#why does it sound like you think i only like you as a friend

[chelseeebe]

girls on film

18+. mdni! smut, so much smut. p in v, eddie is a munch! alcohol mentions. pornstar!eddie munson x reader. no use of y/n! modern au.

eddie munson makes porn. you make it. only, eddie doesn't much like the sounds of that.

a/n: happy valentines day my loves! spend some time with our favourite nerd eddie instead of a real man that'll only disappoint. i am so guilty of always giving eddie a breeding kink and then just never giving him any children oopsie hehe. i've been writing this on and off for months now, i already have a p2 and p3 the question is whether i'll finish them or not lol

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

when anyone asked, you’d tell people you were a set assistant. 

what they didn’t have to know was that you were a set assistant for pornstars. 

it wasn’t ever a dream of yours, nor something you’d have ever pictured yourself doing, but it paid the bills and hey, sometimes you met cool people through it too. 

today’s no different to any other, waiting for the talent to arrive as you prep the scene. it’s something ludicrous, metal guy meets friends innocent younger sister, something along those lines. 

you never really paid attention to much of that stuff, at some point it just became so much noise and frantic movement that the script never really mattered. 

he’s late. you’ve heard whispers of his nonchalance before. only hoping that you’d still get home on time. 

when the elusive man finally decides to bless you all with his presence, you’re taken back. not ever expecting the lanky guy that had shuffled through the door. all hair and denim. 

his charm makes up for his tardiness. flowing out of his mouth in droves, shaking hands and sharing hugs with the crew until he gets to you. 

“hey,” the man grins, pulling you in for a half-hug, “i’m eddie, super excited for today now that i’ve seen you.” 

you stare back in confusion, you’d be running towels and telling lighting what to do, why would he ever be excited about that? 

“anything you’re not comfortable with?” he asks, squeezing your arm gently. 

“oh.. what? i’m not- sorry, i just work on set,” shrinking into yourself although flattered that he’d thought you were starring opposite him. 

“oh,” sounding almost disappointed, “that’s a real shame,” the thick smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke wafting towards you. 

your cheeks burn, averting your gaze to the ground, finding solace away from his heavy stare. 

“who is the lucky lady?” eyes gliding around the women in the room, choosing to once again settle on you. 

“she’s.. um, she’s getting ready,” gesturing towards the small dressing area you had. 

you were never this bumbling, a thousand handsome men had stood before you and had never, ever had this impact upon you. 

“cool.. okay,” he nods, “where d’you need me?” his leather jacket tightening around his strong arms, knocking the wind out of your chest. 

“over here,” gesturing vaguely at the empty makeup chair, losing any and all composure when he pats your arm on the way past. 

christ. 

you needed to get a grip and get it fast. 

-

a lick of fresh air would help pull you from this disgustingly down bad headspace he’d plunged you into. 

or not. 

eddie’s hand curls around your arm just before you reach the door, “i’ll join ya,” cigarette already poised in between his lips. 

you can only nod, stepping out into the cool air though it does nothing for your flushed cheeks, edging away despite his efforts to keep close. 

you’re a little intimidated by his hardiness and hardness. struggling to keep your eyes above the waistband. 

“you ever thought about doing this?” he asks, blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“not really.” 

“that’s a shame,” he smirks, “i think we’d make something beautiful,” keeping his gaze steady on your flustered face. 

“stop it,” brushing him off coyly, he didn’t have to be so sickly sweet, his smirk had clearly already worked its magic on you. 

“you don’t agree?” eddie’s eyebrow raises, taking a slow, drawn-out toke of his cigarette.

you shake your head, “there’s a reason i’m behind the camera and not in front of it,” staring out at the bleak, grey parking lot. 

“well i think we should change that,” stepping in front of you, leaving you no room to not look at him, “i’m in town for the week, i’d love to see you again.” 

this didn’t happen to you, ever. the girls you worked with were otherworldly in terms of their beauty, no one ever really paid you any attention at all. 

eddie can sense your hesitation, assuming that he’d scared you away already, “look, take my number. you don’t have to call but i’d like you to,” slipping his cell from his pocket. 

you nod almost on your own, retrieving your own phone to hand off to him. he’s slick in the way he taps the number in, cigarette balanced on his lip as his eyes flicker between phone screens. 

“there ya go,” placing your phone back in your clammy palm, “do what you want with it, i go back to chicago on thursday,” making it clear that whatever this may be, would be temporary. 

“o-okay,” nodding quickly, there was a high likelihood that his number just sat there for the rest of eternity, never to be used or clicked on again. 

you don’t take eddie as the type of guy to pressure you, in fact, he seems quite the opposite. so much so that if you don’t take him up on his offer, you’ll never hear from him again. 

it’s truly an offer you really shouldn’t refuse, but yet you’re hesitant to even accept his advances. mixing work and pleasure like this, especially with someone like eddie, could only end one way. 

“i better get back in, y’ready?” holding the door open, a real gentleman, making you flustered of the most common of decencies. 

you were fucked. 

-

it’s hellish watching him perform. 

not just seeing everything his tight jeans had hidden away but also the way he truly cared about his partner. 

all the gentle touches to her face, cradling her body while completely disrespecting it too. globs of spit leaving his mouth to coat her cunt, making your thighs press together with indescribable want. 

he glances back between takes, making sure to catch your eye every single time. running his tongue over his bottom lip, knocking the air from your lungs without fail. 

you’d bore witness to many overdramatic, frankly fake orgasms in your years on set. very rarely did anything ever make you feel quite like you did today. screaming jealousy at her disappearing eyes, the way his lips brush against her ear, guiding her through her second orgasm of the session. 

it’s not loud, or irritating, just soft mewls accompanied by his soothing voice, making sure you were soaking right through your jeans. 

when eddie cums, his lips fall apart, head thrown back as his hips stutter, using her back as a canvas, jaw gritted together. 

“that was great!” tom yells, your makeshift director. ushering for you to hurry up with the towels and cold water. your fingers trembling as they brush against eddie’s. 

he offers a sweet thank you, quickly slipping back into his robe as you try to regain some semblance of control over yourself. 

you’re ridiculous, a giggly teenage girl more than a grown woman who watches people fuck for a living. this had solidified your position on ever calling him, and simply put, you couldn’t. 

in fact, you’re not certain you can even speak his name again, destined to live a life of perpetual wondering about what could have been. 

-

one glass of wine seemed to have been all it took to get eddie fucking munson back into your head. 

you’d done so well so far, managing to push the disgraceful thoughts way, way to the back of your mind, only for one measly glass of sauvignon blanc to destroy all of your progress. 

it’s not like you were actually going to call him, just toying with the idea, hovering over the button. a little foreplay, if you will. 

maybe you should. 

if one glass of wine was enough to have you already breaking the promise you’d made to yourself, who’s to say what years and years of unknowing would do? 

eddie was interested first, he came onto you first. there’s no doubt he’d be as eager as you were, but you still can’t help the niggling sounds of apprehension. 

the tone is dialling before you can second guess yourself and end it, fingers trembling around your phone, as if it were a ticking time bomb awaiting detonation. 

it rings a couple times before it clicks, connecting the call, “hello?” his voice echoes, thick and as intoxicating as the first time you heard it. 

your lips move yet produce no sound. reluctantly hoping he’ll think it’s a prank call and block the number. 

“eddie,” the first word to form on your tongue, potentially the worst thing you could’ve said. 

