffs a for!" The nurse begins working the instrument ever so slightly forwards and backwards. The alien lets out a low whine. "Feeling okay?"

"Tickly," they moan. "It really tih- ih! Oh!" They whimper in surprise as their voice snags. "What's hah... What's happenihh- happening?"

"You're just starting to hitch," the nurse says calmly. "That's a good sign."

"It ih'hihh... it- it is?"

"It means your body's getting ready to sneeze."

It's such a strange feeling, panting wildly like this. The alien is used to being in total control of their breath, and wasn't expecting to lose that control so quickly. It's a shock, each and every time their lungs snatch for more air without permission. It tries to explain to the nurse how unusual it feels, but it finds it can no longer form a single word, let alone a coherent sentence. "Ah... ah... hah... aheh! Heh! Hehhh..."

"That's it," the nurse soothes. "You're doing so well."

The alien's eyelids pinch shut, another alarming action beyond their control. "Hah! Ah! HAHH!"

"Nearly there." The nurse must feel it's frantic trembling beneath their touch, because they begin to raise their cup. "Let it all out."

"Heh..." It's head tips back. "Ha... heh! Hih! Heh'HEH- HAH'TISHYIEWW!" It's head snaps forward as the nurse slides their instrument out just in time. It teeters on the edge, hitching wildly as it feels the rim of the cup rest against the underside of it's nose. "Ah-hah-HAHH! Ah'TECHOO! Eh- Eh'TESHyoo! Ah... heh... unghhh..." It slumps back into its seat, panting hard.

"Well done!" the nurse says enthusastically.

The alien grins at them weakly, their eyelids cracking half-open.

The nurse presses their thumb and forefinger on either side of it's nose. "Blow for me."

It obeys, and feels liquid dripping out of it's nose as the nurse pinches and releases multiple times.

"Wow," they say, "that's quite the production!"

The alien can't help but feel proud, in a strange sort of way. "Are you going to do the other side now?" it asks.

"Are you ready for it?"

It nods. The nurse switches out their instrument for a fresh one, and though it knows what to expect, it's no less strange of a feeling. "Ohhh," it moans as the device starts to vibrate. Its nose must still be running, as the cup is brought back to their upper lip once more. "Ah- ahh... oh, it's c-coming," it stutters.

"You're a natural at this," the nurse says. "You know, with some patients, it'll take them ten minutes before they even start to hitch! But you gave me a lightning-fast little fit like it was no big deal, and now you're already gearing up for more." They put their hand on its arm affectionately. "My star student."

It flushs with pride, eyes beginning to water. "I cah- can feel it bihh... building!" they huff out eagerly.

"Good job," the nurse croons. "Is it gonna be big?"

"Mm-hm!" The alien tries to nod, but in doing so, it winds up taking the instrument the tiniest bit further inside. The result is instantaneous: a half-formed, itchy "Itsh!"

Somehow, the sweet little sneeze only makes its nose itch worse, and it quickly begin gasping into the next one. "Itch! -Tch! -Tish! Tichu! It'shuh! Ah... hah... hih!"

It draws one giant breath as the instrument slides out. "IHH! IH'CHOO! IP'TISHIIEH! IHT'ESHU! Ohhh.... gosh." It moans at the final release. Wow, that did feel kind of good, actually.

"Blow," the nurse instructs, as they pinch its nose once again. The liquid shoots out of them like a rocket.

It coughs once the nurse lets go, and accepts the tissue it's handed, cautiously dabbing at their buzzing nose.

"All done!" the nurse declairs, holding up the cup. "Thank you so much for your donation. You're free to go."

Still panting, the alien gets shakily to its feet. It hesitates by the door, then turns to face the nurse. "Uh... when can I book another appointment?"

The nurse beams at it. "When are you next free?"

[herstoriies]

The new NPCs page is finally FINALLY complete! :D It has everything from Priscilla's family, friends, exes, & household of Staunton!

>> Check it out !

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Hope you're okay :D

First your writeing it's so good and i love it, and this is mu first time asking you for a request :)

So idk if you aleady did this, i don't remember reading it but i wanted to know how do you think Damian would react when he finally meet his brothers partner?

When JASON borough you home, Damian wasn’t certain whether he was seeing the same perpetually annoying Jason, especially when he watched him look at you as though you were the only one in the room.

It was something completely new, for as long as Damian could remember Jason was a man who held great resentment and anger within himself, which often resulted in making him prone to rash decisions and act out on his self destructive tendencies. So seeing him smile with you, laugh with you, joke with you was a side to him that only Dick had told him stories about.

Damian wasn’t fond of trusting anyone outside of his own family, but he’d be stupid to not see that you were an extremely positive influence on Jason, and soon found himself hoping that his brother wouldn’t be the one to fuck this up via self sabotage. However he didn’t have to fear that being the case when he saw the way Jason seemed more at peace by your side then he ever did in his entire life, his shoulders were no longer hunched and the furrow in his brow was less prominent, his jaw was no longer clenched and is more relaxed.

It was as though Damian was looking at a completely different person and he couldn’t help but find himself being thankful to you for having such unwavering patience with Jason and secretly hopes that you continue to do so for the nearby future. Damian could clearly see that you helped Jason through the moments that he wouldn’t dare bring up to his own family and while that hurt, he’s glad that Jason wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore and was able to carve out a future with you.

‘They’re good for you Todd.’ Damian said once you were out of earshot.

‘I’ve known that since the moment they didn’t shy away from my scars and brokenness.’ Jason told his little brother.

‘You’re not broken.’ Damian corrected as he saw the look upon Jason’s face as he looks at you play with Titus, ‘ you’re healing.’

When TIM brought you home Damian didn’t know that he even got a partner, he didn’t bother to think that Tim was capable of engaging in a romantic relationship with anyone, given how co-dependant he was with that stupid laptop of his.

Damian understood that Tim and himself didn’t have the best of relationship, it wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t exactly ideal for two people who were meant to be considered ‘siblings’, but Damian didn’t want him to be mistreated by anyone regardless.

So when he began to take notice how you took care of Tim without it being overbearing or controlling in the slightest, you made sure he ate properly and took adequate rest whilst letting him uphold his responsibilities. You trusted Tim to take care of himself when you knew you were out of your element and he trusted you to keep ahold of his heart no matter what, and Damian could see that in the way you would boast about Tim as though he was gods gift to humanity; Which to you he very much was with a side order of sarcastic wit.

You reminded Tim that he was more then what he could give to other people, a lesson that Damian truly believed Tim needed to learn and if he learnt that through your relationship then that was good enough for him.

‘I didn’t know you were capable of being in a relationship.’ Damian told Tim and he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Thanks Damian, much appreciated.’ He said sarcastically.

‘You didn’t let me finished Drake,’ Damian told him before continuing, ‘however I’m…glad that you found someone who makes you sees your worth.’

Tim smiled softly. ‘Thanks Damian.’

When DICK brought you home, Damian was quick to follow you throughout your visit to the manor in hopes of getting a good gauge of your character, he valued Dick as his brother and wasn’t just about let him date anyone he decided to pick up from the side of the street one day on a whim.

Damian wasn’t exactly trusting towards you at first -despite the many stories Dick had told him about you- genuinely thinking that by next week Dick would’ve dumped you and bring home another one of his short lived romances, and seeing as how commitment wasn’t exactly a thing Dick was well known for. So he wasn’t expecting much to come out of your visit but when he saw just how happy Dick was with you, holding your hand, practically glued to your side and just acting like an human version of a puppy dog whenever he was with you it was almost sickening; well it was but you get the point.

Not once did Damian see Dick’s adoring eyes wander from you, he was completely entranced by anything and everything you said as though it was gospel. You both were the epitome of lovesick and Damian didn’t know whether he should be happy that it seems as though Dick found someone whom he could be genuine with and no be judged, or be grossed out by how much pda you do.

It was a tossup between the two but Damian found himself gaining some form of respect for you throughout the day and soon would in your corner for most of your playful disagreements.

‘Oh come on Damian, you’ve barely known my partner for a day and now all of a sudden your pally pally?’ Dick whines as Damian stood by your side.

‘So? It’s obvious they’re the one in charge of this relationship.’ Damian replied and you could’ve busted out laughing at Dick’s expression afterwards.

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Cat and Mouse

(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)

Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)

Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys… Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk there’s like a second where they’re both doubting themselves but it’s solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk he’s just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell y’all they’re pervs, they’re gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: Listen… idk what came over me with this one… a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics I’ve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but I’m a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasn’t as innocent as Eddie thought. That’s it, that’s all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. 😌 (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddie’s shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist

You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncle’s comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.

You hadn’t known him long but it didn’t take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when you’d cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You weren’t, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.

You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didn’t quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.

So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.

Each time they would be gone, and you weren’t sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.

•

The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.

He couldn’t stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldn’t help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.

He learned that you weren’t only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.

You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didn’t realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. You’d look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.

But once you started hanging out with him outside of work that’s when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldn’t resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.

Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldn’t need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what he’s been finding himself doing more and more often when he’s in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.

Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.

You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.

This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.

The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.

He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t notice it missing.

You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldn’t help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.

•

About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still weren’t sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddie’s room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old man’s wife picked it out for him.

It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like… you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.

That night you did something you would’ve felt ashamed of if you weren’t positive Eddie’s done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.

You wrapped Eddie’s shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.

•

Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasn’t there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadn’t been there before, he definitely would have noticed.

Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didn’t?

Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldn’t come off as suspicious.

You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.

When you open your bedroom door he’s sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.

“There you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.” You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.

“Why thank you madam” Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.

You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.

You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.

Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.

“Fuck” He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didn’t hear him.

“Hmm? Eddie, you okay?”

You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didn’t know how sexy you were, like you didn’t know you drive him fucking crazy.

“Uh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good ol’ kraft hits the spot.” He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.

“Right? It’ll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds I’ve eaten, nothing beats it.”

You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like he’s got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.

“I - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him I’d help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasn’t done it! So I’m - I gotta go!” He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didn’t turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.

“Thank you for lunch! I’ll leave the bowl in the sink! I’ll um - I’ll see you later!”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.

You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you… Or maybe… maybe he ran home to jerk off… maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. That’s what you hoped at least.

You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least that’s what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.

•

You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didn’t even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldn’t taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.

He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.

“FUCK!” He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.

After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.

•

You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.

You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didn’t make sense, why would he take all those things if he didn’t like you? If he didn’t want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.

So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddie’s shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.

You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now you’re almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.

The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.

The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.

The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.

The next one is the one you’re most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. It’s an upshot of you from the neck down, you’re straddling the pillow that’s wrapped in Eddie’s shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.

The last photo is you in the same position but it’s from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.

Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like they’re a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.

Eddie,

if you wanted my panties… all you had to do was ask. You’ve taken all my cutest ones now. But that’s okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.

Xoxo - Your angel.

You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Gareth’s for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.

•

Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.

He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.

You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.

“Hi Eddie, this is for you. But don’t open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?”

You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the night not knowing.

“A gift? For me? Angel, you shouldn’t have.” He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.

“I didn’t spend any money on it or anything… but I’m not giving it to you unless you promise you won’t open it until you get home later.”

“Yeah, I promise.” He smiled at you reassuringly.

You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.

“EDDIE!! Don’t do that, you’re never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!”

You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally would’ve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.

•

Movie night wasn’t awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadn’t been ignoring you all week and you couldn’t tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.

That little box in the back of Eddie’s van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldn’t stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.

Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.

When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.

Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didn’t ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.

•

Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.

He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.

He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.

Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.

It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.

He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.

His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.

You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and you’re straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and he’s seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.

It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didn’t just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, there’s little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.

His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.

He didn’t even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.

•

You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.

You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.

“You knew?” He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.

“Yeah…” You bit your lip as you nodded. “I knew the whole time… from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.

You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.

“Why not?” He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.

“It was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didn’t it was almost hotter to me for some reason… I’m sorry if that’s weird.” You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didn’t say anything?

“I stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and you’re asking me if it’s weird that you left them out for me?” He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.

“I could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photos…” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Did you really…”

“Fuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.” You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.

“Jesus fucking christ… that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, shit.”

He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.

You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.

“God Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.” You moaned against his lips.

“Angel, I’ll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts you’ve been leaving me without me even knowing… you really thought I knew?” He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.

“For a while there, yeah… That’s why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didn’t know. I thought for a second I might’ve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway… looks like it paid off.” You looked him up and down, biting your lip.

“Fuck yeah it did.” He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what could’ve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.

You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.

You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that he’s never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.

“Tell me about your fantasies Eddie… tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.” Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.

“Fuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.”

“Mmm… that’s what I hoped you’d do, tell me more…” You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.

“I can’t believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out you’d hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.” He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.

“Well, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.” You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.

“God damn.” He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. “When I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.”

“Mmm Eddie, that’s so hot.” You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.

“Then once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.”

His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.

“That day when I found that picture of your tits… and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.”

You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“If you’re depraved… so am I.” You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks he’s in love with you at this point because you’re not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. You’re standing there like every fantasy he’s ever had about you come true, but better.

“Angel, those pictures have nothing on the real thing” He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. “I need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.”

“Mmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.”

You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesn’t think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.

He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.

“Ho- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.” Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.

“I thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.”

His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, he’s still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna - fuckinnng cum - I’m gonna cum.” You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.

You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an “Uh-Uh” into your pussy. His hand that’s pinning you down doesn’t move and his fingers stay buried inside you. He’s licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didn’t even know you can make.

When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.

“Sorry… you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didn’t want to stop.” He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.

“You’re sorry? Holy shit Eddie, I’ve never cum that hard in my entire life.”

He smiled triumphantly, you’d think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.

“Fuck, we taste so good together.” You moan.

“Holy fucking shit, you’re my dream girl.”

“Let me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.” You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.

You’ve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.

“Wow Eddie… you’re beautiful.”

You smile at him with that devilish little smile he’s becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.

You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.

“Please.” Now he’s the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, there’s a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.

But there’s something you want more, something you’ve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.

You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But it’s bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know you’re addicted to it now.

“Your cock is huge baby, I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out.” You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.

“Holy - fuckING - sh - shit!” Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.

He’s about to apologize but you don’t pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. There’s tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but you’re moaning and so he can tell you’re enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.

Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, he’s babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.

When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. But he’s also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.

“Hey, I wasn’t done!” You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.

“Yeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.” He’s the one whining now.

“Can I ride you?” You ask him like that’s even a question.

“Fuck yeah you can.”

You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. It’s still a stretch but you’re so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.

“Oh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Yeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.”

You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and you’re moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.

“Suck.”

You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and you’re about to mourn the loss but then he’s rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.

He starts fucking you so fast that you can’t keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. He’s fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.

“Eddie I’m c - close I-I’m close.” Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.

“Me too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.” His feet are flat on the mattress and he’s somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you aren’t even sure you’re on this planet anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, where do you?”

Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.

“Inside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!” You start to meet his thrusts, he’s still rubbing your clit and you’re so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.

“Oh fuck!!!” Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth.

When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.

“I’m gonna fuckin marry you someday.”

You laugh, even though he doesn’t sound like he’s joking.

“Yeah? I think I’d like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.”

You both started cracking up at that.

“I’m serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best ones…” You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.

“That’s not gonna work the same now that I know you’re just using it against me…”

“You sure about that?” You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.

“Ugh, no. You’re still not getting them back though, I’ll buy you new ones.” He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.

“Why? So you can just take those ones too?” You tease.

“Nah, I have the real thing now. I’d rather take them off you.”

Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a mission to recover your prized research from your greedy ex-employer goes awry when you, the crew's pacifist, decide to join the fight in the name of saving your beloved captain. when you awake from your near-mortal injuries, luffy demands to know why you put yourself in danger, and you're not sure you can answer him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧���: luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: title from cariño by the marías, description of injuries, angst and fluff, researcher!reader, requested

𝐚/𝐧: i really liked writing this 🙆 thanks for the request! sorry it took a minute 😃

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Luffy didn’t know if he should try to hug you or get as far away from you as he could. Did you want him to go? Did you want him to stay? He tired gouging it from your face, but all he found was indifference, your fingers toying with the edges of your latest read. 

“Say what you think,” he finally said. Luffy pulled up your desk chair and sat across from where you sit cross-legged on your bed. 

Your lips pursed, brows meeting. “I think… I think all of this is stupid.”

Luffy had to fight back the instinct to disagree, unsure if that would bode well when your usual easy smile was nowhere in sight. But it wasn’t stupid, not to him. Not when it concerned you. “That guy stole your research.”

A strangled laugh left you. “I can rewrite the journals. I can do more research. I…” You clapped the book shut and set it aside, eyes on the ground. “I can’t get a new Luffy.” Your cheeks burned instantly. “Or—or a new Zoro, Sanji, and Usopp.”

He ducked down to catch your gaze, startling you into looking right into his warm eyes. He tried a tiny grin. “We’ll get your journals back, okay? Years of research can’t be lost like that.”

That’s what he’d been saying since your old employer finally caught up to you—you and your seven years of study. Mister Fike thrived off the work of others, loafing off people who once trusted him and his dream of an enlightened, freely educated society. 

Bullshit. All of it. The moment you realized he only wanted your research for his own gain was the day you started running—and what luck you had to run right into Monkey D. Luffy. 

Perhaps it was foolish to think Mister Fike would allow so much money to just slip away, but then maybe you were foolish. He’d caught you unguarded in the dead of night, docked at an out-of-the-way port, and swept away with all the data and observations you’d spent so long crafting. Your life’s work, gone in the blink of an eye.

Your hand grazed your cheek where a bandage covered the cut Mister Fike had given your face—his only warning before you were frozen into fear and let him walk away. 

Mister Fike would do much worse if Luffy got in his way. You clamped shut your eyes and pleaded, “Don’t. I can start over, Luffy. It’s not worth the risk.”

He stayed a moment in quiet thought and you nearly hoped Luffy was hearing you out, until he opened his mouth. “‘Cause you’re pacific, right? That’s what Robin said.”