“it’s you,” his smile evident, even through the phone, “i was hopin’ you’d call,” you can hear the hustle and bustle of the restaurant now, he mumbles something to a passing waiter about the bill and now suddenly you feel immensely guilty about calling him on a saturday night.

“i’m sorry- am i interrupting something?”

“not at all,” and you can hear him smile all over again.

but what you don’t see is him glancing over at the busty redhead still at the table, waving back at her innocuous wiggle of the fingers. 

“what’re you doing tonight?” he asks, leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“nothing really.. i mean, if you’re not busy, maybe you could.. or we could do something?” wanting to die the second the words leave your lips. 

“that sounds good to me,” his audible grin unwavering, “how ‘bout i come over?” 

you freeze, looking around at the mess surrounding you, piles of paperwork and clothes litter the floor, resembling somewhat of a dumpster rather than an apartment. 

“..you don’t want me to, that’s okay,” answering his own question. 

“-no!” interjecting before he could change his mind entirely, “you should come over,” turning into a desperate little slut before he’d ever even touched you. 

eddie pauses, his feet shuffling in the background, “okay,” voice intoxicatingly thick, “give me thirty minutes and i’m all yours.” 

all yours. 

christ. 

you can feel your knees buckle, turning into putty in his hands. 

“o-okay, i’ll send you the address,” ending the call before you fumble this any further. 

immediately springing up from the mattress, deciding that the one and only time you’re going to mix work and pleasure must be perfect. you work on grabbing piles of clothes, shoving them back into the closet they belonged in. 

eddie wouldn’t care, would he? 

perhaps keeping stuff to the living room would be better, the tiny couch would make do. 

-

thirty minutes practically on the dot, there’s a knock on the door. 

oh god oh god oh god. 

this was a mistake. 

you should shut off all the lights and just pretend you’re not home. 

don’t be so silly. 

cursing the self-sabotaging thoughts, damned to make you second guess every single thing about yourself. 

your head peaks around the open gap, eyes falling on his chest to rise up and meet his daunting eyes. there’s a bottle of wine tucked beneath his arm, the half bottle you’d downed beforehand completely unbeknownst to him. 

eddie blinks, his lips cocked to the side, “well hello,” dressed far too nicely for a drunken booty call at your apartment. 

“hi,” utterly meek and pathetic, swooning over his suave greeting. 

“you look good,” gaze trailing down to your bare legs. you hadn’t expected him to be so put together, now regretting your choice of what was essentially just pyjamas. 

“tha-thank you,” pulling the door open wider, “come in, please,” stepping back to let him inside. 

the air thickens immediately, your clothes suddenly too tight and your palms clammy. if you ever wanted eddie to stay interested in you, you’d have to get ahold of yourself quick. 

“nice,” he saunters around the room, looking at your pictures and the other piles of accumulated artefacts ok your shelves. settling just before the couch to turn and smile. “you live alone?” 

you nod automatically, the air sucked from your lungs at the sheer sight of him in your apartment. it felt like some strange crossover dream that really should’ve stayed unexplored. 

“that’s good to know,” helping himself into the kitchen, opening cabinets to presumably find two wine glasses. 

you brush off his comments, it was no secret as to what he was here for. “top left,” arm brushing against his as you make your way into the small space. 

musk and a hint of lingering cigarette smoke waft your direction, decidedly not turning to sniff his jacket like you so wished you could. 

“care to join me?” offering the bottle out in your direction. 

if you were even just an inch braver, you’d create some witty come back, some utterly irresistible flirty banter that’d surely have him crawling on his knees for you. 

but you aren’t, so instead you nod, hoping you won’t resemble such a wallflower all night. 

-

“can’t believe a pretty girl like you was gonna spend a saturday night all alone,” eddie gushes, a quarter of his wine sipped away. 

it’s incredibly hard to remain stoic when his eyes are crescent-moons, lashes cascading shadows over his cheeks and his tongue periodically wets his plump bottom lip. a routine he's no doubt mastered the art of by now.

“i’m always..” gesturing into thin air, unfortunately aware that whatever came out of your mouth next would make you look like a pathetic loser, “i mean, i go out sometimes..” making matters worse tenfold. 

“really?” 

why’d you open your mouth? 

“no.. i work a lot so..” clearing your throat in a bid to make him forget you’d ever spoken. “i hope i didn’t interrupt anything..” shrugging softly, though you’d already known you had done. 

“i was out for dinner.. nothing important,” brushing you off, “she wasn’t exactly.. uh, great company,” laughing into his glass of red. 

the cogs turn, sudden realisation that you had interrupted a date. and he’d let you. 

“you were on a date,” cringing at yourself, frustratedly embarrassed for no good reason, “i’m sorry- fuck, you should’ve said,” wanting to die a thousand deaths. 

he looks utterly perplexed, “if i wanted to be there, i’d be there, alright?” patting your thigh, the first of his daring moves, “i wanted to see you,” thumb circling the soft skin. 

already making you melt half an hour in. you were toast. there’s positively no way you’ll make it out of here with your dignity in tact. 

“..okay,” bashfully nodding along to his heavy words, seldom to back down so easily. there’s just something about eddie munson and his doe eyes that turns you into a submissive mess. 

his hand doesn’t move from your knee, tracing circles around the bone, “you’re so beautiful and you don’t even know it, do you?” trying his hardest to meet your averted gaze. 

fuck. 

your cheeks burn, pussy already throbbing and he had scarcely touched you yet. how was it possible for him to be so sweet? his words thick like molasses, dripping, leaving their mark all over you. 

“i’m just..” what has gotten into you? this was pathetic. “you’re very kind eddie,” smiling gently, as if his words hadn’t sent you into cardiac arrest. 

he hums, a deep noise from the bottom of his chest, “say my name again sweetheart,” purring, toying with coming closer, “i like it better when you say it.” 

you’d scream it if he wanted you to. let all your neighbours know who was making you act like such a fool. 

“you don’t have to sweet talk me.. you’re already sat on my couch,” finding the last lingering ebbing of confidence to bite back. 

eddie laughs, deep and rumbling, “but i like seeing you squirm.”

oh god. 

had he trained in this? he’s so quick witted, bouncing off of whatever you say immediately. 

“you’re so..” trailing off into silence as you meet his heavyset gaze, intimidated and fazed all at once. 

“so.. what, sweetheart?” cocking his head to the side, alongside his lips. 

you hate him. 

his overwhelming confidence, his gaze that has your heartbeat in your throat and your fingers clawing at your thigh. there was something so intimidating and yet oddly charming about his presence.

“so annoying,” biting back, only really annoyed that he had successfully woo’d you. and without much effort at all.

eddie looks vaguely hurt for a moment, only for his grin to spring right back onto his face, “i don’t think you mean that,” sucking on the backs of his teeth. 

you’d been caught out immediately, bowing your head to hide the inevitable flush. 

just fucking do it. 

the same nagging voice that had made you call him in the first place starts up again, louder this time. if his brazen flirting wasn’t enough to get you to make a move, what would be? 

choosing to grasp the moment as it is, refusing to allow him any more power over you for tonight.  

you charge forward, chest bashing into his equally as heaving chest, attempting to straddle his thighs until you’re stopped by his large palm groping your thigh. 

he breaks apart, the back of his hand brushing against your cheek, “it’s real sweet that you think you’re in charge,” quickly taking your wrists into his grasp, pushing against your pouncing stance to press your back against the couch instead. 

you let him, sinking into the cushions as he moves atop of you, hands skilfully skirting over your hips, tugging at your loose-fitting shorts. 

“oh darlin’, i’ve been waitin’ for this,” running his hands back up your doughy thighs, squeezing the pliant flesh on their way. 

you just about melt under the pressure of his sweet talk, allowing him the power to manoeuvre your body any which way he wanted. there’s a soft thunk as your sweatpants hit the floor, his hand spreading your legs to give him full view of your sodden panties. 

you’re not sure you’ve ever been as wet as you are now, positively drenched just by the feel of fingertips against your skin. 

eddie hums, large hands skirting your thighs, a soft squeeze to the doughy skin, “i really thought you’d never call,” slowly sinking down, leaving a trail of peppered kisses on his way, the tank top you’d slung on gives him perfect view of your hardened nipples, tugging the fabric until your tits fall out. 

“wouldn’t that have been such a shame?” continuing on, making you squirm with every lick of his lips, every last syrupy sweet word. 

his lips attach to the overly sensitive skin as his free hand palms the other, tongue twisting around the bud forcing the pathetic whimper from your throat. 

you can feel him smile against your chest, mouth popping off just to lock around the other, continuing his descent down between your legs. 

he pries your thighs apart, looking up at your skittish eyes, jumping from object to object as the pressure in your clit worsens. 

his lips startle you, warm and wet on the pliant skin, sucking and nibbling until he reaches the hem of your shorts. “you dressed up f’me,” hooking his fingers into the waistband, a short tap on your hip has them jumping up to help him. 

eddie glides them down your legs, holding onto your ankle as the fabric hits the ground. his pretty pink lips curve upward before pecking the soft cotton clothing your cunt. he’s a genius, a master of his craft. you’re not at all shocked that women were lining up to have their turn. 

you quiver when he pulls away, thighs pressed together in a bid to satiate the ache left in his wake. 

his thumb traces your clothed slit, pressing into your hole just to come right back up and circle your clit. it’s almost as if you can feel your brain chemistry changing with every single touch, destined to haunt every other encounter you’d have after this. 

no one had nor would ever touch your body with such sincerity and care again. it just wasn’t possible. 

arousal seeps out, turning the gray coloured cotton darker, literally dripping with want for him. 

your hands come up to hide your warm face, covering your eyes, mostly as an excuse to cut the weighted eye contact he hadn’t once broken. 

but his hands are fast, faster than yours. coming to pull yours right back down again, scolding you for even trying it. “don’t do that.. please don’t do that.”

you nod, vowing to do nothing to piss him off again. eddie’s a professional at best, a whore at worst. he knows what’ll get you whirring, knows where to lay his fingers and in what tone to whisper his words. 

sickening. 

he smirks, one-sided, “i like that you don’t fight it,” trusting you enough to let go of your wrists, delving back between your plush thighs. 

words fail to form, overcome with such horniness that you can’t think straight. 

enough of the games, you want to bellow. 

touch me touch me touch me. 

you’re aching, clenching around nothing. the hollow emptiness driving you further and further into craziness. 

“can we..” sighing softly, losing your train of thought as quickly as it came, “i need you,” digging your nails into the poor couch. this cruel and twisted routine had to stop. 

“nuhuh,” eddie huffs, his warm breath splaying across your cunt, “i’m takin’ my sweet time with you,” using his middle and forefinger this time to dance tauntingly over your pussy, grinning manically to himself. 

“but-,” cut off when his fingers curl around your panties, the cool, harsh air hitting your cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“wow,” he marvels, looking lovesick at your slick folds, “she’s so pretty,” in awe of the sight before him. 

your self-consciousness had faded, losing to your disgustingly eager lust. he could do whatever, however he wanted to you. he just needed to do it quickly. 

his tongue peaks out over his lips, preparing for his feast, “you’ve been so patient,” stubble brushing against the inside of your sensitive thigh, “i think you deserve this.” 

with that, your panties come down, he doesn’t even need you to move, expertly manoeuvring them from your skin. he cradles the damp fabric between his fingers for a moment before sliding them into the back pocket of his jeans. 

you can’t protest, you don’t even want to. he was welcome to take whatever he wanted or needed. 

eddie wraps a hand around your calf, resting it upon his shoulder, repeating the motion as your feet settle on his upper back. his palm finds your thigh next, looping his arms around for leverage. 

he hums with pure sick, adulterated satisfaction, one last glance at your glistening cunt before meeting your gaze. “keep your eyes on me sweetheart,” kissing lazily at the skin, antagonistically slow to make his way up. 

your fingers lay on the couch, scared for what you can and can’t do. 

his tongue meets your folds, pulling you out of your worry and into the real world. fuck whatever his rules were, you needed to touch him. weaving frantic fingers through the curls on top of his head, receiving an encouraging hum of approval, his throat vibrating against your cunt. 

“oh my.. fuck,” panting into the abyss, unable to stop your hips from moving against his face. you’d fuck his face and any other time, he’d let you, but that wasn’t the plan. 

he clamps down on your wriggling hips, keeping them pressed to the couch, refusing to allow you any control over the situation. 

eddie’s lips attach to your poorly neglected clit, sucking gently at the bud, forcing the not-so-quiet moans out of your throat, fingers curling around the strands just to tug on them with every flick of his tongue. 

the knot in your stomach is tight already, threatening to snap at any moment. especially trying when the tip of nose nudges at your clit, sitting right on top while his tongue makes you see stars, circling around your hole and right back up between your folds. 

you’ve never been this wet in your life, arousal dripping from his chin to your ass and thighs. when he pulls away just briefly, his puffy lips gleam in the dim light of your apartment. it’s only momentary though, quickly diving back in to pull you over the edge. 

his tongue swipes thick stripes over your cunt, aching for something him to just fill you up. “shit,” you hiss through gritted teeth. your eyes struggle to stay open, he’d forgive you, right? it was no fault of yours that his tongue felt too good, drawing you to the edge just to rip it from under you. 

lolling your head back against the arm of the couch, no longer able to abide by his arbitrary rules. your thighs were trembling, fingertips entangled in his locks, nothing except your impending orgasm mattered. 

eddie voices his displeasure through a low grumble, only twisting the knot further as his tongue laps at your pussy. a ravenous dog of sorts, refusing to let up until you came on his tongue. 

“fu-uck eddie- i can’t.. i’m gonna cum,” vibrating against his ears, feeling his smile against your core. a sick, perverted man that had you exactly where he wanted. 

the band snaps, throwing you over the edge with a twist of the stomach, shaking legs that struggle to stay perched on his shoulders and a verse of soft pleas and eddie’s that resemble a hymn. 

“.. jesu- shit,” shuddering breaths and mewls that fill the room, letting him lap away at your spent cunt. your limbs mimic jelly, letting go of your hold on his hair to clasp his face. 

eddie re-emerges, licking his lips like a cat that got the cream. self-satisfied and completely smug. 

coming up to rest his chin on your heaving stomach with inquisitive eyes, his rough stubble catching on your tired skin, “worth the wait?” as if he doesn’t already know the answer. 

you nod, rather enthusiastically, “definitely worth it,” playing with the tufts of hair that make up his choppy bangs. 