You blinked at him before a half-amused smile rose to your lips. “Pacifist, Luffy. I’m a pacifist.”

“I just don’t get it. You’ve fought before.”

You shifted at the unpleasant reminder, memories flashing in your mind of a time your hand had been forced. “Because I had to.”

Luffy sighed and sat in thought, taking in your nervous twitching before he caught sight of your desk, where papers were scattered across the surface from where you’d searched for any notes you had left. Your life’s work, stolen from you. One day your research was going to help people—it was your dream—and by the gods, Luffy was not going to let some asshole take that from you.

“We know where to find him,” Luffy said, standing. He met your widened eyes. “Nami was able to track him down pretty easy.”

You lurched forward and caught his hand, rising quickly. “Please. Don’t do this. I can’t risk it.”

Luffy simply cast your hand a look before he was prying you off him, squeezing your fingers as a less than reassuring smile took his face. “Then I will.”

He turned swiftly and made for the door, already back in his head about how he would go about tearing Mister Fike apart when a loud thump had him swiveling around again. You stomped across the floor, collecting your shoes and the bo-staff you hardly had any use for, spinning it around sharply to test your rusty skills. You settled him with a firm glare with nothing too real behind it. “If we do this, we do it together.”

And just like that he was a kid at Christmas, bouncing on his toes as he hooked his arm through yours and started hurrying down the hall, your staff clanging against the walls. “We never fight together! This is great!”

You failed to share in his optimism, trying with everything in you to keep the looming dread at bay. 

જ⁀➴

Your whole body locked up at the horrifying crack of a skull under your staff, and you swiftly defended your actions to your own self. They attacked me. I had no choice.

You just had to get through this battle without looking too long at the red splotching your weapon. 

Mister Fike’s ship hadn’t changed much from when you’d frequented the place. The halls were a bit dustier, though. No wonder he needed your research so bad. There was no one left to take advantage of.

Past the third deck security, you flew down the hall, muscle memory taking you back to Fike’s office. The plan was simple. Get in, get out. Simple. You had nothing to worry about.

Zoro’s familiar shadow suddenly ran up beside you, dragging a relieved gasp out of you. “Oh, thank God.”

He cast you a grin. “I figured you’d want some help.”

Just as the warmth set into your chest, the whole ship tilted sharply before righting itself. Gritting your teeth, you glared at the ceiling. “Luffy!”

“Keep moving,” said Zoro, ushering you along. He busted down the door to the office and sent it splintering around the room. 

“Right, right…” Mumbling kept you steady as you rushed around the office, rifling through drawers and papers till the tell-tale baby blue of your logbook came into view. You pressed it to your chest in a short embrace, sighing deeply.

As much of a fight you put up, your research meant the world to you. Getting it back meant even more. Luffy knew that. Maybe you could consider forgiving him, later, when you’re off the ship and back to safety. 

You and Zoro made it to the main deck in record time; the southern part of the ship just started to tip beneath the waves. Gravity dragged you down, teetering precariously on your heels when Zoro’s hand grounded your shoulder. You murmured a thanks and bolted across the tilting deck. The crew gathered on a level spot, allowing you to catch your breath—before all of it was stolen when you noticed someone was missing.

“Where’s Luffy?” you demanded needlessly as moments later chaos erupted farther up the ship at the helm. Luffy faced Mister Fike, each man contorted by a terrifying rage. Fike’s strength might’ve been great, but surely he was no match for Luffy. Your blood ran cold as you noticed a flash of silver in Fike’s smile. In his wide maw, three rows of rotating teeth glinted in the sun. A zoan-type fruit, perhaps. “That’s new…”

You stood paralyzed alongside your friends, eyes locked on the fight as Luffy lunged at Fike, the man in turn snapping his jaws and narrowly snagging Luffy’s arm. You jolted forward, the only thing stopping you being Nami’s hand closing round your wrist. “He can handle it,” she snapped, her face betraying her panic. 

A guttural scream struck the air. Luffy’s right arm was trapped in Fike’s teeth while his left tried to pry the shark man’s jaw open. Shock shot through everyone before it hit you, your heart dropping. Nami shouted as you took off at break-neck speed, not a thing on your mind aside from the need to help him. Fike’s henchmen—your old colleagues—struggled to stand from where they’d been beaten to a pulp, their efforts useless as you jumped over their heads and reaching hands. Feet pounding across the steel deck, you swept up to the helm, leaping over the last step to find Fike tossing Luffy aside. The boy rose from the ground slowly, chest heaving, eyes blazing. Luffy would terrify you if he didn’t mean so much to you.

“Fike!” You raised your bo-staff and marched toward him. His slitted eyes took you in like a last meal. 

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Looks like someone got their sea legs! Last I saw you, you were bent over the side of this very ship emptying your lunch.”

Luffy murmured your name, drawing your attention as he stalked toward Fike. His arm was practically in shreds, flesh torn and bound to scar. “Let me handle this.” He chanced a look at you, eyes softening. “You’re not a fighter.”

“I can be,” you breathed, resolve solidifying. You set your jaw and faced your old employer, taking one step at him just as Luffy’s arms grabbed your middle and flung you behind him. “Luffy!”

“Stay back.” His tone left little room for discussion, and the way his eyes flashed at you had you frozen in place, not able to stand. 

Watching from the ground, your blood boiled at each strike and slash Fike took at your captain—your friend. The future King of the Pirates. Fike’s eyes darted to you every other move, glimmering like he wanted you to watch. Like Fike expected you to sit by and do nothing. 

You’d been a pacifist most of your life. Ever since your home and half your village were burned to the ground due to the actions of quarreling pirates and marines, you made a vow to never be one to perpetuate such violence. You’d done pretty well at keeping that vow, going out to spread knowledge to those who couldn’t access it on their own—and then you met Mister Fike, who tricked you into thinking he wanted the same as you, for everyone to get the chances you never had as a child. But Fike was a liar, the kind of liar you hated the most; the kind who burned down people’s lives with their selfish lying. 

Finding Luffy was both a saving grace and an inevitable end to your vow. He was kind and just and generous, and you loved being on his crew dammit, but he asked things of you you weren’t sure you could give. Things like fighting. You almost heard his cheery laughter and litheful voice now, saying, “Fight for what you believe in, for the people you love, and you won’t have anything to regret!”

A sharp gasp left you breathless as Fike nearly caught Luffy’s head in his jaws. Luffy grabbed at Fike’s razor-sharp teeth, prying them back open even while in the shark-man’s grasp. 

Luffy asked many things of you. Things you wanted to give him. Like fighting for those you care about and care about you in return. You hated violence with a burning passion—but perhaps you loved Luffy more. You rose to your feet and lunged forth, bo-staff catching Fike’s gut. Fike lurched back and snarled, throwing Luffy aside to zero in on you instead. You sent hit after hit at him, driving him back all while he kept that smug grin on his maw. 

Angry huffs of breath puffed from your lips until Fike caught you staff in his fist, cracking it between his jaws. Luffy grunted your name and your eyes found him instinctively, guard dropped as soon as you spotted him in a lump a few feet off. Fike grabbed you instantly and suspended you in the air, his claw-like hands constricting your diaphragm. He leered right in your face, tongue passing over his lips. “Should’ve listened to your friend.”

Letting slip a growl, you snapped your head forward to try his own tactics, biting his oblong nose sharply. A nasty metallic taste filled your mouth causing you to recoil, gagging. Fike’s grip loosened for all of two seconds before you could no longer breathe, his large hand crushing your torso till a horrifying crack rang in your ears, followed quickly by another, and all at once you hit the ground in a lump. Choked whimpers fled your lips as you curled in on yourself, too focused on your breathing to think about Luffy bellowing your name.

You forced every inhale, the action pinching something in your chest. God, you’d never felt pain like this. Panic surged up your body till it hit your brain—Chopper once yelled at Sanji for his broken ribs, needing to check if his lungs were damaged or impaired. Oh god… You sucked in a breath only to whine it back out and tug at your constricting shirt, sweat beading along your skin.

Through foggy vision and fuzzy ears, Luffy’s voice was the only thing louder than the terrible ringing and ache wrought throughout your body. The pain preluded the numbness that blazed through your ribcage, leaving you unable to breathe quite right but without the pinching to blame it on. Two arms scooped under your shoulders and legs, lifting you into a broad chest. The shifting of your body dragged out a strangled cry. “‘M sorry… ‘M sorry…”

You blinked up to find Luffy’s face silhouetted by the sun blazing behind him. You murmured his name and Luffy picked up his pace, ignoring Nami berating him, ordering him to slow down. He couldn't! He had to get you to Chopper. He chanced another look down at your face to see if your brows were any more pinched just to find your eyes shut and expression relaxed. 

“Why’re they sleeping?” he demanded, bounding up the Going Merry’s gangway with Zoro hot on his trail. “Wake up. Gotta wake up so Chopper can ask what’s wrong.”

“They can’t hear ya, Luffy,” Zoro said evenly. He gripped his captain’s shoulder and guided him in a quick pace to where Chopper would be held up in the galley. 

Luffy gritted his teeth, no longer occupied with watching where he’s going, only focused on you. “Then they need to wake up.”

Zoro had both his hands on Luffy’s shoulders, jerking him down the hall and pushing him into the galley. “They will. Give ‘em a minute.”

From the way Zoro said it so softly, Luffy had a feeling it would be longer than a minute.

You woke from a surprisingly restless sleep far later into the day, when the moon peaked up over the horizon and the sun retreated to her home beyond the sea. The very first thing you noticed was that you weren’t dead, which was something. You sure felt like you were dying, but maybe that was due to your lack of experience being mortally injured. The others seemed to be used to it, breaking bones and ribs like it’s an idiotic game. Did this draft you into that game? If so, you had the sense you were losing.

“Good!” Chopper popped through your bedroom door, beaming at you. “You’re awake!”

A gentle smile graced your lips. “Hey, Chop.” A brief glance at the wall clock, and face fell. “You should be in bed.”

The reindeer shuffled toward you, waving his hooves dismissively. “I couldn’t sleep, not till I know you’re all right.”

Warm affection for your friend burst through your chest. You tried to prop yourself up but nearly immediately you settled back down, your torso aching sorely. “Thank you.”

Chopper checked over your chest, feeling here and there for anything still out of place. “You’ve got two broken ribs, but nothing punctured or damaged.”

“Lucky me,” you laughed, fizzling out to a cough. Chopper patted your shoulder, his brows met.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” he stressed. “I’ll get you some water.” He pattered back over to the door, hummed, and peeked back around. “Uhm, Luffy’s awake too.” You blinked widely, unsure what to say. Chopper simply smiled. “I’ll go get him!”

“Wait, Chop—Ah!” One hand on your side, you squeezed shut your eyes and laid back down slowly. “Bad idea. Bad idea…”

You plopped your head back and stared at the ceiling, straining to feel the way the ship rocked on the waves. Left and right, gravity shifted on the rolling waters, calming your suddenly racing heart. Minutes passed, and another figure appeared in the doorway. You lolled your head to the side. Luffy’s eyes stuck to the floor as he entered, his hands fidgety at his sides. 

Too exhausted to break the silence, you waited, beckoning him closer with a flick of your hand. Luffy only took one step, gaze raising to your own. “I got rid of him—Mister Fike.” 

You nodded, trying so very hard to release the tension building in your shoulders. You didn’t care to know what he meant by that at all. Pursing your lips, you steeled yourself to attempt to sit upright one last time. Luffy jumped toward you, hovering his hands over your struggling form, finally taking your arm and helping to prop you up against the headboard. You murmured a thanks, but Luffy only stared at you, eyes flickering over your face, a thousand thoughts behind those eyes. 

Sighing deeply, you took the bait. “Spit it out, Luffy. What’s wrong?”

He narrowed his eyes like it should’ve been obvious, sucking in a breath and shoving the words out. “You shouldn’t have risked yourself for me.”

A small fire lit in your heart, right where Luffy usually occupied it. You raised a brow in challenge. “But you’re allowed to do the same for me?”

Luffy replied a curt, “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes to that. “Ridiculous. You ask me to fight and when I do, you tell me I shouldn’t. Pick a side, Luffy.”

He plopped himself down on the edge of the bed, face hard as he formulated exactly what he wanted to say in a way that made sense. “I asked you to fight, not get hurt.”

“If the roles were switched, you would’ve done the same.” Your hand found his. “You have done the same. You’re my captain and above that my friend. I regret nothing.”

Luffy stared at how you cupped his hand in both of yours, his eyes drifting to the dark bruising around your midsection. “Just don’t do it again.”

You deflated like that, dropping his hand and shifting away despite how it hurt. He didn’t understand, and you weren’t sure how to get him to. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

Luffy didn’t know what that meant, but he knew he didn’t like it. “Fine. You don’t have to talk to me anymore.” He made to stand when your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually walk away, and you reached out to grab his arm. A grunt slipped past your lips, causing him to whip back around.

“Luffy.” He froze, hearing the difference in how you said his name now, like a plea instead of the usual reprimand. “I had to compromise my values today.”

A brief apology flashed across his face. “I—”

“Even if you hadn’t asked me to,” you cut in sharply. “I would have done nothing different. Don’t ask me not to risk myself for you because it's useless. I’d do it a hundred times over.”

He assessed you carefully, skeptically. Desperately? “Why?”

“Do I need a reason?” You chuckled wryly.

“I do.” You gazed into each of his eyes, the words so far out of reach, buried beneath months of excuses.

“You know why.” He had to. Your eyes implored him to see right through you like he always had before, to see how your heartbeat sounded like his name. You knew Luffy was smarter than anyone gave him credit for, so he had to know you loved him. But… Luffy just stood there, confused as ever, breaking down your hope. “Do I have to spell it out?”

He blinked. “That’d be nice, yeah.”

You gave him a long, hard look, trying to gauge if he was serious (of course he was) and promptly set your jaw. “I… care about you. In ways I didn’t think I could care about someone.” You averted your eyes. “I don’t regret breaking my vow of peace, because I did it to help you. I’d do anything for you. And I…”

Eyes shut tightly, you wondered if that was enough spelling out before he finally got the message and put you out of your misery. The sooner he knew, the sooner he could tell you you’re an idiot and you could both move on like it never happened. You didn’t expect Luffy’s warm, warm hands to take your face so gently, eyes baring into you hotly. 

It was unfair of him to have such pretty eyes. Despite their chesnut-y hue, they reminded you of the sea. Wild, reckless, filled with unabandon. You envied him when he looked like this. Luffy loved with every muscle in his body, unable to hold anything back, and you… you weren’t like that. You held your cards flush to your chest, discomfort chilling your skin with every piece of your heart you gave away.

He smiled at you now; not the bright, beaming ones he shot around willy-nilly. Luffy’s soft smile caught you unawares, drawing you in like a moth to a fervent flame till your lips parted and a tiny sigh left you. His lips curled up, almost teasing as he said, “I know.”

“You know?” you asked, brows met.

“Yep,” he replied, popping the p. “You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

“Oh?” You scoffed. “Really. And what exactly do you know, Captain?” 

Your breath hitched at Luffy’s sudden proximity, his forehead meeting yours in a skin-kiss you only ever read about in your silly romance novels. You squeaked rather embarrassingly, “Luffy?”

Your captain’s smile never faltered as he leaned into your ear, whispering, “I know you like me.”

Eyes blown wide, an awkward laugh erupted out of you, your hands pushing him away. “O-kay. Ha! Real funny, Loof.” His hand pressed right over your heart, only worsening the sporadic and slightly concerning rate of your heartbeat. “L-Loof… Luffy, don’t do that.”

One beat, then two. Luffy’s eyes drifted up to meet your own, his hand dropping to his side. His brows rose just so. “So you don’t like me?”

A firm no rose to the tip of your tongue and fell right off, leaving you to choke on nothing. Luffy looked at you so earnestly it was painful. “I…” You couldn’t say it, no matter how his eyes asked you to. Perhaps there was one thing he asked you couldn’t do. “You need sleep.”

“You need to be honest,” he snipped back. “You know I could’ve handled it. Why did you help me?”

Warmth flooded your cheeks under his gaze. “If you know everything then why be so mean to me, huh?” Again you shoved him off, wincing as your chest muscles pinched. “If you know I love you, then why interrogate me? It’s unfair! You know I can’t say it! I’m not like you! I broke a few ribs saving your ass, so what? I’d do it again! Why the fuck are you laughing?!”

Chest heaving, you sniffed and wiped at your damp cheeks, heartbreaking as all Luffy did was throw his head back and laugh. Crestfallen, your waterline dotted with anguish. “Go—Go away, Luffy.” Is this what he wanted? To humiliate you? Fine. You won’t bother next time. You’d let the next shark-man snap his pretty face off. See if you cared. 

The tears spilled over, Luffy’s smile dwindling down to something barely there. “‘M sorry. You’re just… funny.”

An afflicted laugh tumbled off your lips, hardly believing any of this was real. Luffy’s left hand clasped around yours, tightening when you fought out of his grip, and his right reached to wipe away the tears glittering down your cheeks. Your face scrunched up as you swatted at him, falling apart. “Fuck off.”

“I love you too.” The words seized all the breath left in you, which wasn’t a lot, leaving you to gasp it all back in. 

You shook your head slowly. “What?”

His finger poked your forehead. “You said it first.” Blinking perplexedly, you replayed all that you had spat out, mortification shadowing your face… until Luffy’s own words eclipsed your own.

“You… what?”

“I’m sorry for laughing,” he grinned, making work of drying your face before he sat back on the bed, legs crossed. “And for calling you funny.” He glanced away, fiddled with the bed covers, and snapped his eyes back to you. “Can you say it again?”

You heard your heart in your head, feeling every swipe of his fingers against your skin as he took your hands, chasing away all discomfort surrounding those little words. From the way he smiled, you felt he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t, and something in that sparked a need in you. You sucked in a breath, letting it out as a forceful, “I love you.”