“good,” biting down onto his bottom lip just to pull himself back up, “but i’m not done with you yet,” prying your legs open once more before peeling his shirt from his body, a sight you’ve seen and yet can’t behold. 

eddie presses his already stiff cock to your cunt, toying with his prey. there’s nothing left in you to fight it, laying back on the couch with a soft sigh. 

no man would ever live up to this, you were now cursed to an unsatisfactory life with whomever you settled for. 

his pants come off next, your eyes falling to the outline of his length immediately. eyeing the tiny dark patch and certainly not thinking about him cumming in his pants while eating your pussy. 

you’ve seen his cock, and yet, your lips still fall open when he tucks his boxers underneath his balls, fisting his throbbing piece while you go googly-eyed. 

“shit,” he remarks, one hand on your knee while the other glides his leaking tip through your slick folds. “no one’s ever been this wet f’me before,” practically purring, his tone thick and full of an animalistic need you had thought was only reserved for porn. 

the pleasure rumbles around your nervous system, only to land in your stomach, squeezing the already-snapped muscle once again. 

eddie’s hand slides from your knee, up to your thigh, giving your hip a well-meaning pinch before settling beside your head on the couch. your bodies melding into one as he comes down to meet you. 

his cock nestles in between once more, slipping inside with a harsh gasp and a visceral grunt. you settle for a grip of his taut shoulders, fingers curling around the muscles and smudgy black tattoos. 

this time, eddie buries his face into your neck, suckling at the soft skin, daring to leave his mark when his teeth come out to graze. you hope they last forever, marked by him for eternity. 

the sensation is all too much, struggling to stay afloat once more, pushed further and further to edge when his tongue swipes over the violet markings that littered your collarbone. 

“holy fuck princess,” he grumbles, partially muffled, “y’gonna cum again already?” breathing heavy and stuttered, struggling with his own premature orgasm. 

words don’t appear, and honestly, at this point they didn’t mean a thing. 

instead, you nod, squeezing his shoulder in a bid to communicate. you unravel all over again, drawn out moans that get cut off by his lips, thighs shaking around his midriff. 

eddie was drinking it all in, intercepting the sweet noises from your mouth with his own, rolling his hips at a more subdued pace as you cum again. 

you were spent, utterly exhausted though he doesn’t let up. once you’re over this climax, his rhythm finds pace again. soft palm caressing your cheek while his lips attach to your jaw bone, planting a hundred quick kisses along up to your ear. 

with one knee dug into the couch, the other leg holding him up from the floor, it couldn’t be very comfortable for him like this. your pleasure was first and foremost his priority, a real man. 

he grunts, driving into your cunt with little consideration for the creaky old couch or your neighbours just trying to enjoy their saturday evening. 

“oh god eddie,” you cry. tugging at his scalp, pathetically rutting back against his hips begging for your third? fourth? orgasm to take over. 

his carefully groomed pubes catch your clit, dampened by the sheer amount of your arousal. 

you were just about ready to sleep for forty days and forty nights, both exhausted and overstimulated by his cock, the weight of his body on top of you and smooth words flowing from his mouth. 

“one more sweetheart,” speaking between rugged grunts, panting with every sloppy stroke, “gimme one more,” he coos, hand sliding down to find your clit for the last time. 

his cock twitches inside when you buck back against him, fingernails leaving harsh strips on his back, leaving your mark for the next girl. 

“shitshitshit,” you rush, coming completely undone again, trembling around his cock, babbling what must sound like pure nonsense to eddie. no doubt letting all of your deepest secrets loose in your third moment of weakness.

“mhm that’s it,” letting his cock slide all the way out, just to reach the hilt over and over again. “inside?” was all he needed to huff for you to get the message, too incoherent to ask any further questions. 

“ye-yes please,” not quite understanding the weight of your words until they leave your mouth. a problem for tomorrow. 

with that, eddie topples over, his orgasm rippling through his limbs and his cock pumping thick ropes of his release inside your exhausted pussy. your cries intertwining in the hot air to create a chorus line of pleasure. 

“jesusfuckingchrist,” he heaves, collapsing in a fit of exhaustion. a sticky pile of limbs that starts with you and ends somewhere with eddie. 

everything feels surreal, the light is gleaming and you sort of feel as if you’re floating, watching him pepper your skin with quick kisses and slot himself comfortably on the cramped couch. 

eddie cradles your body, fixing your top to give you back the tiniest bit of dignity you had left. 

he hums, contemplating something, “‘m glad you called,” swooning, “i don’t know what i’d have done if you hadn’t,” positioning himself underneath your body, a strong arm coming to wrap around your shaking shoulder. 

“you would’ve just had to live without me,” chuckling into the sweaty skin of his chest, embracing the lingering arrogance. 

eddie hums before shaking his head, “nuhuh, we would’ve met again somehow,” running his finger up and down the length of your arm. 

“oh, you think?”

“no, i know,” oozing with confidence. you simply can’t hate it because he’s right. 

there’s no instance that your soul would’ve let you rest until this had happened.

[downbad4sylus]

“Don’t you have other friends…?”

part 1

synopsis: Sylus goes on another business trip so you decided to spend the weekend in Skyhaven with Caleb. Everything is great, until it isn’t.

content: sylus x afab!reader; use of Y/N; established relationship; big caleb cameo; caleb acts like caleb; mentions of injuries; teeny tiny baby zayne cameo; angst; mostly proofread

tags: @miffysoo @pinky27freak @rcvcgers @worshipthecrow @aikonecrosis @blorbohunter @wandering-spirit-1383

word count: ~4.8k (sorry)

a/n: so this is a continuation/part 2 to “come to drug my girlfriend again” with a much bigger caleb cameo. not sure if i’ll be adding more to this or not, but in the meantime i’m working on a purely-sylus-nsfw fic bc this latest event has me feral lmao

Knocking softly on Sylus’s office door, you waited for his reply of “come in” before entering. He sat in his chair, as casual as always, glancing up from his papers to watch you approach.

“Why do you look so nervous?” he drawled, leaning back and crossing his arms.

You were nervous.

Sylus was leaving on another business trip tomorrow and would be gone the entire weekend. You really didn’t want to be alone the whole time, so you reached out to Caleb to see if he was free, and it just so happened that he had the weekend off.

But telling Sylus…well, you weren’t sure how he would take it.

Sylus had never gotten mad at you, had never so much as raised his voice. Even when you were fighting—which wasn’t often—he would remain calm and collected, not at all fazed if you were yelling. You didn’t think he’d yell at you now, but he wasn’t exactly happy when he found out your childhood best friend had drugged you.

“What’s the matter, kitten?” Sylus asked, pulling you from your swirling thoughts. He grabbed your hand between both of his and traced soothing patterns on your palm. “Talk to me.”

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves. “I’m going to Skyhaven while you’re gone,” you said, “to hang out with Caleb.”

His fingers froze, and you caught the minute twitch of his brows. “Don’t you have other friends you can hang out with?”

“Tara and Greyson are away for a weekend together so Zayne is picking up the slack at the hospital. Xavier is out doing whatever sketchy shit he refuses to tell anyone about. Rafayel is in another country for an art exhibition. And Simone and Andrew are holed up at the Association working on modifying weapons.” With each friend listed, Sylus’s brows drew closer until there was a deep crease between them. “But Caleb has the weekend off and said I could come spend it with him in Skyhaven.”

Sylus closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose, and you stayed silent as he processed this information. He knew you would’ve already bought train tickets, not that he would be able to convince you stay in Linkon—or even at the base—regardless.

“Y/N,” he said finally, opening his eyes to fix you with a hard stare, “the thought of you alone with him for an entire weekend, while I’m gone, does not sit well with me.”

You opened your mouth to defend your decision, but pressed your lips together when he held up a hand.

“I wasn’t finished,” he admonished, but his tone was soft, gentle even. “I know how much it means to you to spend time with him, so I’d like to propose a compromise.”

“Okay,” you breathed. “What’s the compromise?”

“For the sake of my sanity, I can be agreeable to you going as long as you answer my texts or calls in a timely manner so I know you’re okay, and you let me know what you’re doing so I don’t think something’s wrong if you don’t answer me right away.”

Considering the circumstances, you didn’t think Sylus’s requests were unreasonable. In fact, you loved the idea that despite being busy with business, Sylus would still be texting and calling you.

So you nodded excitedly. “I can do that, absolutely.”

He visibly relaxed, squeezing your hand as he whispered, “Thank you.”

You pressed a kiss to his brow. “It’ll only be a few days.”

Sylus huffed. “It sounds like you aren’t going to miss me, sweetie.”

“Not one bit,” you teased with a wide grin.

His red eyes darkened with a dangerous glint. “No?” He rose from the chair, now towering over you. “Well,” he sighed, fingers grazing your cheek, “I guess I’ll just have to give you something to remember me by.”

—

Stepping off the train and onto the platform in Skyhaven, you adjusted the collar of your shirt, hoping it still covered the hickey Sylus had left on your neck. He was a biter, and last night was no different. You had to give him credit, he said he was going to give you something to remember him by and he delivered on that promise. You chuckled to yourself, trying and failing to ignore the delicious soreness between your legs.

You fired off a text to your boyfriend, letting him know you’d arrived at your destination. He replied within seconds, saying he was glad you had a safe trip and to let him know when you got to Caleb’s.

“Y/N!”

Your head snapped in the direction of your name, finding Caleb waving excitedly as he jogged to where you stood on the platform. You smiled at your childhood best friend and met him halfway.

Caleb pulled you into a tight hug, one you returned, happiness flooding through you at seeing him again.

“How was the ride?” Caleb asked, pushing you back by your shoulders. His gaze caught on your neck, his eyes narrowing slightly as sense of possessiveness flared in his chest.

“It was fine,” you said, oblivious to his reaction. “A normal train ride.”

Caleb smirked, his expression smoothing. “Good to hear. You hungry? We can grab somethin’ to eat on the way back to my place, unless you want me to cook for you.”

Your smile widened. “I want you to cook for me!”

“Yeah? Your boyfriend can’t cook as well for you?” he teased, cocking his head.

“Caleb!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “Please don’t start, I just got here.”

He laughed, throwing his arm over your shoulders and tucking you against his side. “I’m kidding,” he insisted. “I know no one’s food is as good as mine.”

You shook your head, but did not disagree with him, something he noticed right away. “Can you make chicken wings? I haven’t had yours in so long.”

“Of course, pip-squeak. You mind if we stop at the store to get the stuff I need?” He started steering you away from the platform toward the exit.

“Not at all, it’s been a while since we last grocery shopped together,” you said. “Remember when we were little and I lost you and Gran in the store?”

Caleb chuckled. “Yeah and you started cryin’ so loud we heard you from a couple aisles over?”

You laughed too. “Hey, you probably wouldn’t have found me otherwise.”

He jostled your shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t have left that store without you.”

You peered up at him, finding him already staring down at you with such fondness it made your heart squeeze. “I know, Caleb.”

Caleb kept his arm around you until you reached his car where he finally released you in order to open the passenger side door. You gave an exaggerated curtsy before you got in, Caleb’s laugh still audible even after he shut the door. As he rounded the car toward the driver’s seat, you pulled out your phone and updated Sylus on your plans.

Going to the grocery store to grab some stuff for dinner. How’s business?

His reply came shortly after Caleb slid into, and started, the car.

Whats for dinner? and business is fine boring as always without you here.

“Who are you textin’?”

“Hm?” You looked over at Caleb. “What was that?”

“I asked who you’re texting,” he repeated. “You’re smilin’ at your phone all weird.”

“Weird?!” you exclaimed. “I am not!”

“Are too,” he taunted. “Are you gonna answer my question?”

You dropped the phone into your lap with a huff, Sylus’s text still unanswered. “If you must know, I’m talking to Sk—um, Sylus.”

It was still strange calling Sylus by his real name to someone who wasn’t a part of his inner circle, but you knew better than to use his alias in front of Caleb.

“Been apart for a couple hours and you’re already textin’?” Caleb asked.

“We text all the time, Caleb,” you said, lifting your phone again to respond to your boyfriend.

Caleb’s making me chicken wings. I’ll send you a picture when they’re done. I miss you.

Sylus sent an emoji of a dove cuddling a crow.

Miss you too sweetie. i look forward to seeing your dinner later.

As you texted, Caleb’s grip on the steering tightened until his knuckles were white. It hurt him to think that you wouldn’t be giving him your undivided attention during your visit, and well, he just couldn’t have that. He’d have to come up with a way to solve this little problem of his before the weekend was over.

—

You decided not to send Sylus the picture of your chicken wings until after dinner since Caleb seemed to tense up every time you so much as touched your phone.

Dinner was delicious though, and you were happy to have shared the meal with Caleb.

The day had gone well, the two of you reverting back to your old ways, teasing and joking with each other like no time had passed.

Your heart was warm as you strolled into the bedroom you called your own at Caleb’s house, the one that was once his. You unwrapped the towel around your body, having just gotten out of the shower, and changed into comfy clothes. Caleb was showering now, then the two of you would settle in for the night to watch a movie. You took this opportunity to give Sylus a call.

He picked up after the first ring.

“Sweetie.”

Your face split into a grin. “Hey Sy.”

“All done for the night?” he asked.

“No, Caleb and I are going to watch a movie but I’m waiting for him to finish up in the shower so I figured I’d check in on my super important, big bad businessman boyfriend.”

Sylus snorted. “Super important, huh? I would much rather hear about your day, sweetie.”

“No, uh uh, you first. You know you can’t get away with that anymore,” you admonished.

“Fine, fine,” Sylus sighed, though you could hear his amused smirk through the phone. “It wasn’t all that exciting. I sat through a day full of meetings, keeping myself entertained by texting my beautiful girlfriend. Then earlier tonight I went to an auction where I bought you a few pieces for your growing jewelry collection. And now I’m talking to you.”

“That all sounds exciting to me,” you said, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Are you tired? I know how meetings during the day can exhaust you.”

“I’m okay,” Sylus murmured. “I’ll sleep for a few hours before I’m back in more meetings.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, please.”

“I won’t, sweetie. Now, it’s your turn, tell me about your day.”

You inhaled through your nose. “Well, Caleb and I went grocery shopping after he picked me up from the train station. We hung around for a little once we got to his place before we started dinner.”

“Oh? And did you help make dinner?”

You giggled. “No, you know I didn’t.”

Sylus chuckled. “You are a terrible sous chef.”

“Hey! You love it when I’m your sous chef!“

Caleb knocked loudly on the bedroom door. “Pip-squeak! Are we gonna watch a movie or what? I already popped the popcorn.”

“I’ll be out in a minute!” you yelled.

“Go watch your movie,” Sylus said softly. “Text me before you go to bed, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I love you, Sy.”

“I love you too, sweetie. Thanks for calling.”

“Of course, I’ll text you later.”

Caleb was waiting for you in the hall, as if he had been standing there listening to your call with Sylus (he was).