Luffy grinned blissfully, letting out another tiny laugh, kissing the backs of your hands. A hesitant smile rose to your face, ready to meet his, and with your bottom lip between your teeth, you risked scooting over, shyly making him room beside you. Luffy wasted no time in slipping in beside you, careful not to hurt you. Not a word passed between you as his skin flushed against yours. Each touch was tentative, new, yet strangely familiar. He sparked up a conversation like nothing had happened at all, asking about what you’d do with your research when it was all complete, telling you about his whale friend Laboon and how you’d get along. 

Right as your eyes grew fluttery, the morning sun peeking in through the window, Luffy lifted his head from the nook he’d made of your neck, prying you away from sleep. “Yeah?”

“If you’re gonna get hurt for me,” he mumbled, “don’t pass out. You scared the shit outta me.”

You carded your hand through his hair, pushing him back to lie down with a laugh. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[sugurufic]

The D Standard (Roommate!Geto X F!Reader)

Summary: Roommate!Suguru thinks that you are too hot to date losers and gives you a standard of what good dick feels like.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: basically porn without plot, slight choking, unprotected piv, sex, oral(f!receiving), no use of y/n, infidelity(?), amateur writing, written in one sitting and not proofread. yeah idk what possessed me to write this.

masterlist

Suguru, your pretty roommate and best friend, was laying on the couch of your shared living room, watching a movie. You weren’t home, out for a date with that loser fuck-buddy of yours. Why you always dated losers, he has no idea. You’re so pretty and amazing that any guy would be delighted to be on his knees to worship you, but you attract losers, losers who don’t see your worth. He doesn't allow the forbidden thoughts to form, focusing on the chocolate melting in his mouth instead.

With the movie playing in front of him, he doesn’t really hear you quietly open the door and enter, dropping your shoulder bag on the shoe-rack with a light thud. You’re half disappointed to hear the movie running on the tv, not wanting to hear another lecture from your infuriatingly pretty best friend about valuing yourself and to stop dating losers.

You hope that he doesn't notice you, but curse his pretty eyes, they are attentive. His brow creases when he sees you, checking his phone to ensure that it wasn’t too late. It is still early in the night, and you are back, seeming very disappointed. It doesn’t take him too long to come to conclusions.

“Quick night?” he asks, patting the space next to him. He breaks a piece of chocolate for you, as you plop down next to him, an exhausted sigh escaping your mouth. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” You shake your head, enjoying the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. At least the chocolate didn’t disappoint you. “Before you start to lecture me again - yeah, yeah, this guy was bad too, he was done before I even got started.”

He purses his lips to stop the laugh from escaping. “I think you should get at least one good dick experience, so you know what to look for.” he says instead.

“But how will I know who has a good dick?” You snicker, crossing your hands over your chest. “It’s not like guys come with reviews.”

“You should fuck a guy that I approve of,” He says.

“You don’t approve of any guy,” you retort, taking another piece of chocolate.

“That's because you don’t get any good guys, all of them losers.” He frowns at you.

“And who would be a good guy, according to you?” You snap. “You?”

“Of course,” He says, smirking.

“Of course,” You mimic. “Show me how good your dick game is, then.”

“Let me kiss you then,” he says, sitting up straight, movie all but forgotten.

Later you can blame the sexual frustration for making this decision, but you let your back arch up from the couch and reach for his pretty lips hovering over yours, ready to accept his tongue in your mouth. But when his lips press against yours, the sweet taste of warm, molten chocolate surprises you. His hands wrapped around your curves, as the chocolate and his skilled tongue took away your ability to breathe. His lips feel so familiar, as if it wasn’t the first time you were kissing him. Maybe the occasional glances you had stolen made it feel like home. The way his large hands ran up and down your spine delicately left goosebumps in their wake, your body feeling like it was set on fire, fire that you will burn yourself in.

Suguru manoeuvres you such that you are straddling his lap, hands entangling in his silky black hair as the familiarity of his touch stoked the fire in your stomach. His soft lips are all over you - your jaw, your neck, your earlobes, your mouth, your nose, your forehead. There’s such delicate intimacy in the mere act of kissing - and you are now hornier than you have ever been, all for your roommate. 

Is this what passion feels like? You can't remember anyone else making you this hot and bothered. They always left you high and dry, getting back home to your trusty hands and vibrator. But this was different - it hurt so good, with your skin ablaze and the beautiful man you knew how to tend to this fire, make it hurt in the way that felt just too good to let go.

You tug at his hair and a moan escapes his mouth, its a sound that turns you on even more, cursing yourself for denying yourself this pleasure. You are slowly grinding against his crotch, feeling his dick get harder under you by the minute. His hands flatten against the small of your back, stopping your grinding motions as he says in a purr, “Stop that, baby. Let me please you first,”

The way his pretty eyes look at you, full of yearning, is enough to make you putty in his hands, compliant to anything he says to you. He effortlessly lifts you up, his nose in your hair as he walks to his bedroom, gently dropping you on his bed. He swiftly pulls off his sweatshirt and pants, leaving his boxers on, then ties his hair away from his face whilst you get rid of all your clothing. 

Suguru can’t help but admire every little detail on your body, his hungry gaze emboldening you - your hand wraps around your tit, squeezing it and pinching your nipple while holding his sultry gaze. Your best friend has made you wetter than any other man, and he wasn’t even entirely naked yet.

He settles between your thighs, hands squeezing the flesh as he part them, eyes on the prize. “Is this okay, baby?” he purrs against the inside of your thigh, warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. You nod, but he gently smacks your thigh, “Words, baby. Use your words.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you reply, voice breathy. 

He takes his time between your legs, kissing up from your toes to your hip, while one hand busies itself with your tits. The way his long fingers play with your nipples has you whining, you didn’t even know you had that many sensitive spots on your body. He treats you like a musical instrument, playing with your strings as a good musician would. His pretty dark eyes never leave yours as he teases your other thigh, dropping wet, open mouthed kisses all over the plush flesh. He gently nibbles on the soft flesh, and you clenched around nothing, wanting nothing more than to shove his head to where you needed him the most.

That's what you do - you entangle your fingers in his hair again, and push him to the apex of your thighs, to the bundle of nerves throbbing in wait for his attention. Suguru has a smirk on his face that has your toes curling as he never fails to look straight into your soul as he makes that first lick up from your dripping hole to your clit. Both of you moan in sync as his tongue touches you - you at the aching pleasure and him at your sweet taste.

Once he had a taste, it was like he couldn’t have enough. His tongue worked you like a man starved, taking both hands to hold your thighs apart. The rhythm he sets with his tongue, pushing in and out has you moaning, gasping as pleasure like you’ve never felt before clouds your mind. Your thighs shake as he brings the attention back to your clit, the mix of your slick and his saliva making you wetter and more sensitive. He brings his long fingers in the mixture, one followed by the other, exploring your warm, gummy walls. 

His fingers reach a spot of you that you’ve never explored and it has you snapping your thighs shut on his head, but he doesn’t relent - his tongue working on your clit as his fingers curl inside you bring you to your peak. He is grinding against the mattress, moaning against your cunt - drunk on your taste. His chin is covered in your slick and saliva, he can barely breathe with the way your thighs are wrapped around him, but he doesn't stop. He cannot. 

The vibrations of his moans bring you the edge of pleasure. Your climax hits you like a brick wall, the white hot pleasure blinding as your back arches off his bed and thighs continue to shake around his head. His fingers continue to fuck you through your high his tongue slowing to kitten licks on your clit as you gush around his fingers. He doesn’t waste a single drop of your creamy cum, licking everything clean till you are pushed to oversensitivity.

You have to push him away with your hands, body twitching as he lets go with a pop, the sight of him straight out of a wet dream. His silky hair is all messed up, his face is flushed red and his chin and fingers are wet with your slick. He puts his fingers into your mouth, and you suck them clean, only for him to push his tongue into your mouth, tasting you from your mouth.

“Can you take my cock, baby?” he purrs.

“Ye-yes,” you say, nodding. You’ve barely come down from your high, but you want to feel his throbbing cock in your gummy walls.

Suguru is quick to oblige, getting out of his boxers. His pretty cock slaps against his stomach, pre-cum already leaking from the flushed tip. You think he has the prettiest of all cocks that you’ve seen. He pulls out the hair tie as he gets comfortable between your legs thrown on either side of his hips. He is gentle as he enters you, giving you time to adjust to his size before he starts to move. 

Suguru seemingly can't get enough of your beautiful body, his soft hands exploring all crevices of your body, kissing all over your skin, playing with your nipples with his hands and mouth. His teeth lightly graze your nipple, and you gasp, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands finally settle on your hips as he sets a steady pace, both of your heavy breaths and the sound of your squelching cunt filling the room. He’s slow at first, kissing your mouth as he moves his hip against yours, the act more intimate than with any of your boyfriends. It’s like he is making love to you, not just bringing you pleasure.

One of his large hands makes its way up to cradle your jaw as he drops open mouthed kisses and nips the skin, making you squirm in his grasp. His thrusts get rougher when your legs close around his narrow waist as he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, sucking on it to leave a mark. His pubic bone rubs against your clit as his heavy balls slap against your ass with his thrusts, and you can’t help the moans that escape your mouth.

“That’s it baby, tell me how good I'm making you feel,” he chokes out with a groan as you squeeze him.

“So good, Suguru,” you groan, as his cock pushes against that spot repeatedly. “I’ve never had dick so good,”

“You’re so good for me baby,” he praises you, feeling you clench him. “Cunt is sucking me in so good,”

“Only for you, baby,” you whimper out. “You fuck me so good,”

Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at it as he lets out a loud moan and his thrusts get sloppier, his cock throbbing inside you. “I’m close baby,” he chokes out. “Are you close?”

You can only moan in response, fingers finding your clit between your bodies, rubbing it as his hand wraps around your neck, gently squeezing it. It’s what pushes you over the edge, the combination of his hand squeezing your neck, his cock pressing against your sweet spot and his whimpers in your ears. You’ve never cum on cock before this, and you almost regret not getting to experience blinding pleasure like this before.

Your cunt squeezes him like a vice and his sloppy thrusts stop as he stills, spilling his cum inside you, colouring your gummy walls white.

Suguru’s weight on your body is comforting as you both come down from your highs, panting against each other. “You good baby?” he asks, planting a kiss on your forehead as he gently cradles your head in his big hand.

“Ye-yeah,” you nod, blushing. You just fucked your best friend and roommate, but him kissing your forehead feels too much. You feel empty when he pulls out, but him being a gentleman, cleans you up and gets you a change of clothes and your phone while you use his bathroom. 

“Sleep here tonight,” he asks, trying not to sound too pleading.

“Sure,” you say, lying down on his bed, in his arms, and in his clothes. Your bodies fit like pieces of a puzzle. Your phone rings just as you are about to fall asleep in Suguru’s arms. You chose to ignore it, instead snuggling closer into his warm, broad chest.

“She’s busy,” Suguru answers the phone for you instead, the smug voice leaving no doubts as to where.

You will worry about the shift in your relationship tomorrow morning, but for tonight he is yours and you are his.

A/N: sorry if it's bad it's my first time writing full-blown smut

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi hello! Idk if your request is currently open or not, but I'd like to request a fic where the Reader is a member of the Smiling Critters, they're still alive due to Catnap's fondness of them. They're on his side but hate it, only doing it in exchange that Dogday wouldn't get hurt.

With Catnap's permission, they would visit Dogday and give him whatever food they could find ( let's say Catnap still has some fondness for Dogday inside of him ) but with limitations.

You can change the idea into how you prefer! Thank you in advance :D

Ps. Mind adding a scene where Dogday calls the Reader " Angel " and reminisces about Catnap's fondness for both of them? I hope it makes sense, I just melt seeing Dogday calling us Angel :'D

Here We Stay

Note || KSJSJSJD I loved writing this, everything makes sense :D My apologies I took so long to write this! Kinda short too but UUHHHHH-

WC || 1,176

Sypnosis || being a member of the Smiling Critters meant you would’ve died one way or another, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is hope for the best.

One of the worst possible things could be corporate greed, even just having good intentions yet the worst execution is a plausible answer. Just how could you be forced into this situation? Trying to make things worth Catnap’s while is harsh, the only reason you knew you were alive right now was merely because he was particularly fond of you and DogDay alike. He wasn’t the same after the fact the Prototype’s reign began, you weren’t aware of much yourself, so all of this was just plain scary to you.

All your friends just disappeared and died, some of which you didn’t know was happening. You only got all that information because of DogDay.

You hated the circumstance he was put in, it seemed so painful for one’s legs to be severed and just hung up there the way he is now.

Repeatedly however, DogDay has assured you he didn’t mind being like this so long as you were in good health. He couldn’t bear knowing he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing for one of the only friends he has left. So many of his friends were gone already, DogDay would elect to die for you if it meant you would live.

Truth be told, you had only exchanged the peace you had before so that DogDay would not get hurt anymore then he already has. Catnap had full will and the power to completely end your life otherwise, you just were scared. 

Sometimes when you could, you would take a look at the broken clock that had somehow still worked like normal–and think about what time it would be in the day–Is it nighttime? How about daytime. Oh how you wished you weren’t subject to things the way they are now, all because of the wretched rules of humans and even the abject rulings of the Prototype himself.

Why would Catnap even view that silly toy as a god anyway? Perhaps that was for him to know, and for you to find out. Once, your life isn’t in any danger any longer. Just maybe it will be possibly any hour now, one can only hope. 

Trying to scrounge the Factory for any possible food was getting harder and harder every hour, one could argue it may be the stupid little mice stealing those last precious crumbs away. You would argue it would be the little Wuggies, those small toys were objectively brisk–and limpid too (colors so closely related within the walls of the factory, you forget sometimes they are even there).

You try hard to not forget where you are, in order to get back to DogDay with food for him. That was the only reason you were even anywhere else and away from your sunny friend, you would still be close to him any chance you get on account of Catnap’s permission. 

You wished otherwise.

“Ugh!” Groaning, you step over the possible weak spots that would have you falling through the floor. “There has to be food around here somewhere..” You mention, notioning to the fact you had now stepped into an office. There would be bound to be food here!

With an ounce of hope, you began scrounging the office for any possible heaps of food that you find. Ruffling through any drawers and papers, this office seemed to be a mess. You paid no mind to the messes anyway, there are bound to be messes since the last ten years in Playtime Co. 

“Success! Haha!” You triumphantly hold a bundle of donuts in your hand, “Take that Hour of Joy!” 

Winding down from your self inflated permeated success, you began making your way back to DogDay. You’d have to speak to Catnap to get to him first unfortunately, you always hated this part. Nonetheless, it was necessary.

You picked up the phone, already dialing Catnap to inform him of current conditions. You carefully had curated your words, you always did this when you spoke to him which ever way.

His deep voice rumbled soundly in your ears, “Food, for him?” 

“Yes.” You silently groan, kicking a benign rock stubble as you stand around while awaiting his confirmation. Why the hell was he so scary to you? Though, Catnap’s voice was oddly reassuring when he spoke without malcontent. For a moment, there was a long pause. 

You swore you could hear someone screaming and pleading to the giant purple cat; you felt bad for the unlucky victim that had crossed paths with Catnap.

“...” Then the phone hung up, you sighed a breath of relief that you could visit DogDay. Many things you would do for him just aside visiting, was having to loop in Catnap on whatever the contents of the material you would bring in hand with you. You knew the cat well enough his pause of silence meant yes. 

Well, you can go now at least. You don’t even want to recount the last time you had brought something to DogDay without telling Catnap. 

You stepped over the rubble that had led up to the heretic altar, you recognize he is one of the many dubbed a heretic, you truly wished he wasn’t in so much pain this way. Though immediately another thought crossed your mind.

This hallway needed some serious cleaning up to do.

A strained voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You didn’t have to bring anything my friend.” DogDay was being positive about you as per usual, you sighed as you stepped up to him then sat down as your legs were weary and tired. 

“DogDay we are friends, I’d do anything for you.” You motion, taking out a donut so you could feed it to him. Though in a rare few circumstances you were allowed to free DogDay’s hands so he could eat himself. Unfortunately it was not one of those circumstances. He took a willing bite, chewing it up as he savored it. 

For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to articulate anything, “Do you, remember how he was before… Angel?” DogDay was still mournfully thinking about Catnap’s old self, which he had every right to do. Knowing someone for as long as you would, then that someone changing so drastically–especially not in a good way–can be startling. 

You fed him another bite of the donut you held in your hand, “How could I forget? He was quite silent, sure enough. But he was always considering each and every one of us.” You nod with a tilted head. Oh, if you had the chance to turn back the clock and change things, you would’ve done it all in a heartbeat. 

Sincerely, you were scared. Scared for Catnap, scared for DogDay. All your possibly living friends you know are still alive. 

You grin slightly, wanting to alleviate the conversation and change the subject, “You might need a cleaning.” DogDay couldn’t help but bark–reminiscent of laughter–at your words. He shifted himself noticeably, most likely to bear the weight from one end to another. And remove the discomfort for a little bit before it would dare come back. 

“You may be right, my angel.”

"One can only hope."

[misc-obeyme]

Worth It

I was possessed by the spirit of macaron (or barbmon or mambatos or... what was the other one I saw? something to do with greed?) and HERE IT IS. I just- they're so- I can't help it, okay??? This is absolutely ridiculous but I REGRET NOTHING. Left it so I had the option of a smutty part two but I haven't decided if I'm gonna write it yet or not. Also, tagging @lonely-north-star as requested in exchange for the cutest art I ever saw~

Mammon x Barbatos - okay you can read part two here it's smut lol

Warnings: nothing really this is mostly fluff - just some making out and a cameo by Little D No 2

Mammon pressed himself up against the wall of the castle as he crept down the massive hallway in the semi darkness. He knew the passages well enough by now, having mapped out the most important ones. This particular hallway would lead him to the vault if he followed it far enough. However, Mammon also knew this was the way to the kitchen.

Technically, he shouldn’t be here. He should be at the House of Lamentation working on that stupid report for Devildom Law. And yeah, he’d tried to write some of it. It took maybe five minutes before he was bored out of his mind and decided he had something more important to do.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t notice Little D No 2 until he was tripping over him.

“Ow, hey watch it!” No 2 protested.

“Shhh!” Mammon bent down to clasp a hand on No 2’s mouth.

“Mm-mm!” No 2 exclaimed.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya?” Mammon whispered. “I ain’t nobody’s papa! Now be quiet or he’ll hear you!”

A door opened and light spilled into the hallway, illuminating the scene. Barbatos looked about for a moment before spotting them.

Mammon stood up straight, No 2 still clasped in his hands.

Barbatos shook his head a bit. “Did you truly think I would not notice you sneaking by?”

“I wasn’t sneakin’!” Mammon said immediately.

No 2 kicked his legs. “Mm! Mm-mm-mm-mmmm!”

“Ya little traitor!” Mammon said.

“If you would please let Little D No 2 go,” Barbatos said calmly. “He has his own work to be getting to.”

No 2 groaned as Mammon put him down, surprisingly careful.

“But Mr. Barbatos!” No 2 exclaimed as soon as Mammon removed his hand from No 2's mouth.

“No arguments, No 2,” Barbatos said, though his voice was soft and there was a trace of a smile on his face. “You still have dusting to do, if I’m not mistaken.”

No 2 groaned again, but he scampered away down the hall as he did so.

Barbatos looked across the hallway at Mammon, who stayed where he was, frozen in uncertainty.

“You’re slipping, I fear,” Barbatos said. “Normally you make it quite a bit closer to the vault before being caught.”

Mammon folded his arms. “Yeah? Well if I’m slippin’, so are you. How long have ya known I was here? Didn’t even bother to come lookin’.”

Barbatos actually chuckled at this and Mammon was suddenly fighting down a blush. “My apologies,” Barbatos said. “I’m afraid I was unable to leave the cake I’m baking unattended in order to apprehend you.”

Mammon blushed harder and looked away. “Yeah, well, I ain’t here for the vault anyway.”

“No?” Barbatos asked and there was genuine confusion in his voice. “Then what has brought you here this evening?”

Mammon pulled a small packet out of his jacket pocket. “I-I happened to come across this. Know it’s pretty rare. Thought ya might appreciate it.”

Without even looking at Barbatos, Mammon crossed the space and put the packet in his hands.

“That’s all, I’ll see myself out,” Mammon said, as he turned away.

Barbatos caught his wrist.

There was a brief moment where neither of them moved or spoke. Mammon’s heart was racing.

“This is one of the rarest teas available in the Devildom,” Barbatos said quietly. “Did you really intend to give it to me without staying to sample a cup?”

Mammon gulped, still turned away. His wrist was tingling where Barbatos was still holding on. Barbatos wasn’t wearing his gloves, having taken them off while he was baking. The contact between their skin was both thrilling and terrifying.

Mammon turned around, effectively removing his wrist from Barbatos’s grip. “I-I mean, if ya want me to…”

“I would enjoy nothing more than serving tea to the Great Mammon,” Barbatos said.

Mammon looked up at him sharply. He was greeted by a teasing smile, but also a glimmer of genuine pleasure. Mammon took a deep breath and said, “That’s right! Of course ya want me to stay! I don’t mind stickin’ around for a bit, but ya better be grateful!”

Barbatos stepped aside to allow Mammon to enter the kitchen. “My gratitude knows no bounds.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Barbatos as he entered the kitchen and settled on a stool by the island counter. Barbatos went around to the other side with the packet of tea and began to prepare the tea pot.

Barbatos looked up at Mammon through the fringe of his bangs. "If you had no intention of stealing from the vault, why were you sneaking through the hallway in the dark? You should have let me know you were coming."

Mammon huffed. He was annoyed at how hot his face still was. He couldn't seem to calm down. "I just… wanted to surprise ya."

Barbatos chuckled. "Then you have succeeded," he said. "I am both surprised by the fact that you are not here to steal and by the rarity of the tea you've brought me. Do I want to know how you obtained it?"

"I didn't steal it," Mammon said instantly. His blush was gone now and he sat up straight. "I saw it for sale and Lucifer told me what it was. So I earned some extra cash by pickin' up a couple modelin' gigs, that's all."

Barbatos paused what he was doing to meet Mammon's eyes across the counter. "You would do that for me?"

Mammon knew this was his chance to be honest. For how long had he been playing this little game with Barbatos? How long had they been tip toeing around each other, never fully committing, never even acting like they were close. Mammon didn't know what was holding Barbatos back - propriety probably - but for him? It was the knowledge that this demon was too good for him.

Despite that, he wasn't afraid of being rejected. He knew better than that.

"Yeah," he said, easily, not breaking eye contact. "I would. I did."

The smile that spread across Barbatos's face was the most beautiful thing Mammon had ever seen. So often he saw the knowing smile or the indulgent smile, but this was a genuine expression of fondness. Like Barbatos had finally cast aside his mask to reveal how he truly felt.

"Thank you, Mammon," Barbatos said, simply.

Mammon's heart suddenly became noisy in his ears.

When the tea was ready, Barbatos poured them each a cup, then came around the counter to sit on a stool beside Mammon. He placed the cups in front of them.

Mammon took his cup, which was still quite warm. Steam rose from it, fogging up his glasses.

Barbatos shook his head, though he was smiling. He put down his own cup and reached across to take Mammon's glasses off himself. He put them down on the counter. "You really needn't wear your sunglasses indoors, wouldn't you say?"

Mammon was so stunned by this intimate gesture that he didn't know how to respond for a moment. "Y-yeah," he mumbled.

Barbatos sipped at his tea, then closed his eyes in satisfaction. "This is indeed a high quality blend. You must have paid quite a bit of Grimm for it."

Mammon shrugged. "Eh," he said noncommittally. He didn't care how much the tea had cost. Barbatos's smile and his satisfied expression was worth every Grimm.

Barbatos opened his eyes. "Eh?"

Mammon sipped at his own cup before responding. "It was worth it."

Barbatos seemed to understand what he meant, the part that he didn't say. Though it was often hard for Mammon to tell just what Barbatos was thinking. He was too good at masking his emotions. Mammon was aware of how Barbatos only ever let him see what he wanted Mammon to see.

Barbatos put his tea cup down on the counter and slid off his stool. Mammon looked at him curiously, once again unable to read his expression.

Barbatos took the cup from Mammon's hands and put it on the counter next to his own. Mammon let him, responding easily and without resistance.

And then Barbatos moved in between Mammon's knees and kissed him.

Mammon's eyes fluttered closed as he tasted the light flavor of the tea on Barbatos's lips. His hands reached out instinctively to pull Barbatos closer. Even as his heart was racing again and the blush had sprung back up, Mammon also wanted more of this.

To his surprise, Barbatos responded almost as eagerly, one hand on Mammon's waist, the other on his thigh. Mammon thought he would combust when he felt a light nip at his bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth.

The next few minutes was all heat and tongues and the lingering taste of tea. Mammon thought he'd fall off his stool because he felt so dizzy.

Barbatos pulled away for a moment and looked at Mammon with half lidded eyes. "Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?"

It was a miracle that Mammon did not die on the spot. Instead, he let Barbatos lead him out of the kitchen. When Little D No 2 returned in search of his boss, he found nothing but two cold cups of expensive tea and a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses.

worth it part two | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there! I just wanted to congratulate you for all your hard work!! All of you have made an important account for this fandom, and I hope you're all doing alright

As a treat (and only if you want!!), can you tell me a cool fic you've read but never recommended before? (If not, that's quite alright)

Hello. Here are some fics I've read and enjoyed recently that I don't think we've recommended before, but if we have they are worth recommending again and adding to the #mod faves tag...

Marriage in an Orange Grove by shanimalx (T)

Murmurations is the oldest café in Soho, whose clientele is usually limited to reclusive artists, older men who value peace and quiet, and those who know the employees personally. Crowley is all three. (Aziraphale makes Crowley a cup of coffee, and Crowley kind of wants to marry him for it.)

Imagine how the world could be by HolRose (T)

Salesman Crowley is driving home when he sees a man in obvious distress at the side of the road. He stops and offers him a lift. Little does he know that this compassionate action will change his life forever. This is a human AU that can be read as a stand-alone story without reference to the other works in the series.

Between a Book and a Hard Place by LCwrites (E)

After a very enjoyable one-night stand, A. Z. Fell and A. J. Crowley go separate ways, though memories of each other linger. More than they ought to, considering it was nothing but a casual encounter and they won't meet again. How fortunate for them that their respective work is keeping them busy. Having one of his more salacious novels turned into an audio book should be enough of a distraction for Aziraphale. As should be getting to narrate one of the famous M. Cortese's porn books – pardon: historical erotica – for Crowley.

A Tricky Situation (Entirely of his own making) by sixbynine (E)

"Crowley stood up and went to leave, he turned back just as he opened the door and took a deep breath. “You know I was quite excited to come here and work with you. I enjoyed reading your work. I disagree with a lot of it, but your writing style is lovely and every so often you’d let that privileged rich white boy mask drop and it was fantastic. I was hoping to meet that Professor Fell, but I’m beginning to think maybe he doesn’t exist and I’m going to be stuck with a rude stuck up arsehole for the next five years.” He slammed the door behind him before Aziraphale could respond. Aziraphale gaped, open mouthed, at the shut door." -- Aziraphale is teaching at Kings College London. He's been teaching at King College London for a long time now thank you very much and he does not take kindly to new Professors being sprung on him suddenly. Especially when this one has quite publically made his opinon of Aziraphale's work known. Luckily Aziraphale has an understanding penpal...

Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos (NR)

Nearly a year after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, he vanishes from existence, leaving Crowley bereft on Earth. Just when the demon has finally started to heal and move on with his life, he finds his angel by chance in a library. But Aziraphale has no memory of his life as an angel, or of Crowley. How will our hero cope?

But You Are An Ocean by megzseattle (T)

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

- Mod D

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hi may i please request swerve trying to be the human liason on the lost light's wimgmech untill they jump grab his shoulders do a pullup and smooch him.

Thank you! Hope your flights arent horrifically delayed.

Thank you for the request, and sorry for how long it took to finally get it out lol! Coincidentally my flights ended up being okay despite the hell I went through to get onto the planes.

I put a lot of thought into this request, and I wasn't entirely sure what you meant with Swerve being the reader's wingmech, so I went down this route. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it's on the shorter side. Thanks again! :D

Wingmech

Pairing: IDW Swerve x Human Liason Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: After noticing you are lost in love with an anonymous mech, Swerve decides to help you prepare for going after the secret crush you have.

  Swerve has been watching you for a while now.

  It’s not uncommon for the Lost Light’s crew to focus on you. You are, after all, the only human aboard the Cybertronian exploration ship. Though you’ve been here for months, no bot can help but find you fascinating. And Swerve? Well…he’d never admit it to anyone, but his interest in you goes well beyond mere fascination. Yes, you're small, smaller than even him. Yes, you're soft, and squishy, and adorable, and sometimes he really wants to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you right on the lips after confessing his love-

  Okay. So maybe he has a bit of a crush on you. But that’s all it is! A crush that compels him to  keep tabs on where you go and what you do. He’s learned about you from the various conversations he’s listened to during busy nights. He knows you adore dogs and melt at the sight of cats (What are dogs? What are cats? Like hell he knows. He isn’t particularly caught up on his Earth knowledge). He knows you like to turn in early and wake up late. He knows you aren’t exactly a party person, and sometimes being surrounded by robots three times your size is incredibly overwhelming. And following that little tidbit, he understands you don’t like coming to his bar.

  So why are you here now?

  He’s watching you while he makes drinks. Your little form is tucked away in a corner at one of the smaller tables reserved for minicons, hunched over a notebook, eyes focused on the pages of written material he can’t read. Even when he zooms his optics in, your writing is far too small for him to coherently pick up on from this distance. With one hand propped against your cheek and the other idly tapping a pen against your head, you look far too troubled for someone who’s currently spending time in a place where all troubles are drunken away. It makes him curious and concerned. Why would you, someone who hates large crowds and loud environments, be writing in such a place?

  He needs to get to the bottom of it.

  Now, he knows what someone might say about this: “Swerve, it's none of your business. Swerve, they clearly don’t want to be bothered. Swerve, eavesdropping is bad.”

  Well, you know what he would say to all of that? “I’m a bartender. My business is everyone else’s business. That’s what being a bartender entails.”

  So yeah, he’s snooping. But it’s all for a good cause. Being around you is worth it. He’ll always take the chance to talk to you if he can.

  “Whatcha writing?” he asks when he pops up behind you with surprising stealthiness. You let out a surprised shriek and nearly jump right out of your seat. He barely catches a glimpse of your notebook’s contents before you slam it shut and cover it with your arms.

  “Swerve!” you yell, fleshy human cheeks flushing a wonderful pink color (Oh, how he loves the way you blush like that. He wants to make you do it more). “Don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. You humans make the cutest sounds when you're startled.” He folds his servos behind his back and leans forward a little. “I don’t see you in the bar often. A place like this isn’t really the best for writing stories, ya know.”

  You sigh and slip your notebook into the knapsack you always carry around. Darn, he thinks, how will your secrets be spilled to him now? “I’m not writing stories. I’m just…doing research on something.”

  “Research,” he says. “In a bar.”

  “Yes. Research in a bar. Is that so hard to believe?”

  He does a quick scan of your features. The blush on your cheeks has deepened to a shade of red that almost matches his paint job. You're fiddling with your knapsack and guarding that notebook with your life. Suddenly, it comes upon him like a tidal wave; his smile widens with the victorious air of someone who just won a medal. “Oh, I know what's going on here,” he says. “You've been spying on someone, haven’t you?”

  Your reaction only further proves his theory. You look horrified, and the way you frantically rush to defend yourself is like a bright neon arrow pointing directly at your head. “What? No! Nonono, why would you think that?!”

  He laughs. “Oh, you totally are! Your notebook is probably chock-full of evidence, amiright? Wait, don’t tell me! Let me guess!”  He circles the table and plops down across from you. “Is it Ratchet? Nah, too grouchy. Cyclonus? Mm, too weird. Oh, oh! It’s Rodimus, isn’t it? It has to be Rodimus!”

  “What are you talking about?” you ask him.

  He leans forward and smirks. “You're in love, little one. Am I right, or am I right?”

  “I-I’m not-there’s no-” You stutter for a moment longer, then get a hold of your emotions and reel them in. Sitting back and going stone-faced, you stare at him with only the color of your blush signaling what you are currently going through. “I’m not in love.”

  Does it hurt to know you have a crush on someone who isn’t him? Absolutely? But telling you that would mean admitting the feelings he has for you, and no way is he doing that now. His spark aches with the sting of rejection, but he hides it well and decides messing with you will make him feel much better. “C’mon, squirt. You can’t lie to me. It’s as clear as day that someone on this ship has you smitten.”

  “It’s not someone on this ship. I’m a human.”

  “You being a human and us being mechs means nothing. How many months have you been aboard this ship?” He counts off his digits. “Two? Three? No, it’s been five months, hasn’t it? Five months with us and your little spark has finally decided humans just don’t compare to mechs anymore. Aw, how adorable.”

  You look like you want to jump across the table to snap his intake shut. Instead though, you slump back in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “To me? Yeah. But that’s only because I’ve picked up on your reactions. Plus, the fact that you came here to jot down ‘notes’ means…” Now he gets excited. “It has to be someone in this bar.”

  You regard him cautiously. “And what if it is? What will you do about it?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing! My job is to pour drinks and listen to people’s woes. What kind of reputation would I be giving this fine establishment if I were to go around tattling on my loyal customers?” He taps his index digit against his dermas. Scrap, this is really going to hurt him. But he wants to see you happy. “I could help you, you know.”

  “Help me?” you echo.

  “Yeah, why not?” he forces himself to say with enthusiasm. “I’m always ready to help a pal! I’ll be your wingmech! How’s that sound?”

  A wide smile splits across your face and you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle. “Wingmech? Seriously? That’s so cheesy, Swerve.”

  By the Allspark, hearing your laughter is music to his ears. He’s envious of whoever you are crushing on. They’re one lucky mech to have someone like you chasing after them.  But he swallows down his jealousy for your sake and puffs out his chassis proudly. “Cheesy or not, I’m sure I can help you woo your future sweetspark. All you gotta do is learn to use a little bit of the ol’ Swerve charm and bingo, this bot will be yours in no time. So, whattaya say? You wanna employ my humble services?”

  You bite your lower lip and look down at your knapsack. “I don’t know. The Swerve charm may not exactly work on the mech I’m thinking of.”

  “Aha!” He stands up and points at you. “So you admit you're in love!”

  You give him a pointed look. “Alright, alright, fine, I admit it! Yes, there’s someone on this ship I really like. I’ve been writing down things he may or may not enjoy so I can come up with ways to show him that…that I want to…askhimout.” This last part comes out as a weak mutter. It’s obviously difficult for you to admit it, but oh boy is Swerve glad you have.

  “So it’s a he. Hm. IIIInteresting. Mind telling me what he’s like?”

  You smile. “Well, he’s outgoing. And very enthusiastic about what he does. He always has an upbeat attitude and definitely knows how to make me laugh. Some might think he’s a bit of a wise-ass though.”

  Swerve chuckles. “Sounds like a real dream boat.”

  “You…have no idea.” The way you say it sounds strange to him, but he doesn’t think any more of it. You drum your fingers against the table. “What…what would you do if you wanted to tell him that…that you like him?”

  I wouldn’t. I’d tell you I like you and no one else. “I’d probably do something bold. Something that would really grab his attention, ya know?” He thinks. “Does he like you back?”

  “Well, you see…I-I think so? I’m not sure. I talk to him a lot, but we’re…kind of different. I’m definitely not like him, but we get along. The more I hang out with him, the more these feelings grow.” You stare at your hands. “I don’t know if I should be admitting all of this.”