“How’s your boyfriend?” he asked, the picture of innocence.

You rolled your eyes at him and headed to the living room. “He’s fine, thanks for asking.”

Caleb scoffed. “Yeah, nooo problem.”

You whirled around and punched his right shoulder.

Caleb, feigning hurt, gripped his shoulder. “Ow Y/N, I think you broke it. You’re gonna have to take me to the hospital now.”

You laughed and punched him again.

“Oh that’s it.”

You squealed as Caleb reached for you, barely dodging his fingers before breaking into a run to avoid being caught. He chased you around the living room and into the kitchen where you two got in a stand off on either side of the island.

“Caleb stop!” you cried as he mirrored your every move. “I thought we were watching a movie!”

“You’re the one who assaulted me, pip-squeak,” Caleb protested, smiling from ear to ear.

“I’m sorry okay?!”

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re sorry?”

You raised your palms in surrender. “Yes, so sorry, I shouldn’t have done it. I take it all back.”

“Hmm.” Caleb tucked a contemplative hand under his chin. “I guess you seem sorry.”

You stretched your arm across the island, pinky first. “Pinky swear.”

Caleb flashed you a conspiratorial smirk and locked his pinky around yours. “Okay, you’re forgiven.”

“Yay! Can we go watch our movie now?”

“Yeah, come on pip-squeak.”

—

Sylus’s texts grew more infrequent the following day, and you knew it was because his worry was assuaged knowing your first night was without incident.

You were a little relieved, not because you didn’t want to talk to your boyfriend but because Caleb had made several comments about you being on your phone too much. He even went as far as to say Sylus was “breathing down your neck.”

“He’s just making sure I’m okay,” you had shot back at him. “You haven’t exactly given him reason to trust you, Caleb.”

Caleb couldn’t argue that. And maybe if he were in Sylus’s position, he’d be acting the same way. Worse, actually, he’d be acting much worse.

It was the only tiff you two had gotten in, and it far from ruined the nice weekend you were having.

Today, Caleb took you out to show you around Skyhaven. You went sightseeing and shopping, making Caleb carry your bags which he did enthusiastically and without complaint. And you decided to end the day with a nice dinner that Caleb paid for, the two of you now making the trek to the parking garage Caleb had parked in earlier that morning.

“I can take one of those bags, you know,” you said, eyeing the three bags hanging from Caleb’s right forearm.

“It’s no problem, I’m fine to carry them,” he insisted, shooting you a wide grin. “You really didn’t buy that much.”

“Can’t have a million bags to bring on the train with me tomorrow,” you quipped.

Caleb chuckled. “No of course not, that would be highly inconvenient.”

“I’d look like a lunatic!”

“Now that’s a little dramatic, pip-squeak.”

“I’ve never been dramatic a day in my life.”

Caleb abruptly stopped walking and just stared at you for a few seconds before bursting into hysterics. You followed suit, laughing so hard you doubled over.

“Okay, stop, stop,” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t breathe.”

That only sent Caleb into another wave of laughter, clutching at your arm as if he needed to ground himself.

It took at least ten minutes for you and Caleb to calm down, both of you leaning against the wall of a nearby building, trying to catch your breath.

“Ah man, I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” said Caleb, wiping tears from under his eyes.

“Yeah me too,” you said, looking up at your childhood best friend. You grabbed his left hand and squeezed. “I’m really happy you’re back Caleb.”

“Y/N,” Caleb breathed. “I’m really happy I’m back too—“

Your Hunter’s Watch chose that exact moment to start frantically beeping. Your heads jerked toward the Metaflux fluctuation mere yards away.

Caleb dropped the bags he was holding and pulled out two guns from underneath his jacket.

“I didn’t bring any weapons, give me one of your guns,” you said, holding out a hand.

“I can handle this, just stay here,” Caleb retorted.

The Wanderer appeared, sending any nearby people scattering.

You grabbed his arm, stopping him from advancing any further. “Caleb, I’m a Hunter, now give me a gun.”

Caleb leveled you with a hard glare, looking more like the Colonel than your best friend. “Stay. Here.”

He wrenched his arm from your grip and strode toward the Wanderer.

“Caleb!” You moved to go after him only to have the weight of his Evol surround you, keeping you locked in place. “Caleb!”

He didn’t answer, didn’t so much as turn around and acknowledge you. You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest. How could he do this? How could he, after everything, still treat you like a little girl he needed to protect? You were hurt and frustrated and regretting ever coming to Skyhaven in the first place.

And worst of all, you knew you could never tell Sylus about this.

A second fluctuation formed close beside you.

“Caleb!” you screamed, desperately trying to get his attention. Again, he didn’t even turn his head. “Shit. Shit.”

The Wanderer appeared, its focus zeroing in on you.

You struggled against Caleb’s Evol, crying out for his help, but your pleas went unanswered and the Wanderer attacked.

As Caleb sank the killing shot into the Wanderer he was facing, he heard it. The sickening crack followed by your agonized shriek.

He whirled around and the world slipped from under his feet.

There you were, your shoulder obviously dislocated, and the second Wanderer backing away from where it had slammed into your side. Pain twisted the expression on your face and Caleb felt it as though you had grabbed hold of his heart and crushed it in your fist.

This was his fault. You were hurt because of him.

“Caleb.” His name was a broken, desperate sob from your lips, begging for his help. Begging him to let you go.

He did, releasing the hold his Evol had on you and you collapsed to the ground, holding your ribs with your uninjured arm. Caleb made quick work of the Wanderer then rushed to your side.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, where does it hurt?” he asked, his hands hovering over you, not knowing where to start.

You resisted the urge to cringe away from him. He didn’t mean for you to get hurt, you knew that, but if Caleb had just let you fight then this would’ve never happened.

“Okay, okay, I’m going to pick you up and we’re going to get you better. Okay, pip-squeak?”

You bit your lip and nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Caleb swept you into his arms with as much gentleness as he could manage, but it didn’t stop the wave of pain that crashed through you. Your bags were forgotten as Caleb made a break for the parking garage.

—

You ended up passing out in the car on the way to Caleb’s house, the pain just too much for you to handle.

Caleb, who luckily had some medic training under his belt, was able to assess your condition. Your shoulder was dislocated, and he was pretty sure your ribs were at least bruised, at worst cracked.

By the time you regained consciousness, you were laying in bed with Caleb sitting beside you. His eyes were full of guilt and concern, the two battling for dominance within the purple hues.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing the hair from your face. “How are you feeling?”

You scrunched your eyes closed. “It hurts Caleb.”

“I know, pip-squeak, I’m so sorry.” When you didn’t respond, he sucked in a deep breath before saying, “I set your shoulder while you were unconscious, does it feel any better?”

You shifted your shoulder. It still hurt like a bitch, but it felt better now that it was back in the socket. “Yeah,” you managed with a nod. “Thank you.”

Caleb huffed a humorless laugh. “Don’t thank me, I’m the one who got you into this mess.”

“Caleb, please, I know you didn’t mean it.”

He shook his head.

You really didn’t have the energy to fight with him right now, to convince him of the intentions behind his own actions. “Do you have my phone?”

Caleb went rigid, his gaze hardening. “Why? So you can call your boyfriend?”

“Yes, Caleb,” you hissed. “Unless you want Sylus to come break down your door.”

He laughed again, a chilling sound. “He isn’t going to break down my do—“

Caleb was quick to eat his own words at the sound of his door being broken down at that very moment.