  “No, no, it’s okay!” He’s quick to reassure you. “I want to help! Seriously! I said I’d be your wingmech, and I’m going to uphold my word! So, let’s think! You think he likes you, and you definitely like him back. He’s the extroverted type, bold and brash…so give him a show! Really show him that you want him and you to be together, and you appreciate all of the good company he’s given you since you boarded the ship. The key is to really hit him here.” He thumps his chassis. “Right in the spark. It’s all emotions, squirt! Nothing else to it!”

  “Emotions, huh?” Once again, that odd look crosses you. “Do you think we could…practice?”

  “Practice?”

  “Yeah, like, working on what I’ll do when I finally admit my feelings to him? Would that be okay with you?”

  “Oh, yes, totally!” He stands up. “C’mere, let’s go through it. Think about what you want to say, and then act it out to me.”

  You stand up as well and walk over to him. Looking down, he sees just how small you are compared to him; you barely make it up to his chassis. You study him, biting your bottom lip. You look so nervous. It makes him want to be gentle.

  “Don’t be shy,” he says softly. “There’s no reason to be. It’s just you and I here, yeah? No one will pay attention to us.”

  You draw in a deep breath. “Okay, Okay.” Shaking out your arms, you fixate on him determinedly. “I’m not going to say anything. I’m going to do something. Is that okay?”

  “Oh,” he says, a bit confused. “Sure, yeah! What are you going to do?”

  You take a step back. Then, you jump forward, and he’s startled when you grab his shoulders and pull yourself up. His optics widen when you lean in and give him a short kiss. Every mechanical nerve in his body sings when he feels your lips on his, and he seems to lose control of himself, becoming nothing more than a statue.

  Then, it’s over. You let him go and drop back down, taking a step back and looking at him anxiously. He stares at you, air whooshing in and out of his intake as his systems attempt to cool.

  “It’s…It’s me?” he whispers.

  You lower your head and nod.

  He can’t talk. He can’t make a sound. It’s only for a good few seconds, but when he finally regains control of his vocalizer, he begins to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And then he’s picking you up and spinning you around in a tight hug. “You like me!” he cries. “You like me, you like me!” He couldn’t care less if anyone else in the bar is watching this. The one he’s been crushing on for months has been crushing on him back!

  You laugh along with him. “It took you this long to figure it out? I’ve been dropping hints since we started this conversation!”

  “That’s why you’ve been doing research in the bar! Primus, how did I not realize it sooner?” He holds you back so he can see your brilliant smile. It makes him melt. “I can’t believe you really like me,” he whispers.

  You cup his faceplate in your hands. “I’m guessing your happy about it, Mr. Wingmech?”

  He kisses you again, leaning into your touch. “Well…looks like my humble services paid off.” He pauses. “So…what did you think of the Swerve charm?”

[liveontelevision]

I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.

Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]

OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)

Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D

And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG

Throwing out a CW: Intersex Luci

Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader

♡♡♡

Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.

Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.

You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.

His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.

But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.

When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.

Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.

Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.

He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.

“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.

“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.

“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.

“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.

“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.

“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.

More. He needs more.

As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.

“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.

“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.

You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.

“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”

…

Fine.

“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.

“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.

“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.

“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.

“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.

“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.

“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.

“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.

“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.

“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.

You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.

“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.

“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.

“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.

“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.

You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.

“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.

“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.

“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.

This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.

“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.

Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.

“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,

“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.

“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.

“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.

Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.

You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.

“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.

“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.

♡♡♡

Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER

More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶

!Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora )

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Dreamweaver's Heart

Summary: The Dream Lord takes fascination to a new lucid dreamer in his realm, his Dreamweaver. The waking world is less than kind and he will travel dimensions to make sure you are safe.

Notes: ~8.6k, this was a request sent in by Anon based on this post! Otherwise, I'm sorry for having this fic take such a dark turn? It was supposed to be sweet but then in my search for more Tom Sturridge films, I came across Like Minds and it fucked with me. So now it fucks with my writing until further notice.

Warnings: Don't ever get attached to the characters I make for the plot, graphic descriptions of gore, death, murder, and drowning, betrayal of a friend, nonconsensual kissing (not from Dream), graphic serial killer activities, run in with a serial killer. Dream's a dream tho, a knight in black armor <3 Happy ending :D

I'm not going to say it's 18+, because it's not NSFW, but some of these themes can be disturbing. Please read the tags carefully.

Masterlist

“One, two, three, four, five, okay,” You count your right-hand fingers to yourself. Then cast your eyes on the watch you always carried on your wrist.

“8:13,” You take another look at your surroundings and take in the fresh air and kind sun. “AM,” you concluded.

You look back to your fingers and count again. “One, two, three, four, five,” You listed off in your head. Then one more time look at your watch. This time it read 5:15 PM, but the sun hadn’t moved. A grin crawls up to your face as you realize that you were dreaming. Lucid dreaming to be more specific. 

When you first heard about lucid dreaming in some off-handed news article you rolled your eyes and went on with your morning. There wasn’t much time in your life to worry about those things, not when another project was due, you had another meeting to attend, or another email to look at. But then life got unbearably hard to live with, stress kept piling up, and your vacation hours kept being declined. 

Your dreams turned from weird but forgettable dreams to nightmares of being chased, drowned, or murdered, only for you to both feel and witness again and again. When you wake up in a sweat at the ungodly midnight hours, you open your phone to find the news article again. It took you well over a month to get the hang of lucid dreaming but it was all worth the cognitive effort. Each time you go to sleep you count your fingers, then your clock, then your fingers, and then your clock again. There are always telltale signs that you were dreaming, dreams tend to never make sense so you look for those things. 

You intake another fresh breath of air and smile, head tilted towards the sun. The city air was polluted with car fumes and sewage smells, and while you loved the city, you do miss the easier days back in the countryside. You imagine the lush meadows, old trees, and the house that your grandfather hand-built for him and his wife. Before you the scenery changes and you’re sitting on a hand-carved rocking chair in a thin shirt and shorts. 

“This is the life,” You groan out to yourself as you begin the rock back and forth, thighs and arms trembling from a stretch. You stay like that for god knows how long, the waking world not a priority of your thoughts as you had the next day off. 

You only get up when sweat begins to collect along your hairline and the sunhat you are wearing begins to become itchy. A farm dog comes up to you and pants at your side urging you to go inside the house, maybe for a cup of lemonade, which sounded delicious the more you thought about it. 

When you look into the house from the windowed front door, a black figure briefly catches your eyes. It walks within the kitchen, running a finger across the worn wooden table and tracing lines of chipped paint over the tops of chairs. Confusion eclipses your face as his figure distorts on the thick glass and you open the door quickly. 

Much to your surprise, there was no such figure when the door opened. Your heart beats inside your chest and you look down at your fingers again. One, two, three, four, five… six. Six fingers, which is odd. You exhale slowly, it’s just a dream you say to yourself and carry on.

While sitting at the kitchen table you pinch your index and thumb together then bring both hands until they meet the other’s fingers. You pull them apart and a delicate golden string connects the fingers together. With a calming inhale of breath you move your fingers purposefully, drawing a picture of lemonade with a glass cup. If only it were this easy in the waking world. 

Lemonade appears on the kitchen table in a glass pitcher and you pour yourself a cup, chugging down the citrusy-sweet drink with a smile. You sit for a while, not particularly thinking of anything, your job had you doing enough of that. The kitchen window was open and you could feel the summer wind and hear the leaves rustling and mourning doves cooing. It was a scene straight out of your childhood, and if you concentrated enough you could hear the lawn mower going in the distance, the smell of freshly cut grass invading the house. 

A bark interrupts your serenity and you look over to the farm dog. He’s patiently sitting by his food bowl with a wagging tail. A small box of dog food appears on a nearby shelf and you go to him with a smile. 

“Are you hungry, boy?” You ask and reach for the kibble. He barks back in return and watches you intently as you pour a small serving. You then thought to yourself that, well, this is a dream and can dogs get diabetes in dreams? Probably not, so you dump the rest of the kibble into his bowl. It piled higher and higher and you can see a satisfied glint in the dog’s eyes as it begins to chow down on its food. 

You wipe your hands off on your shorts and toss the empty box into some unknown void in the hallway and go back to the kitchen. This time, however, two glasses were accompanying the pitcher. One, the glass you just drank out of, and the other, a half-drunk glass of lemonade. The condensation of the cool drink was still on the glass and you could see a clear handprint of where someone had grabbed it. 

You look back at the dog and notice that he is missing and panic sets in again. You look outside the window and the sun disappears, clouds rolling in with a sheet of rain. The ground around you starts to become wet despite the intact roof and it floods over your feet. The water fills up the space quickly. 

You try to calm your breathing and will the water to go away, for the sun to come back, anything to have your hours of peace before you have to wake up. But, nothing worked and the water came over your hips, and you’re hyperventilating now. The rain comes in through the windows in large gushes of water and you find yourself stuck in place, unable to move. 

“Wake up, wake up!” You chant to yourself, tears beading along your lower lash line. You pinch at yourself and are exasperated when you still don’t wake. The water felt too real, it was cold and piercing and you could feel the twigs and leaves of debris that brushed against your legs now and then. “This isn’t funny, wake up!” You cry to yourself again as the water rises higher. 

Behind you, in the shadows, the Dream Lord watches with intent. He always had a fascination with lucid dreamers, after all, they were able to minorly manipulate dreams to their whim. Something that the Dream King wouldn’t admit hurt his ego a little bit… just a smudge. But he had been watching your dreams lately and found it fascinating that you never dreamed of anything grand. No mystical adventure, no aspirations, and certainly no dreams of a more… sexual nature. Which, if he was allowed to comment, may be the reason why you were so stressed in the waking world and needed to find peace in his instead. 

“This dream is over,” He commands and waves his hand over the scene. 

You wake with a start, the sweat you produced while sleeping made your shirt stick to you uncomfortably and reminded you of your dream. You’re quick to get rid of it and throw it into your laundry hamper, now topless and rushing to the bathroom for a cold shower to calm you down. When you were done, your weekend alarm still hadn’t gone off and you were tempted to go back to sleep again. 

Eventually, you decided against it, unless you wanted to repeat what just happened. Purposeful, dreamless sleep hasn’t found you in a long time and you doubt it would come back just on a whim. You watch the sunrise in your apartment, sighing as sleep tugs at your body still. The cup of hot coffee in your hands felt more like decoration than anything useful as it didn’t give you the energy you craved. 

Thankfully you had nothing to do on your day off and you pat your past self on the back for going grocery shopping last night instead of making you do it today. You spend the rest of the day in bed, reading books on your Kindle and taking breaks by mindlessly scrolling through different forms of social media. Sleep tugs on your eyes but no matter how much you try to sleep, even a nap escapes you. 

The day goes by at a molasses-like pace, you don’t even remember eating. But once the sun has set and the stars made their debut, you happily resign as sleep overcomes you. The Kindle falls somewhere off your bed as you lose consciousness. When you come to your dreams, you’re greeted by a whale… in a tutu. 

Your laughter is hard to contain at the sight as you watched it dance on its fins to Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, part of your favorite ballet to watch when you were younger. It splashes some water on you and you use your hands to cover your face. It’s then that you remember to count your fingers.

“One, two, three, four, five,” All five fingers. What time was it? You repeat the ritual that has been so ingrained in your head and when you notice that you only have four fingers on your second count, you know then that you have control over the dream. 

“Thank you for your entertainment tonight, my friend,” You wave goodbye to it as the scenery changes around you. 

You’re back out in nature. A low-hanging tree greets you instead and a white and red checkered blanket is laid before it. The blanket had a mighty spread of slices of bread, jams, cheeses, meats, and tea. You make your way over and sit on the soft blanket, slowly picking the foods to taste. The atmosphere was perfect and the wind blew the smell of fresh water into your nose from the nearby pond. Ducks and geese honk at each other in greeting as they swim by. 

Deeper in the picnic basket was more food, but you found them in pairs. Two sandwiches, two teacups, and two dessert cakes. You quizzically stare at them as you hold the two sandwiches, one in each hand. You didn’t eat that much, did you?

“I see that you have started without me,” A voice comments. 

You jump in your skin at the sudden intrusion and look up. You see a man, dressed in casual black with an impressive coat. 

“Isn’t it a bit too warm to wear such a long coat?” You ask instead. 

You don’t protest when he sits next to you and hand him a sandwich instead. He places the wrapped food gently on the ground before taking off his jacket. 

“Better?” He asks as he goes to grab his sandwich again. 

“Hmm,” You only hum in agreement and start to unwrap your own. It’s a few minutes of silent chewing before you realize how weird this is. “Wait, who are you?” 

“No one you haven’t met before,” He answers vaguely. His sandwich was left untouched except for the bread which he threw at the ducks near the pond. 

You chew slowly as you try to digest his answer. He pours you a cup of tea which you drink freely from, murmuring a thanks as he hands you the fine china. The smell of vanilla and peaches invades your senses as you sip on the sweet tea. The favor takes you by surprise at how wonderfully it paired with the sandwich. By the end of the picnic, you have learned two things, your mystery man was great company, and that carbs made you comatose. 

“Oh, my god. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in one sitting,” You sigh happily as you lay down on the blanket. Your head hits the hard ground and an idea sparks in you. 

Once again you pinch your fingers together and then bring your hands together. You intertwine and loop the golden strings that emit from your movements, much like an old childhood game of yours, Cat’s Cradle, and produce a small pillow. 

You place the pillow down and give it a good smack before laying down again. The sun envelopes you in a kind warmth that makes you smile. You see dancing shadows behind your eyelids when you close them to enjoy the moment. 

You hear rustling beside you and turn your head towards the man lying down beside you. He really was quite beautiful, something more than a man, perhaps a deity. He is lost in thought, almost, as he thinks about your abilities, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

“You have a great side profile, you know?” You don’t know why you said that, but rarely in dreams do you know why anything happens. 

Your comment makes him chuckle, a sound that you wish to hear again. It was light-hearted and pure, something that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone who looked like him. You couldn’t help but laugh along, finding his happiness contagious. 

“Thank you,” He says when he is done laughing. 

When the giggles leave your body, you go back to relaxing and soon you doze off. The rest of the dream is peaceful and pure, no more nightmares to haunt you tonight. The Dream Lord looks at you fondly as the wind blows some of your hair astray, happy to assist you for once in his realm. As long as he is here, you won’t have to fight your demons on your own again. 

The next morning was the first time in a long time that you felt energized. The old coffee pot is nearly forgotten as you get ready to go on a morning walk, something you have done in a long while. Afterward, a shower, and then lunch with an old friend you haven’t seen in months. He had decided to drop by after his work allowed him to come into the city. 

You meet with Oliver at a local cafe and you order tea this time around, along with some soup and a side salad. The AC is on full blast as more and more people come into the small building. You were lucky to find Oliver already waiting for you at a small table by the large windows. He waves at you when you come close enough and then pushes his glasses back into place. 

“How have you been, Poppet?” He starts right off the bat with a smile, using the same nickname he’s been using since grade 3. That smile brings you back all the way to your younger days when you first met him as your new neighbor. 

You think briefly about possibly mentioning your horrid dreams to him but decide to skip it, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin the mood for today, not to mention the peaceful dream you had last night all but almost made you forget it in its entirety. 

“Oh, you know me, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” You joke with a self-deprecating laugh. Your comment makes you realize that you have to go to work the next day and deal with annoying clients all over again. “Same shit, different day,” You mutter in conclusion. 

Both of your foods arrive just in time for you to ignore the glare he sent your way. Instead, you find fascination in the soup you choose, the same soup you had for the past three years of your life. 

“What brings you into town?” You ask as you pick apart the complimentary bread. 

“Work, of course. Though I never thought it would bring me to this place.” He gestures to the city around him. 

Oliver works as a farm veterinarian so, rarely, does he come into a large city where each piece of green is covered in concrete or chewed gum. And, of course, there are no farm animals around. He goes on to talk about a conference that he was invited to, something to do with the fight on farm animal antibiotics. You only nod along as you ate your lunch, your talents lie elsewhere but don't want to seem rude. 

Only scraps of your meal are left when the two decide that it is time to depart ways. 

“How long are you staying in the city?” You ask outside the cafe. The weather was almost perfect today, save for the slightly chilling wind that came every now and then. 

“About a week.” Oliver puts on his jacket and then pushes his round glasses back in place. 

“A week, huh?” You thought out loud before a smile came to your face. “You should come by the exhibit later this week. My client is showcasing their art, and going together would be fun.” 

“I’ll be there.” Oliver takes the business card you hand him, the heavy paper turns from warm white to gray as the sun disappears behind some clouds. 

Rain begins to drizzle and splatter on the card. 

“Aw, man. What?” You complain and put your jacket over your head as the rain continues to fall. “There wasn’t a rain forecast today,” You grumble to yourself. 

The two of you step under the cafe awning, the thin fabric providing little protection. 

“Do you want to stay at my place until the rain lets up? It’s just a few blocks from here.” You offer. 

“Lead the way, Poppet,” Oliver says with a smile. 

You smile back as you hype yourself to run through the rain. Thank god you wore sensible shoes today. With a squeal, you run in the direction of your apartment. You hear Oliver laughing behind you as he follows closely behind. Your laughter and giggles continue when you two find the comfort of your apartment and quickly turn up the thermostat when you get inside. 

“Wow, you’ve decorated the place nicely,” Oliver whistles his approval. 

He kindly sets his dripping jacket on the coat rack before you do the same and thank him. He shakes his head, much like a dog, you mused, to get rid of the water as his hair splays out from his actions. You, the more sensible one, simply wrung it out over the kitchen sink. 

“Yeah, if work can’t destress me why should my own home be?” You nodded along. 

The storm had raged harder ever since you got inside, the rain pelting on the window. If you didn’t have company over, you would’ve tossed all chores to the side and huddled up for a nap. Sleeping has been wonderful ever since you figured out lucid dreaming. 

“Poppet, you got a remote for this giant T.V, or what?” Oliver says as he pokes his hands between couch cushions. 

“Erm, yeah, somewhere on the T.V. stand.” Your comment was absent minded as you poke around in your small pantry for some snacks. 

Your eyes lock on packets of hot chocolate you didn’t know you had and what could be more perfect than a rainy day and hot chocolate with a friend? You squint at the box, looking for the expiration date. When you find it, and see that it’s been expired since last christmas, you pretend you don’t. 

There’s probably enough preservative to make the powdered drink last until the end of days, right? Plus who is throwing out food like this? In this economy? You scoff to yourself. 

“Want hot chocolate?” You ask, peeking at Oliver’s form in the living room. 

He stands in front of the T.V., hip slightly popped out to support himself with a hand on his hip and the other on the remote. The news comes on instead of your usual menu of different streaming services and a confused look takes over Oliver’s face when he turns around. 

“No, not that remote, the other one,” You laughed and went ahead to the fridge to warm up some milk anyway. 

“Which remote, you have, like, 13 for no reason!” He cries out exasperated but goes to the stand to find the correct remote.

The news continues to play and with nothing better to do, you listen in while you wait for your milk to warm up. 

“There has been a recent murder here in our lovely city and we encourage citizens to remain vigilant. The killer has not yet been caught and there is no pattern as to what kind of victims they take.” The news anchor speaks. 

“Oh, shit.” Oliver stops his search as he, too, starts listening in to the news. 

“Welcome to the city, I guess,” You shrug with a defeated sigh. The milk starts to shimmer before you turn off the stove. 

“Still, you should stay safe,” Oliver comments as he finally finds the correct remote, turning in to a streaming service and picking a light hearted movie. You’re mixing the chocolate powder, spoon clinking against the non-matching mugs, and when you don’t answer right away, Oliver presses again. “You will be safe, right?”

“Yes, mom,” You sarcastically groan. “I’ll be safe.”

“That’s my Poppet,” He chides, some of his accent slipping through, and sits down. He opens an arm for you to sit next to him before you hand him the hot chocolate that you made. 

“Careful, it’s ho-”

“JESUS!” Oliver exclaims as his face flies away from the mug. His shocked face makes your own burst out into laughter, so much so that you have to set down your mug so that you don’t spill it all over yourself. 

“Are you laughing at my pain?” Oliver jokes and pokes your sides.

The ticklish action only makes you laugh harder, if that was at all possible. Seeing your reaction, Oliver goes to poke you again, and you defend weakly as your laughing makes you all but weak. 

“Sto-stop, you’re going to make me pee,” You choke out between fits of giggles. Your hands were clenched to your sides as a last ditch effort to conceal your weak points. Your cheeks were starting to hurt and your smile was so wide that you couldn’t even open your eyes anymore. You were simply at the mercy of feeling true happiness.

Oliver eventually stops and the T.V. goes into a mandatory ad break (I mean, you’re not going to pay for no ads after already paying for the streaming service, let’s be real). Your energy is sapped out of you and you deflate into the couch with a satisfied sigh. 

“That was the first time tonight I heard you laugh that hard. Has the city been that mean to you?” Oliver asks, now cautiously sipping his drink. 

“The city is not mean, it’s just different than home,” You reply with a roll of your eyes. “I wouldn’t change it for anything though.”

Oliver hums in response, whipped cream stuck on his upper lips. You could tell he wanted to say more but decided to keep quiet instead. Eventually, the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar silence as you watched the rest of the movie. 

You ended up crying at a particular scene and Oliver, same old Oliver, poked at you again to try and get you laughing. The rain still hasn't stopped and you’re glad to live on a higher floor of the apartment complex or else you would’ve had to worry about potential flooding. 

At the end of the day, you ended up cooking dinner for the two of you as well, convincing Oliver to stay and have a warm meal before going home alone. Especially considering the news about the killer on the loose. You’re on your third movie when the two of you finally finish your late dinner and you fall asleep on the couch against Oliver’s much warmer body. 

The body underneath you shifts and your eyes snap open. 

“Sorry, Oliver, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” You apologize before you’re completely awake. 

“It is nothing of note,” Someone else’s voice responds instead. 

You rub your eyes and take a closer look at him and are surprisingly greeted by your mystery man. He wears the same clothes as the last time you met, only this time it’s warranted as you feel the chilling wind brush against your prickling skin. Unconsciously you crawl closer to him again and he wraps a protective arm around your body. 

Looking around at your surroundings you notice that the two of you were huddled amongst the clouds. Stars and nebulas dance around the two of you in sparkling wonder. When you reach out your hand to touch a star and find it surprising when you are greeted with a cold feeling. Your hand snaps back quickly and you tuck it under your arms to quickly warm up. 

“Guess I’m dreaming again,” You comment nonchalantly and lean back. The clouds seem to know where to stop and you’re lying comfortably by the man’s side again. 

“Ever the perceptive one,” He responds back. 

“I didn’t know I could dream of something this… spectacular,” You think to yourself, taking the risk to rest your head on his shoulders. Besides momentarily stiffening under your touch, he doesn’t move away, something you took as a good sign. 

“You did not, I did,” He says slowly. 

“Hmm, it’s nice, thank you.” You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth. 

Besides you, the Endless smiles to himself at your compliment. To him, it was nothing more than the wave of his hand to gift you this dream. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he hasn’t been waiting for you to cross over to the Dreaming since your last dream. His fascination for your abilities grows stronger yet. 

Yet, he has created a beautiful enough dream that you didn’t find the need to change anything, something he takes pride in. Your waking world has left you tired and weary, and he is here to provide. A tugging sensation pulls at him and he remembers why he is here. 

“My Dreamweaver, I have something to tell you. You must listen carefully.” His words were calculated when he spoke. “You are in danger, be cautious.”

“What?” 

“This dream is over.”

You wake up in your bed with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. When you roll over to look at the glowing digital clock, it reads 3:00 AM. With a groan, you leave your warm bed to tread the treacherous cold apartment for a glass of water. 

You fill up a small cup with some water and notice that by your sink is a small note, scribbled in red crayon. Your tired eyebrows shoot up at the note and grimace at the atrocious handwriting that was undoubtedly Oliver’s.

“Poppet, I can’t find your pens but I found this crayon by the TV remotes Don’t worry I called a cab I won’t get murdered tonight cause I’m vigilant unlike some people Mwah, Oliver” 

That night, your mystery man didn’t visit you again. He only leaves his vague message that echoes in the empty chambers of your heads. You’re plagued with dreams of drowning and despite all you can do to take control of the nightmare, there is nothing you can do but subject yourself to the violent, crashing waves. To constantly inhale gallons of gallons of salty water, to feel your muscles tired out, to feel yourself lose control. 

Your only salvation throughout the week was seeing Oliver again at the art exhibit. The murders haven’t stopped and it’s gotten enough traction for everyone in the office to talk about it, too. Yet, you could turn to your dreams instead to find relief. 

The man clad in black follows you still into your dreams, any mention of his message is quickly shut down or ignored completely. At the end of the day, you don’t mind, his company is more than enough to make your dreams sweet. He accompanies you through wildflower fields and stardust skies, he brushes your hair by the seashore and tells you the myths of old. Each day is a new dream and brings forth a reason to keep going. 

“A few nights ago,” He starts as he watches you gently touch the petals of a flower made of snow and glass. You turn to him expectantly and urge him to continue silently. “You did not call for me when you were having that nightmare.”

It takes a few moments for you to realize he was talking about your drowning nightmare. The one you so “wonderfully” had after an amazing time in the swirling cosmos. You begin to walk again, your shoes making no noise against the cold snow. The man follows beside you, face tilted towards yours in anticipation. His question had been burning at the back of his mind since it happened and he held on, barely, for the answer. 

“You can’t really scream when you’re drowning.” Your lousy excuse comes out and even you flinch at the words. 

You don’t dare to look at him, knowing the disappointed look he was surely giving you. Everyone knows that anything is possible when you dream, even more when you can lucid dream. After a very pregnant pause you give you real reason. 

“I don’t know your name, how would I call out for you, my sweet mystery man.”

It’s now that he stops walking and after a few steps, you too pause and turn to look at him. In the cold mountains of your dream, the snow is stark in contrast to his ebony form. It is here that you recognize how different he was, like the snow pulls away from any distractions and you look at him, really look at him. The facade of just a man falls away, and within, you see a being beyond your comprehension, held together by sheer will. You were right, he was more than mortal, more than a god, something more in every sense. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” He says, voice slow, calculated and raspy as he closes the gap between the two of you. “I am the very dream you are in, the voice inside your head, the person you think you’ve met before while walking the street.”

You’re very aware of how close he was to you now, to see the precipitation of his breath, and the way his eyes are never truly one color. His form keeps the winter chill away from your body, warming the very spot you stood in where snow turns into sunlight and the ground beneath you turns to soft valley grass and wildflowers made of toffee candy and sour rope candy. 

“Would you really have come if I called for you?” You ask timidly, head turned down and away from his gaze. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You say with a smile, cheeks crinkling your eyes as you look at him again. All Dream could think about was making a sun that shines as brightly as you. 

Your dreams seem to start leaping out into your waking life as the words of the Endless follow you. Every now and then you would notice a flurry of black and alabaster skin in the peripheral of your vision, but when you go to look it’s nothing but a chair, or a stack of books. His familiar face haunts you when you space out on the bus ride home, or when you’re simply walking down the street and someone bumps into you that just barely looks like him.

Each time you shake your head no, it was impossible, he was only a dream. 

The night before the exhibit, Oliver gives you a text message that explains that he would need to be picked up from another location. A client had called him for an at-home euthanasia early in the morning right before the exhibit. You agreed and were sent an address. You brush your teeth and wash your face before turning into bed, sleep coming easily. 

Your dream starts, as always, with you counting your fingers. Then you look at your watch, and then you count your fingers again. Your clock had 5 hands instead of two and with control over the dream, you find yourself standing in an Asian inspired pergola surrounded by water for miles around. The only sounds that accompany you are the sound of the sloshing water and the wind’s percussion between the mountain cracks. 

You sit on the wooden flooring, cooled by the water, and inhale the scent of fresh water. You bring your fingers together, just like always, and watch as the golden strings move with your movement, producing a pouch of fish food. Large koi fish swim beneath you and you run a finger across the water’s surface and watch with a small smile as they chase your fingers as you sprinkle some of the golden kibble along the water's surface. A koi leaps up and bites your finger and the sharp pain flings your arm away from the water. 

“Ow, what the hell?” You frown and look at your finger, the pouch dispersing into gold dust. Pressing into the digit allows blood to leak from the wound. You don’t have time to think about it when your alarm blares at you and you wake. 

Your day starts in a rush, slamming your hand over the off button of the alarm clock. You skiddy your way into your bathroom, brushing your teeth, combing your hair and doing your makeup. Your outfit was ready on the door of your bedroom. The casual formal wear was perfect for the day ahead. Comfortable but respectable and easily spotted if someone were to come looking for you. 

You look at your watch before briskly walking out the door, a few minutes ahead of schedule and traffic. When you arrive at the house Oliver had told you to, you stand outside the door as you hear murmuring from inside the door. You remember why Oliver was here in the first place and slowly lean against the wall to wait for him. 

“He was the most perfect dog, he was loved, he was cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease his suffering so he may continue to run in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s voice carries through the thin wall. 

Sobbing follows after and hushes of comfort as the dog passes in the arms of the owner. Uncomfortable that you were involuntarily eavesdropping in such a private conversation you start to play with your hands, picking at the nails and the cuticles around them. It’s now that you see, with a quickening heartbeat, a closed over wound on your finger. When you run your thumb over it, the pain long since subdued, you are reminded of a feisty koi bite from a certain dream. 

Was it real then? The dream, or merely the pain?

“Ah, Poppet, you’re here already,” Oliver’s whisper pulls you out of your thoughts slowly. “Is your finger hurt?” He notices and reaches for your hand.

“No,” You say quickly, perhaps too quickly, and move your hands away. “It’s just a scratch. Shall we go?” You turn before you give him a chance to answer. 

The exhibit, while productive, was blanketed over by a feeling of grief and melancholy. Your artist was soaking in the praises of success, but you find yourself sticking by Oliver’s side, drinking mimosas hoping the little alcohol could erase the uneasiness in your throat. Your finger gives phantom pains now and then, reminding you of the breaking cracks between dreams and real life. 

It’s only noon and you’re exhausted, giving the keys to Oliver to drive you back to your place. As if to taunt you even more, the elevator was down for repairs and so arm in arm, you and Oliver make your way up the seven sets of stairs until you reach your own apartment. 

“Oh my God, I can taste blood,” You whine, leaning all of your weight onto Oliver by the fifth floor. He, on the other hand, could not have looked more pristine. 

“When was the last time you exercised?” He chuckles as he lets you rest for a moment. 

You groan as your hand grasps onto the worn metal railing. “I briskly walked to my car this morning,” Your voice is gravelly and hoarse as you use your arm to continue upwards. “After the elevator ride down to the main floor.”

“Good grief, woman,” He jests. “We need to get you to the gym.” 

“Over my dead body,” You huff as you make your way again, steps heavy and stomping, the sound echoing in the empty chamber. 

The barren of your door gave you the last bit of energy to finish. The sight of your couch was enough for you to flop onto it and simply wish to perish. You’re breathing heavily out of your mouth, face to the ceiling and bounce when Oliver sits down next to you with exaggeration. 

“Don’t be dramatic,” Oliver teases, barely winded by the seven flights of stairs. You on the other hand felt like you had just come from a week at sea with nothing but a row boat and canned crackers. 

“I’m going to go shower, do you want to stay for lunch?” You ask, already halfway to your room after you caught your breath. 

“No, I’ve got my own thing to do, packing mostly.” You hear Oliver’s voice from the bathroom. You turn on the water to let it warm up and peek out of your bedroom. “Alright, I’ll see you off in a few days, yeah?” 

Oliver’s outside your door and the sudden proximity makes you jump in your skin. 

“Geez, you scared me. I thought you were still in the kitchen,” You say behind a small laugh. 

“I’m going to head out, alright? But yeah, let’s meet one more time before I leave later this week.” Oliver smiles and pokes your forehead. 

“Sounds good,” You agree, staring at the finger. 

“Stay safe out there, Poppet.” He waves and goes for the door. “I’ve got a cab waiting for me downstairs.”

You use the shower to cleanse yourself of not only the physical properties of today, and more importantly the sweat you accumulated walking up the steps, but also the more emotional toil. The warm water seemingly soaking up all of your depressive thoughts. It runs down the water and out the drain, and you feel lighter when you step out. 

You’re drying your hair with your towel when you see the brown square that is Oliver’s wallet sitting on your couch - opening it and seeing his ID card clarifies it. You groan as you know that he can’t get anywhere without his wallet, especially if he wants to leave. 

An internal debate was settled with going to his place before you pick something up for dinner. You place the wallet by your keys near the front door and make yourself some lunch, and put some much needed laundry into the washer while it cooks. You watch a small episode while you eat before returning to your work laptop and answering emails. 

The day goes by quickly and the rumbling of your stomach tells you that it’s time for dinner and more importantly, returning Oliver’s wallet. You redress in the same clothes you wore earlier that day, deciding to just deal with the high heels as any other shoe wouldn’t tie in well with your outfit, and you were not going to go out looking anything less than put together. 

How lucky you were when you walked down the hall to find the elevator back in operation. Down, down you went, seven flights of stairs to the parking garage. The echoing beep of your car tells you where Oliver had parked for you and you climb in. 

Traffic was a pain in the ass and you couldn't take another slow minute during dinner rush. Beeps and honks accompany you all the way to Oliver’s home and it takes a solid 45 minutes to travel 10 miles. You knock on Oliver’s door and you don’t know why but you’re nervous. There wasn’t an answer and you knocked again. Nothing. The door is unlocked and with a shrug to yourself you enter. 

All of the lights were turned off when you entered, fumbling about to turn on the lobby light near the door. The rented home was much bigger than your medium apartment and you seriously start to regret your career choice. 

“Oliver?” You call out, taking off your shoes and putting them aside. 

No answer.

“Ollieeee…” You sing out as you make your way further into the house. You drop the wallet on the dining room table and still nothing. You knew he was here, somewhere, the rental car he had was still in the driveway when you pulled up.

You bring out your phone, about to call him, when a small noise directs you to a staircase that leads downstairs and you make your way into the finished basement. When you open the door, something you never thought you would see greets you instead. Yes, Oliver was there but so was another woman. She’s tied down to a wooden table and you think you’re interrupting something if it wasn’t for the way her teary eyes snap towards you. Despair is washed out with a small glint of hope as her trembling hand reaches for you. 

“Help me,” She pleads. 

Oliver calls your name, almost breathlessly, and walks closer to you. In his hand holds a small knife, blood already smeared on the glinting metal. He greets you with a smile, but your attention is on the woman on the table. 

“Please.” She sobs again. 

You’re numb, on the brink of hyperventilation, and you’re sure that if you had gotten dinner before coming here you would’ve thrown up all over the vinyl flooring. 

“Oliver,” You gulp down as you take a step back.

He advances with another step, knife still in hand as the blood drips down onto the floor. He approaches you like a predator to scared prey, and he wouldn’t be wrong. His weaponless hand wraps around your wrist, warm and alive just like all of the other times he has done since you became friends all those years ago. 

“Come here.” He guides you closer. “This is our guest, Poppet.” He introduces. 

The woman squirms against her restraints and cusses. “Stop calling me Poppet, my name is fucking Alora, let me go!”

Oliver guides you closer and then slinks behind you, using his body to trap you from the exit. From this distance you can see the cuts and bruises Alora endured and you lean away in denial. Bile crawls up from the bottom of your throat begging to be released, it’s acidity painful to swallow. Alora’s tear stains seem permanent as another one follows its path as she watches the two of you lean over her. 