“Y/N?!”

You couldn’t help the relief that flooded through you hearing Sylus call your name. You never doubted for a second that he wouldn’t stay true to his word in coming for you if he thought you were in trouble.

Caleb, however, looked like he could commit murder.

You tried and failed to grab Caleb’s sleeve as he rose from the bed and marched out of the room all together.

Caleb didn’t think the several missed calls and dozen unanswered texts on your phone would lead to the head of Onychinus busting down his front door. Though perhaps Caleb was naive to underestimate Sylus and the lengths he would go to for you. If he weren’t the obstacle keeping you from Caleb, he might have had some respect for the snowy haired man currently seething in his living room.

“Where is she?” Sylus growled, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“She’s resting,” Caleb said simply.

Sylus huffed, unamused by the Colonel’s response. “Let’s not make this more difficult than it already is, Colonel.”

Caleb’s eye twitched. “What are you even doing here?”

“I’m here to take my girlfriend home because you clearly cannot be trusted to be around her,” was Sylus’s reply.

It only made Caleb angrier that Sylus wasn’t so much as raising his voice. As if Caleb wasn’t a threat but a mere nuisance getting in Sylus’s way.

The weight of Caleb’s Evol emanated from him like an aura as Sylus’s black-red mist swirled around his fists.

But before the two could break into an all-out brawl, you stumbled into the living room.

“Stop, both of you please stop,” you pleaded.

Sylus’s red eyes lit with fury upon seeing you. You hadn’t answered him because you were hurt. He was going to kill the Colonel for this.

“Y/N, what happened?” he asked, his tone noticeably softer when speaking to you.

“I’m fine, it’s fine, we just ran into some Wanderers on our way home from dinner. The fight got ugly,” you explained.

Sylus knew you better than anyone though, and he knew you weren’t telling him the whole truth.

“What did you do to her?” he snarled at Caleb, taking a step toward him.

Panic sluiced through your veins at that minute movement from Sylus, knowing he wouldn’t be letting Caleb off so easily this time.

So you did what any normal person would do in this situation.

You broke down in tears.

Sylus’s entire focus shifted to you and he was at your side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his hands capturing your face so tenderly it made your heart ache. “Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “I want you to stop fighting.”

His brow buckled. “Sweetie, you’re hurt because of him, you know I can’t just let that go.”

“Please!” you cried. “Please stop, Sy, I can’t have the two most important people in my life hating each other. I can’t handle it!”

Sylus tucked you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll stop, but you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded, your cheek rubbing against his shirt. “Okay.”

“I’ll go get your bag. Don’t move.”

Sylus pushed you back and sat you on the couch, kissing your forehead before striding for the room you’d been staying in, not sparing the Colonel a glance.

Caleb had stood stock-still during the entire exchange, staring with wide eyes and an aching heart. The way your body melted into Sylus’s with the simplest of touches, the way your expression eased when he kissed your head. It was awful. It was so unbearably awful.

When you were left alone, he stumbled over to you as if in a daze.

“Pip-squeak,” he muttered, “don’t go.”

Your eyes, full of anguish, met his. “I’m going Caleb,” you whispered. “It’s the only way to keep you both from killing each other.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he protested, collapsing onto the floor in front of where you sat. “I promise I wasn’t.”

You hung your head, defeated. “It’s too late. What’s done is done.”

Caleb was desperate. If you left, would he ever see you again? Would your stupid boyfriend forbid you? Or would you not want to be near him?

He grabbed your hands. “Please tell me you’ll come back.”

“Caleb.”

He stared up you with such profound sorrow. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want to lose you.”

“You aren’t going to lose me,” you assured. “We just need to let things settle for a while, okay?”

Caleb was abruptly pulled away from you, Sylus having returned from gathering your things and dragging Caleb by the back of his collar.

“You lost the privilege of being near her,” Sylus said, matter of fact.

Caleb snapped to his feet and slapped Sylus’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t touch her,” Sylus hissed.

A fresh wave of tears poured down your cheeks. “I said stop fighting!” you wailed. “Sylus can we please just go?”

“Of course, sweetie. Can you walk?”

You nodded, holding onto his arm with our one good one for support as you stood.

You said nothing to Caleb and he said nothing to you as Sylus walked you out of his house. You didn’t know what to say, and neither did he. Sorry didn’t cut it, even if you assured him it was okay. All he wanted to do was protect you, to prevent you from getting hurt and yet it was his fault that you had. It was his fault you were led out of his house by your boyfriend, leaving him behind.

Maybe he deserved this. Maybe it was karma for leaving you and still expecting you to welcome him with open arms once he came back. How could he possibly make it up to you now? How could he possibly convince you to love him when it was Sylus swooping in to rescue you?

This wasn’t how this weekend was supposed to go, and Caleb had no idea what it meant for his future with you.

—

“I know you aren’t going to like it when I say this, but I don’t want you going back to Skyhaven.”

You sighed, fidgeting with Sylus’s fingers as you both lay in his bed. “I don’t like it, but I also can’t blame you for saying it.”

Before returning to the base, Sylus had first taken you to Akso Hospital where Zayne looked you over. The doctor ensured that your shoulder was properly set and put in a sling, as well as determined your ribs were in fact bruised, and not cracked or broken. He sent you off with a prescription for painkillers and a treatment plan, knowing full well that Sylus would take care of you.

“Next time I have a business trip, you’ll be taking time off and coming with me,” Sylus said, brushing his lips along your cheek. “It’s so much better when you’re there anyway.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch. “Then I can pick out my own jewelry at the auction.”

Sylus chuckled. “I’ll buy you anything you could ever desire.”

He’d also make you forget about your childhood best friend, who seemed to be far more trouble than he was worth. Though Sylus knew better than to say so aloud, but made his silent vow nonetheless.

You turned your head and placed a chaste kiss on Sylus’s lips. “Thank you.”

“For what, sweetie?”

You kissed him again, more earnestly this time. “For everything, Sy.”

He drew back, wanting to look you in the eye as he said, “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N.”

—

Caleb’s phone buzzed and it took every ounce of effort for him to pick it up.

I forgive you, Caleb. We’ll talk later this week, okay?

Your text nearly brought the Colonel to tears.

okay, pipsqueak :)

He gripped his necklace tight, and read your message over and over again until it was burned into his retinas so, even with his eyes closed, he could still see it.

[xoluvx]

💋&9 or

🌹&3

(Hope it makes sense xx)

i love you bb!! i hope you love this too ♥️

accidental brush turns intimate late-night craving

you're sharing a bed because why not? you had no other option. so what if all you could think about was the proximity of her body? she was lying right next to you. you could hear her soft breathing as she scrolled through her phone. you could smell her hair and the perfume that still lingered after a long day of traveling.

it normally wouldn't have been a problem, she was your best friend, but things had turned weird when you realized you liked her as more than just friends. there was no way you were going to confess those feelings for her and risk making things awkward. so you inhaled and exhaled. you turned your body, unintentionally rubbing your ass against the side of her body. god, these beds were so small. any other time you wouldn't have minded the body heat, but your heart was racing as you scooted your body to closer to the edge. you held your breath, feeling her move besides you.