“Let.. let her go,” You say with a shaky breath. It’s the opposite of assertive, the opposite of a demand.

Oliver sighs behind you and slams the blade down on the table and both you and Alora flinch at the sudden noise. He laughs behind you, the breath tickling the nape of your neck. 

“I thought we could… share her,” He responds. You feel his lips on the junction of your neck and your body trembles again. 

“Share… her,” You echo.

This wasn’t real, there was no way this was real. No, you were definitely dreaming, Oliver took you home and then after your shower you fell asleep. He never left his wallet at your place. Oliver heals, he would never… 

You look down at your fingers, they’re shaking but still countable. One, two, three, four, five. You look at your watch, and with dread you notice that everything is in its place. One, two, three, four, five. It’s still the right time. One, two, three, four, five. 

“A dream, this has to be a dream. A nightmare.” You lie to yourself. Your thumb presses into each of your fingers and to your dismay, there are still five. 

You look down at Alora again, her eyes wide and begging and her fingers go to grab at you. 

“Ah, ah, none of that.” Oliver notices and pushes her fingers away from the two of you. 

His attention turns back to you again. “What do you think of it?” He asks, his hands resting on your hips and to your further disgust inhales your scent. 

“What do I think of it?” You echo again except this time it was more harsh, judgemental as it should be. 

Oliver scoffs and leaves your side. He walks to the other side of the table, knife back in hand as he points it to Alora’s face. 

“Look at Poppet here, notice anything?”

That’s when you look at her, really look at her. At first you didn’t see it, or maybe your mind was simply trying to prevent you from seeing it, but under Oliver’s scrutinizing gaze you notice with teary eyes. Her hair was the same color as yours, so were her eyes, they even mimicked the way yours were shaped. Her lips curled just like yours as they’re upturned in agony. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” You gag, your hand flies to cover your mouth as you dry heave. 

“No, don’t be, my sweet Poppet,” Oliver comes to you again and holds your face steady. His eyes have always been like they are now, caring, soft, non-dangerous, but seeing his actions made you doubt everything. “Here, you can watch for the first time instead, how about that?”

“Wh-what?” You gape and he pulls away from you. He places the knife over Alora’s throat and her sobbing and pleas grow louder. 

“NO!” You scream and go to reach for the knife, unsure where the sudden bravery comes from. But, it’s too late, he slices, you feel the way his muscle moves under your palm, how it grips the blade, how it ticks when it kills.

The blood sprays and decorates you in its red and sticky liquid and you’re left stunned. Beneath you, you hear as Alora chokes on her own blood as her body trashes as a last ditch effort of escape. Oliver looks at you with a smile, his white shirt decorated just like yours. He looks at you with adoration and something like pride as he places the knife down and comes to you again. 

“You look even more beautiful in red, Poppet,” He compliments, but it falls on deaf ears. His lips press to yours in a one sided kiss and you weakly push back. “Let me clean everything up and then I’ll take care of you, okay?”

You stand still as you watch him, rag in hand as he begins to clean. 

“You were the most perfect person, you were loved, you were cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease your suffering so you may continue to live free in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s familiar eulogy snaps you out of your shock, if not for a brief moment. 

It’s enough for you to run out the door, adrenaline blazes down your spine and pumps to all of your limbs. The door almost flies off its hinges as you open it into the dark night. You don’t know where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here. 

“Poppet! Wait!” Oliver screams behind you and he’s fast to catch you. 

Your bare feet scrap across the concrete sidewalk as your vision blurs with salty tears. You trip into an alleyway and sob, your pristine clothes now covered in dirt and blood, and you hear the crack of your watch as it breaks under the fall. At the edges of your mind, a small girl with wild and colorful hair peeks at you in fishnets, the world warps, distorting the difference between reality and delirium. 

A moment of clarity comes to you as you remember something. It tries to fall between the crevices of your mind but you grab onto it and hold it close. 

“Would you really have come if I called for you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Dream,” You cry out into the darkness. Oliver finds you on the ground and his arms pick you up. “No, no, let go of me!” 

The man clad in black doesn’t show his face and you beat yourself over it, because of course he doesn’t. It was just a dream. This is reality. Despite it all, you try one more time. A name falls on your tongue, one you didn’t previously know. 

“Morpheus!” You scream and the calling echoes in the suburban neighborhood. 

Oliver pays you no mind and hoists you onto his shoulders. You’re pounding at his back but his muscles never falter. He walks back with heaving breaths to his house when he is suddenly stopped and drops you. You unceremoniously roll and then sit quickly to run away again. You’re stopped short at the sight. 

In front of Oliver stands a man, his form fuzzy at the sides and blends in to the night around them. He wears a helm made of bones, accompanied by a bright ruby necklace, and a leather pouch of sand. 

“Dream?” You question and his gaze turns to you. You can’t see his eyes past the large bug-like design of the helm, but you know he sees you. 

“Who the hell are you?” Oliver sneers at him.

Dream doesn’t reply and instead he shrinks back into the shadows and wisps around until he stands in front of you. You hide behind his back as he protects you from Oliver. 

“Hey, get away from my Poppet.” Oliver takes a step forward but is stopped by Dream’s words. 

“Be quiet,” He commands. It’s two words, but it renders him speechless. “I turn you into prey. Your judgment upon you is to be hunted. Even after you wish for death, you will form into another and be hunted again. This is my gift to you, Oliver Barlowe, make good use of it.”

The curse is etched in stone as he speaks. He pours from his leather pouch and sand falls between his fingers. He curls then unfurls them before blowing the particles into Oliver’s face. You watch with horror as his form shrinks under the swirling sand and he turns into a shrew. He runs into the grass, his brown fur lost amongst the foliage. 

“Hello, my Dreamweaver,” He whispers and crouches to your height on the cold concrete. He extends a patient hand and you grab hold. “Come, nightmares shall hunt you no further.” 

“You came,” You say, still in disbelief as he helps you stand. 

“I kept my promise. I do not break such vows, ever.” His fingers gently wipe away the tears from your face. 

"You're real," You whisper, still not believing that he stands before you.

His fingers trace across your bottom lip as he comes closer to you still. Dream doesn't say anything, he simply soaks in your presence, drawn to you in a way neither of you could comprehend. His fingers still trace your face, running over your nose and the apple of your cheekbones.

You feel the swirling of sand around your feet and the world changes around you. You’re in the meadows again, surrounded by flowers made of snow and glass, and you see the cabin your grandfather built. Dream sits you down on a white and red checkered picnic blanket with two glasses of lemonade. 

“Will you stay?” You ask as you grab the cool glass cup of lemonade. Your gaze turns to the sweet yellow drink and you rub the smooth glass as a way of calming yourself. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You smile. 

Alsooooo, very inappropriate use of being a veterinarian, we don't kill people and we don't make that much money, sigh

My Sandman comics came and they're so heavy... Second also, Comic Dream is such a mood

Maybe a more lighthearted fic for next time, hmm?

♡ Yours, Layla

[sabokunsmalia]

anon's request: Hiii. I feel like w the amount of times I drop I should sign off w an emoji lololl. But anyway I wanted to drop in and say that I hope you’re having a good week and leave a lil request for you. If you could write a fluff w ace or sabo where like they wake up early in the morning and are looking at the reader and reminiscing about their relationship. It kinda hits them that they’re in love and wouldn’t change a thing. Again hope you’re having a good day/week 🤗 hi it's malia: i couldn't decide, both are heavily underrated so doing both was the best decision. i even added luffy because this felt like a beautiful asl brother thing to do, lol. please, take yourself an emoji of the endless list, i would be pretty happy and probably crying happy tears if you were my very first anon. ♥

featuring: flame emperor sabo, portgas d. ace, monkey d. luffy

ʚ flame emperor sabo ɞ

↷ the bright rays of the golden sun forced sabo to wake up from his slumber, totally against his will. he just came back from a three-week mission yesterday, and couldn't wait to spend at least two days by your side without interference. his soft fingertips, protected from the roughness of his mission by the thick leather gloves, caressed the skin along your spine. you were still heavily asleep, face pressed against his naked chest, your warm breath fanning across his skin. you looked beautiful, so peaceful, so different from what kind of moments and things sabo has seen in the past weeks. or better, his entire life since dragon pulled him out of the water. sabo wanted to become the perfect chief of staff, training and working harder than anybody else to keep his position, to make his savior proud. hell, most of his actions were way too risky to be acceptable. but the nobleborn man did not care about his own life as long as the revolutionary army could change the slightest thing in the world, he would be satisfied. until you popped up, your presence stepped in his sight and scolded him for being so careless about his own life.

↷ that night, sabo had to ask you out on a date. he didn’t have much time but he would definitely give you the couple of hours he had off. the sun rays cascaded hues of gold across your unblemished skin the day he took you to a fancy restaurant — confronted with the same image right now, sabo could not stop the trail of memories embedded in his mind. you infiltrated any given space, intoxicated him, and lured him into a paradise. like a siren but with love and a happy ending to it. your body jerked away from his touch ever so slightly when his fingertips grazed over and around your hipbone. a silenced chuckle left his mouth, remembering exactly the night you slept in his room and bed for the first time. oh, your trembling body made it difficult to cuddle properly, the sudden waves of anxiety always pulling you away from sabo's touch and warmth. the little things, he remembered so clearly as if they happened yesterday. the amount of times, he wanted to confess his love but couldn't find the courage to speak his mind. it happened way too often, the small glances you shared across the room, the several ways koala tried to set you two up. god, the poor girl was completely exhausted from dealing with the shyness of two people when it came to adoring someone.

↷ sabo had the slight hope of finding a lover on an island far away. he would not be able to spend much time with them, but it would be worth it to know they are safe. the world nobles and the marine's were a strong enemy, attempting to find the revolutionary army and stop their movement. but when the chief of staff's eyes landed on you, he couldn't stop his heart from beating faster, his head from imagining having you by his side and certainly not himself from falling in love with you utterly fast. his eyes anchored on your sweet face, so calm and relaxed while sleeping, as the memories of the past weeks and months sprawled out in the back of his head. pictures of moments, he would never forget, or dare himself to change. your story together was perfect, and while it was dangerous to share romantic feelings with someone in the same position, sabo would never change the slightest thing.

ʚ monkey d. luffy ɞ

↷ as the captain of a wanted pirate crew, luffy had very few moments to rest and calm down from the constant fights. but when he got the chance to stay in bed longer than usual, the straw hat had his arms wrapped up tightly around your body. you sprawled out on top of him, one leg on each side. cheek pressed against his toned, naked chest while inhaling and exhaling deep breaths. you always begged him to calm down once in a while, and rest from the fighting and the punches, but luffy was very bad at listening. for almost two years, you asked and he denied it with a chuckle and no words. one of his hands reached up, the calloused fingertips which became rougher over the course of time brushed the thin strands of hair out of your face. the corners of your mouth lifted slightly, almost invisible, as you exhaled a deep breath. even in your sleep, you bathed in the softness of luffy's touch. certain little things, luffy picked up over the course of your relationship.

↷ no one around luffy thought he was capable of feeling love for anything else than his occupancy as a pirate. but when the straw hats visited your island, and luffy shared a look with you, it was certain that the boy fell head over heels for your precious self. throughout the events of the past months, you gave luffy enough strength to fight further and stronger. even after losing ace, you were his glimpse of hope. a smile crept its way onto luffy's mouth, remembering the nights, you stayed on deck with him. falling asleep in his arms while watching the wide ocean sway around the thousand sunny. the days, you brought him food when he didn't join the crew for dinner. something which didn't happen before, he would never let a meal get wasted. memories, he carried with him like pictures on a wall. framed with golden ornaments and attached to his heart. moments, luffy used as a reminder to always keep fighting, to stay strong in the worst fights.

↷ his dilated pupils were locked on your statue on him, so small, so beautiful and so admirable. his slender and warm fingers combed through the mess of hair, adoring the way you made him feel safe between the enemies that wanted his head. luffy could agree to many alliances, could laugh at way too many people, yet, most of them wanted to murder the straw hat behind his back. the million little things you've done for him, no matter if the days were good or bad, they pulled luffy deeper into your spell. he fell harder for you with each given day, and while becoming the king of the pirates was his priority task, you quickly changed the placement. the straw hat did not except to experiment love on his journey to the one piece, and yet, luffy would not trade this life for anything else, he would never change any step of your love story and relationship together.

ʚ portgas d. ace ɞ

↷ there was not one calm night on the moby dick since the commanders gathered for an arranged party. music boomed across the deck of the main ship, and spread across the vast ocean. colorful lights, red and blue cascaded through the darkness and announced the ship to any other pirate crews or marine admirals. those feasts were ace's greatest pleasure. he loved drinking booze and eating meals until passing out. but those past days, it was somehow different. seated in the corner, the glass tightly in one of his hands, ace watched his friends and family interact with you. dancing around with marco, and having long conversations with pops or thatch. the night was a long one again, the third in a row and it was no surprise the next morning when you were still asleep. cuddled up in ace's arms while pressing your back further against his naked chest. warmth spread underneath the thick blanket but also from ace's logia devil fruit powers. a walking heater, who watched closely how your chest rose while you inhaled and exhaled.

↷ the second division commander felt the tingling in his right arm, knowing that a couple more minutes could increase the slight pain. but he wouldn't dare himself to wake you up from a much-needed nap. after dancing way too many hours with marco, and even being forced to dance another round with ace by your side, your legs were hurting badly. his unoccupied hand wandered from your hipbone towards your thick thigh. smirking to himself as you carefully pushed yourself further against his body, ace massaged your unblemished and soft skin. he didn't think about taking advantage or doing anything sexual, the shaggy black-haired decided to give you something back. he remembered clearly how many times you decided to massage his tense shoulders and back when he returned from another long mission. standing on the small boat which only worked with his particular devil fruit powers didn't allow him much of a comfortable position. days passed, sometimes even weeks or months while you waited for him and hoped for ace to return well.

↷ over the months of dating, ace reminded himself of the small things you have done for him. it always kept him alive and awake when needed, knowing that returning to you was his greatest desire. he wouldn't want to see your soft face stained by the tears from your eyes. this time, he promised to stay longer by your side, to decline leaving the ship so easily and quickly. his rough fingertips caressed along the skin of your thigh while his eyes drifted over the small statues on the shelf close to the bed. little gifts that ace brought along when he was on a mission far away. you occupied his mind, kept him awake and forced his nightly dreams to enter his days. being in a relationship as a pirate always caused problems, fearing for the well-being of you more than his own. and yet, ace wouldn't change a fact, wouldn't change any steps of the past that you shared together. each return to the moby dick came with new shivers, heavy goosebumps and a quick heartbeat. feelings, ace only got when your face popped into his mind, when you occupied his head.

[yoyomomiko]

BITE INTO ME

Pairings: Vampire!Feitan x F!reader

Summary: Feitan is usually under control, but ever since you joined the Phantom Troupe, he can't help but admire your blood each time it spills in battle. He simply wants a taste, always gazing at you with that look in his eyes that make your knees buckle. Just what happens when he catches you injured and vulnerable?

Warnings: BLOOD; wounds; slight gore (not really), MARKING; biting, CURSING, fighting, A BIT SUGGESTIVE but not really, Feitan's a little bitch, NOT PROOFREAD; might contain grammar mistakes, English is NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!!

(A/N): THIS WAS MY FAVOURITE FIC FROM MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL AND I WAS WAITING TO WRITE THIS FOR SOOO LONG!! It honestly came out really good and this took me so long to write, but it was all worth it! -> halloween m.list

"Shit!" The word tore out of your mouth as you crashed down onto the cold and hard concrete. The impact shot blinding pain through your knees, your palms scraped against the rough ground, gravel scratching your skin as you caught yourself, fingers trembling.

You forced yourself to look up, breath ragged as you focused on the man in front of you, your target. He stood tall, his smirk barely hidden by his bloodstained lips. You could feel your heartbeat increasing, thudding in your ears, the harsh sting in your legs reminding you that you miscalculated and let your guard down at the wrong second.

Your mission, assigned by Chrollo, felt heavier than ever. And failure... Well, that wasn't an option.

You were new to the Phantom Troupe, fresh blood among a league of killers more ruthless and skilled than you could hope to be yet. The others were more used to pain, masters at controlling their suffering, all while you still feel every sting, every break in your body with too much clarity.

Your hand pressed over a gash on your arm, the sticky warmth of blood spreading over your palm. Even with a small amount of light, the red caught Feitan's gaze instantly. He stood nearby, his eyes fixed on the crimson streak trailing down your arm, and for a moment, he didn't look like your ally anymore, barely holding himself back.

"Get up." He murmured, voice low and almost irritated, yet his gaze remained glued to the blood. Despite the pain in your body, you could feel a chill run down your spine that had nothing to do with the target.

He stepped closer, almost too close. You could feel his gaze on you as you forced yourself to your feet, your knees throbbing and your arm slick with fresh blood. Feitan's eyes hadn't moved from you as the sting of your injuries were slowly fading.

The target lunged toward you again, throwing a punch with enough force to send you crashing back. Feitan moved in a blur, his hand grabbing the man's wrist with bone-crushing strength. His eyes widened in panic as he struggled, but it was far too late. Feitan twisted the man's arm with a snap, the sound making you sick as the target screamed in agony, all while listening to Feitan's degrading words.

Feitan shoved the man to the floor, glancing back at you, his eyes proving he was enjoying every second of this, savoring the moment.

Fueled by pain and anger, you stepped forward, fists clenched. You needed to prove you could handle this. Ignoring the pulsing ache in your legs, you moved quickly, catching the target off guard as he tried to recover from his broken arm and Feitan's brutal grip.

You drove your heel into his stomach, knocking the air out of him as he gasped. Feitan glanced at you with something that almost looked like approval.

Feitan, however, was far from finished. He crouched down in front of the gasping man, pulling out his thin sword with an unsettling smile on his face.

The target stuttered, but before he could get a word out, Feitan slashed a clean line across his chest, a slow cut that made the man yell out due to the horrifying pain. Feitan glanced at you, as if inviting you to finish it.

Gathering your strength, you gave a nod, stepping forward and delivering the final strike, driving your weapon down as the target's body went limp.

It was over, no other sound other than the slow drip of blood on the concrete.

You exhaled, the ache of your injuries coming back. Feitan's gaze was still on you, and this time, it trailed from the blood smearing on your hand to your bloodstained clothes.

"Not bad. Did good." He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze, as if the battle wasn't quite over yet, at least not for him.

"Thanks..." You huffed out, chest heaving up and down as you struggled to control your breath. You noticed Feitan's fangs peeking from behind his lips as his head was raised up, finally showing his full face.

"Be careful." His tone went softer, but it felt more like a warning than advice, as if he's reminding himself to stay in control.

...

...

...

You could sense Feitan's gaze burning through you, watching you closely. Little did you know, his control seemed to falter each time he saw blood. To be more specific, your blood.

Lately, he's been making up excuses to stand closer to you, or get into a mission along with you. His eyes betray every struggle to maintain his restraint, to hold back his thirst for just a taste. He always creeps up behind you, staring at you with piercing eyes.

You were wondering if it's because he hated you.

But that was not the case, no, not at all.

You accidentally cut your finger by accident due to playing around with your weapon. It wasn't anything serious by all means, but it was enough to draw blood. You thought you were alone, until you felt a familiar presence behind you, a shadow towering over you.

"Do you need anything?" You asked in a hushed tone, gently licking the blood from your finger, just to ease the sting up a bit. That didn't go unnoticed by Feitan.

"Just wanted to check." He replied, seeming unbothered. Truth is, he wanted to leap forward and bite into your neck, just to taste your blood, wich only seemed to cloud his mind each passing second.

Feitan's curiosity about you clearly grew, and he can no longer disguise the fact that he's drawn to you not just as a fellow fighter, but something more primal. His stare feels more intense, his presence darker. You caught him staring at you countless times, eyeing you from bottom to top.

"Check what?" You asked, titling your head to the side. Feitan thought you were teasing him, somehow always ending up full of blood and panting. It was as if you wanted him to just lick away at your wounds.

"Your cut. Let me see." He answered, grabbing your wrist and inspecting the way red seeped out of your small wound over your finger.

He gently brushed his finger over your injury, but it was for sure an accident as he got some of the blood on his own fingertips.

Feitan released your hand, letting it fall down slowly as you stared up at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks each time you blinked, only provoking Feitan further.

He let out a silent groan, turning around and taking a quick glance at you, before exiting the room, leaving you dumbfounded.

What you didn't know, is that the moment Feitan was out of your sight, he began licking away the few drops of blood that smeared on his finger, the taste only feeding onto his desire and need for more.

...

...

...

You panted, pressing your hand over the harsh wound on your shoulder, sticky warm blood smearing everywhere. You were gravely injured, already completely vulnerable.

The rest of the Phantom Troupe were fighting against a rival gang, but the moment you got this badly wounded, you fled and found a hiding spot. You felt pathetic, as if you were betraying them by acting this weak, running away from battle.

One of the men from the rival gang got to you, the impact shooting a blinding pain through your whole arm. That sharp, jolting ache left you momentarily dazed, before you went into 'fight or flight' mode, and completely ran away.

Tears were threatening your eyes, not because of the burning agony you felt in your injuries, but because you were ashamed for what you've done.

Just then you heard footsteps, panic racing through your veins, your heartbeat increasing once more. You weren't sure if you were ready to fight, you were too vulnerable right now.

Feitan, shit, it was only Feitan.

Feitan had found you before the others, his eyes holding a dark edge to it. A glint that hinted he was savoring every second of watching you like this. You can feel the intensity of his struggle, the barely contained thirst as he kneels in front of you, one hand moving to steady you while the other traces a line close to your wound.

He hesitated, clenching his fists and trying to force them away from you, but he just couldn't.

"Just a taste?" He asked, voice low and hushed. It wasn't a question for your permission but of how much he can restrain himself.

You feel his cold fingers tilt your chin, his lips brushing dangerously close to your skin. His other hand hovered over your wound, his fingers ghosting across the torn fabric and the warmth of blood beneath.

His eyes flicked back to yours, enjoying your vulnerability, the quiet hitch in your breath as he leaned in closer. You swallowed, heart pounding as he watched you carefully, his lips tugging upwards in a dark and twisted smile, as if tormenting you.

He gripped your hand, the hand that you held over the bleeding gash in your shoulder. He took your hand off of where you were hiding your precious blood, gently placing it in your lap. The red slicked down your arm as you let out a hiss, the cold air hitting your open wound.

"Scared?" He asked, voice dropping to a whisper, taunting blended with something deeper, something dangerous.

Before you could answer, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing the edge of your wound, so light you almost couldn't feel it. You held your breath, a stinging feeling in your chest.

All of the sudden, he pressed his fangs down. A sharp, electric pain mixed with something you couldn't quite name as his mouth touched your skin, savoring that first taste of blood.

Your breath hitched, and for a split second, the world faded, every surrounding disappearing as it was just you and him. From the firm press of his hands, to the cold touch of his fingers against your jaw, and the strange warmth of his mouth tracing the wound with a hunger that made your pulse race.

He pulled away slightly, only to dig his sharp teeth into your exposed skin, making you bleed as he drew more blood, tasting you completely, smearing the crimson on your clean skin. You let out a groan as he left a mark, licking away at the seeping red.

It was like every instinct you had was screaming at you to pull away, to move, to protect yourself. But something in his gaze held you frozen.

He drew back slightly, his lips stained faintly red as he looked down at you. His fingers traced down your jawline, gently brushing over your pulse as if feeling the rapid beat there.

"Weak." He murmured, almost a mockery, yet his grip on you was steady, gentle and careful.

You wanted to snap back, to defend yourself, but the pain and the fear left you speechless. A part of you knew you should've been scared, should've wanted to push him away. But he could easily overpower you, his eyes flaming as he studied you like you were fragile, something to be toyed with.

"Next time..." He whispered, lips close to your ear.

"Don't hide." He warned, letting his words sink in. With that, he released you, leaving you to steady yourself as he rose to his feet, his gaze still holding that twisted satisfaction.

Without another word, he turned around and walked away, the faintest hint of your blood smeared on his lips as he disappeared back into the battle, leaving you shaking and breathless, unable to decide if what you felt was fear, or something else entirely.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[kichikichiko]

Hello! I hope you're having a good time,I would like to request Kazuha and scaramouche with a gender neutral reader Who almost died protecting them?

If you don't feel comfortable doing this, don't do it. Thank you so much!

Don't you dare leave me!

HELLO HI EVERYONE! HAPPY (BELATED) NEW YEARS! 😻😻😻🌟🌟🌟

I've had this request in my ask box for MONTHS and Ive planned to write it when I got it but ykkkk life happens.

Ty Anon for sending this in and sorry it took me this long to write your request 💔

Synopsis: How your partner would react to when you risk your life to save them.

Pairing: Kazuha x Gn! Reader and Scara x Gn! Reader

Cw: Semi proof-read, Fluff, headcanon, slight blood mention, cursing for Scara, Established relationship (Kazuha), kiss at the end (Scara)

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KAEDEHARA KAZUHA ¤ Scarlet leaves pursue wild waves

It was around the time the Raiden Shogun declared the vision hunting decree, and right after Kazuha's dear friend Tomo passed trying to withsand the musou no hitotachi.

You were away for training with your teacher. And as you walked home you heard of the commotion on the streets

"That guy died from the Shogun's strike" "what was he thinking?! He is obviously no match for the Shogun"

Hearing all of the whispers made you a little worried. And something told you that it was terrible news. What if that was someone you knew personally?

Assuring yourself that it's probably just some stupid samurai off the streets is what you did. Trying to block out all the whisperd and worries of the city folk.

Until you heard his name from a group of people talking about what just happened. "...Kaedehara...."

Your boyfriend who you haven't seen since this morning. You stopped on your tracks and turned around hoping you heard that wrong.

"What did you say?"

"Pardon?" The person asked.

"The name." You repeated "the name you mentioned before, what was it again?"

"Kaedehara. Kaedehara Kazuha?" The person said confused by your expression growing more and more distraught by the second

"What happened to him? Did he..." you couldnt even get yourself to finish that sentence. You didnt want to believe that HE was the one who challenged the Raiden Shogun

"No dont worry (miss/sir) it's not him who died. Its another guy, but Kaedehara was seen on the scene taking the dead vision and running off. From what I've heard he's running away right now"

Without wasting another second you booked it to the nearest port. You had no idea if he was going to be there as he escaped but it's worth the shot anyways.

Panting and gasping through the bamboo forest while thinking about the fate of your boyfriend isn't the best combination.

"What if he got caught?" "What if he already left?" "What if that stranger was mistaken?" The what if questions were not helping you at all.

So all you did was to hope. Hope that he is still alive, hope that he is still in Inazuma

Your legs were killing you and your lungs feel like they're about to explode if you don't stop running. But you can't

You need to see Kazuha.

As if the Archon's heard your prayers, all of a sudden you hear a guard shouting in a distance "Kaedehara Kazuha you're under arrest under the vision hunting decree!"

"It's him! He's still here!" Relieved he hasn't made it out of Inazuma yet, you started running even faster to the scene.

When you got there you saw Kazuha fighting a bunch of the Shogun's guards left and right. "Kazuha!" You shouted out in relief, as you drew out your katana (sword) and began helping him fight.

You bear no vision, but the adrenaline was pumping into your veins you didnt give a second thought and dove into the fight.

"(Name)??" Kazuha turned around to look at you for a split second. Honestly if it werent for the current condition youre both in, he'd hug you real tight

"How did you find me?" He asked before turning his head around and defend himself from the guards.

"I heard from the city folks hat you ran away after a man died from the musou no hitotachi" you responded, blocking a strike from another guard.

He made a mental note to explain to you the story after the fight is over.

Speaking of which, the fight lasted for quite sometime until all of the shogun's minions were down.

You turned around and hugged Kazuha, throwing your weapon onto the ground.

"I'm so glad youre safe Kaz" you burried your bead into his shoulder, still panting from all that fighting, adrenaline and running.

Kazuha was panting as well, hugging you tighter like never before and kissed your forehead softly "Me too (name), I'm so sorry I didn't come to you sooner and told you anything. Everything happened so fast, I had to leave before I got caught."

You pulled away from the hug and smiled at him softly, your breathing becoming more stable after a while "That's alright, I found you just in time-"

Something was moving behind Kazuha and you couldn't make it what it was until you could.

It was the Shogun's guard again, with a bow and arrow... aimed at Kazuha's back. Your heart dropped

before the guard should release the arrow you pushed Kazuha away and took the hit.

The arrow ended up piercing your shoulder which earned a shout from you. It hurted like hell and blood started flowing out of your shoulder by the minute.

At first you felt dizzy from the blood loss and then everything went dark. You were going in and out, Before you blacked out completely, the first time you saw Kazuha charging up to the guard and fought him. The next time you saw him picking you up bridal style

And the last thing you heard was " (name) Don't you dare leave me!"

♤

The first thing you saw when you woke up was a wooden ceiling above you. "Where am I?" You sat up and hissed from the pain on your shoulder. You took a look at thr soirce of the pain and to your surprise, the wounded area had been wrapped with a compression bandage.

Looking around at the area you realised you ended up on a ship. But how?

Before you could ask more questions, the door in front of you opened, and standing there was Kazuha. The man saw that you were awake and sped walk towards you.

"You're awake! Thank goodness. Don't worry everythings alright. We're on a ship of a pirate captain from Liyue and she got her crew to help stop the bleeding on your shoulder."

Ah, he basically just answered the questions that were popping up in your head. "Looks like we'll have to thank this pirate captain for her hospitality"

You looked at the current condition of your lover. His shoulders were tense and his lips forced into a small smile.

You could tell it was so that you wouldn't be alarmed. And you could tell he was still shaken up by the stunt you pulled earlier.

"I'm sorry my love, for scaring you like that." Placing your hand on his shoulder, then slowly making your way up to his cheek. "I'm safe, youre safe. That's all that matters."

You could see his eyes softening and his shoulders becoming less tense

"Youre right... youre right. You just got me worried back there. I was afraid I might lose you too." He whispered softly, cupping his hand over your hand.

Subconciously he gripped your hand hard enough to make you notice but not hard enough to hurt you.

He didn't have to elaborate any further for you to realise that his dear friend was the one who died.

"I won't leave you here alone dear. That's a promise." pulling him into a hug, which he reciprocated quickly

"What now?" Is a question you both will figure out later.

Right now, the only thing that matters is the two of you.

SCARAMOUCHE/ KUNIKUZUSHI ¤ The Balladeer

Being the Balladeer's assistant was no easy job

Literally.

Having to deal with his yelling, degration, mocks, (tantrums) and bad temper required patience. Lots of it

But no matter how many times he left you out in the snow to freeze, or mocked you in front of everyone, you stayed by him. Honestly no one understood how and why (and neither did Scara but he would never question it)

Partially because the pay is good (the harbingers decided to pay you extra because youre dealing with Scaramouche), partially because you don't get treated as half as bad as his subordinates and because sometimes he isn't so bad in general.

What I mean by "not so bad" is that sometimes, barely, but once in a blue moon. He shows that he cares and appreciates your help and loyalty.

When he was sent out on a mission to Inazuma, you couldn't come to help him due to unfortunate circumstances. He was pissed to say the least

surprisingly not at you but at the higher ups for not allowing you, his assistant to come

he brought you a souvenier from Inazuma. Nothing much and nothing grand, but it is something from your boss so you treasure it.

Another time you got sick with the flu, at first he was pissed (when is he not 💀🖕) but then at night, he came over to give you some soup

By the Balladeer's words it is to "Make you get better soon so you can work again. I can't manage all this shit by myself"

Which you translated it to "I miss your company and I need your help with my tasks"

Either way you appreciated his kindness.

♤

Scaramouche and you were sent out on a mission together to the chasm. Usually they wouldn't send the harbingers down there, but an important relic from an unknown lost civilization was found, and the fatui wants to study it.

As the 2 of you were down there, all you (other than trying to find the relic) did was listen to his occasional rants and curses to the other harbingers for sending him on this mission.

"Annoyed as always" you rolled your eyes.

When the relic was found and secured safely, the two of you nodded at each other as a sign that you both should head out as soon as possible

Luckily Scaramouche and you didn't run into any enemies which was....

"Strange" you mumbled to yourself, brows furrowed and eyeing the caves

"What is?" taking a glance behind to look at you as he was right in front of you

"It's just that we haven't bumped into any monsters or enemies during our time here." You started

"There's always enemies down here at the chasm"

Scaramouche shrugged at you "Maybe theyre taking a nice long nap, or maybe they know their place and not to mess with us." He was half sarcastic and half serious. Either way, he wasn't bothered by this at all

You nodded at him. Not necessarily because you agree with him

But mainly because you're quite unsettled about the whole situation to the point where you'd just hope he was right

Something must be wrong with the universe because not long after, a mob of hillichurls showed up

Scaramouche groaned, getting ready to fight "Great you jinxed it."

They were just a bunch of hillichurls so it really didn't take long for Scara to handle it while you guard the relic

"Let's just get out of here before I have to deal with those i-" before your boss could finish his sentence an abyss herald showed up

When it showed up, you drew out your weapon getting ready to fight. He was no easy foe and even if you knew Scara could handle it...

Something was telling you thing's were about to go south.

You and him started fighting the Abyss enemy

Scara with his electro powers and you with your (vision of choice)

"Hey (name) fuck off I can handle this myself you know?!" He shouted at you

"No you can't Scaramouche!" You retaliated, not listening to another word he says because you were getting more and more pissed by his antics "Just shut up and let me help!"

With the way you disobeyed his orders AND talk back at him got him taken aback and angry at you

"Why this little bitch!" He wanted to say

Scara just gave the abyss herald an opening to launch an attack at him

"Scara watch out!" Luckily you saw right on time and threw yourself in front of Scara to protect him

The attack was so bad you started coughing out blood from the impact. Everything started to become blurry and you lost your balance and strength, dropping your weapon in the process

Before you blacked out you heard Scara scream out something you couldn't quite make out and then... total darkness.

♤

"Don't you dare leave me here!" Echoed in your mind before you awoke in a bed in a strange place. This wasn't Snezhnaya and you know it.

"Where am I? And who said that sentence when I was asleep?" You asked yourself, slowly sitting up from the bed with a groan.

The door on your right opened and in came your boss

"Scara..!" You managed to say. Your voice came out soft and sort of like a wheeze. The impact of the attack seemed to affect your ability to talk as well

"Shh. Don't talk. The doctor said your vocal cord needs rest." Making his way to your bed, and sat by the edge

You closed your mouth but it was clear you had many questions. Scara frowed a little but started answering the questions he knows you'll anyways

"We're still in Liyue. I managed to carry you out of the chasm and the relic I handed off to some fatui members I saw on the way to the doctor.... and you've been out for 3 days now. I was..." he paused and looked away

"Starting to get worried." You didn't have to see his face to know that his expression softened.

Now it all makes sense, you now know what Scara said before you blacked out.

"Don't you dare leave me here!" It was also the sentence that echoed in your mind while you were asleep.

You knew long ago that the all so scary Balladeer had developed feelings for you. It was the little things he did for you that made you question but today, this whole incident made it clear to you that the 6th Fatui Harbinger harbours feelings for his assistant.

You did as well of course. Even though he was a pain in the ass sometimes, it feels as if no one understand you more than he does, and likewise.

Scooting closer to the harbinger, you brought your hand up to his cheek and made him face you.

He saw your expression and even though you said nothing, he knew what you meant. "I'm not leaving you here."

You both slowly moved closer and kissed each other, removing all the tension in the balladeers shoulder.

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