"you okay?" she whispered leaning her head on your shoulder and the simple action made your insides flip. you caught your breath and nodded hiding your face in the blanket. "are you sure?" she dragged out the 'sure' in her 'trying to lighten up the mood' kind of way and you nodded again. her hand rested on your hip and you couldn't stop yourself from wanting to burn alive. there were so many implications in that simple touch. your heart was now pounding. you were clenching the blanket and biting your lip trying to hold back the whimpers that were hanging on the tip of your tongue. they slipped through the cracks when she nuzzled her face in your neck. you felt her tense up.

"i'm sorry," you whispered sitting up as the bedsheets rustled and the mattress squeaked. "i- i don't know what that was or where it came from-" you were rambling trying to justify the sound, but she laid unfazed. she rested her body on her elbow looking at you curiously. you looked back at her, meeting her calm gaze. a smile was forming on her lips, it only made your heart do flips again.

"i really wanna kiss you right now," she whispered and your lips parted. brows raising. did she really just-

"okay," you nodded letting the moment take its course. she said it. you'd been thinking it, so why not? you watched her sit up. her hand cupping your jaw. face leaning in close until your lips were brushing tentatively. her eyes were open looking into your doe ones still uncertain of where this was going, but not really caring as long as you finally got to taste her. there was a silent agreement that bound the two of you together in a kiss. a kiss so hesitant at first. a kiss that quickly gained momentum as you dug your hands in her hair. as you maneuvered your body so you were straddling her. a kiss that was so passionate you could hardly breathe as she held an arm tight around your body.

you whimpered into her mouth and something about that very peculiar sound ignited a fire in her. in a swift movement, she flipped your bodies so you were lying under her. your arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, her hands pushing your hips down into the mattress as she wedged her leg between your thigh. when she moved her hips, her thigh brushing on your pussy. you moaned into the kiss pulling on her hair.

she was the one who whimpered in your mouth this time. the tug from your hands urged her to keep moving her hips. your bodies were grinding on the bed still fully clothed as you drowned in the heat of the moment. lips sloppy. breathing heavy. limbs tangled as the temperature in the room increased. as the implications of the your touch grew deadlier. you'd have to think about this later, but right now you were so intoxicated by her touch.

dia’s galentine’s sleepover

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Alright don't look at me. This post is going to be very large because I am 3 weeks behind oops. So here we go with Week 4/5/6 of

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you)

And also don't look at me about saying there would be an influx of older Sterek, okay? The Buddie brainrot is hard to beat.

Sterek: 6 Buddie: 33 (Buddie is all below the Read More :) )

BONE APPLE TEETH

"good boy" by quackquackcey | @quackquackcey (2025•E•10.8K)

Stiles doesn’t think his senior year can get any worse with his best friend turning rabid every full moon, until he finds himself stuck with a massive black wolf overnight that doesn’t even like jerky. But on the bright side, the hot guy with the half-dying sister he met at the gas station seems to be in town for a bit, so there’s still a chance that his senior year, his supposed best year of high school, isn’t a complete lost cause…right? That is, if he can manage to juggle the sassy wolf that he takes care of at night and the hot guy that asked him out on a date for some reason.~ 🐺🍕

You're My Sanctuary by lilmissdaydreamer (2022•E•33.4K)

The Argent Wolf Sanctuary. It’s been Stiles’ dream since he was five years old to work with the wolves, ever since his mother took him up there to see the magnificent creatures on one of their ‘full moon runs’ that the Sanctuary does once a month. The wolves are beautiful and much larger than Stiles would’ve thought, or at least, the newest wolf is. The owner had said he’s a special breed. Stiles just didn’t realize quite how special he is.

The Accidental Stilinski by DaisyBeats | @jos-corner-of-the-world (2025•GA•4.2K)

Eli starts his first day at lacrosse practice being mistaken for Stiles. Eli just rolls with it We all love a good unhinged Coach Finstock moment

Badlands by write_light | @write-light (2024•E•33.4K)

Sterek AU as camp counselors / ranch hands from different worlds, meeting in the mountains over three summers, and falling in love but living separate lives. They're only truly free in the endless high altitude summers that never last long enough and can never return the same way twice. Will they find a way to do this forever and just be together? Beacon Hills holds no monsters, but terrible creatures fill the lands around Hale Ranch, high in the Colorado Rockies. Nature walks and howling wolves, bucking bulls and stars overhead, and two boys who need each other more than they’ll ever admit.

begging you to stay (if it isn't too late) by MonsterRae1 | @monsterrae1 (2025•E•15.6K)

“Why?” He asked in between broken sobs “Why did he leave us, dad?” Derek hadn’t know what to answer, he hadn’t known how to explain to their perfect and sweet boy that they had struggled with their marriage for a long time, that they loved each other very very much, that Derek would always love Stiles, but he wasn’t going to force him to stay somewhere he didn’t feel loved anymore. Stiles had wanted more, and Derek couldn’t give him that. * Or, after getting injured on a mission, Stiles is forced to recover under the watch of his ex husband, feelings occur.

Stay the night, stay forever by Helloloveyes (2025•E•9.7K)

Stiles met Erica, Boyd and Isaac on three different occasions, their friendship saved him from the loneliness he carried. Then they introduced him to Derek Hale, a man that changed Stiles' life forever. After failing in love and still suffering the consequences, Derek wasn't expecting to find someone like Stiles, so perfect for him it hurt.

Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•E•61.2K)

When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

i can read between your lines (dizzy from the spinning) by buckleydiazy | @buckleydiaz (2025•E•4.3K)

“So, theoretically,” Eddie sounds absolutely delighted, “if we didn’t know each other, you’d hook up with me in a public bathroom?” “Theoretically—I mean, do you want a serious answer?” Eddie hesitates for a moment. “Yeah,” he says quietly, all traces of humor gone from his voice. “Tell me.” “Probably,” Buck says. Then a little firmer—“Definitely.” aka: Buck and Eddie have phone sex.

save all your questions for the end by lady_ragnell | @theladyragnell (2025•T•9.3K)

She’s got that pitying expression that always puts Eddie’s hackles up, the widows-and-orphans face, and she’s looking at Buck and Chris as Chris whoops his way down the slide and Buck watches carefully as he catches himself at the bottom. “He must miss his sister very much,” she says. “They look so much alike.” In which someone makes a totally logical, if heteronormative, assumption and Eddie loses his damn mind about it.

making me crazy (really driving me mad) by sunshinelester (2025•E•4.9K)

“Fuck, Buck,” Eddie muttered against his skin, his voice rough and strained. “You smell… good.” Buck’s mind was spinning, conflicting emotions rising in his chest until he felt like he would explode. The alpha in him wanted to growl and nip at the older man’s audacity. To treat him like a potential mate? To look at him like he wanted to swallow the younger man whole? This wasn’t normal. Alphas didn’t act like this with each other, especially not during a rut where the instinct to mate was at the forefront of their minds. And yet. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Eddie was in a rut. As a fellow alpha, Buck didn’t think much of it; not until he had the older man pressed against his back with sharp canines scraping on his mating gland.

a buck caught in headlights by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•M•6.1K)

After going to a queer club together, a drunk Buck and May call Eddie to bring them home. Completely forgetting who is driving, Buck ends up confessing his love for Eddie to May... with Eddie in the front seat. -- Okay,” Buck says to himself as he fishes out his phone from his pocket. The bright light hurts his eyes and he has to put it far away from him, not unlike Bobby trying to read a meme without his reading glasses. The thought makes him giggle. “Who do we call?” “Ghostbusters,” May says, snickering. It takes Buck three tries to unlock his phone. “Hmm… Hen, Karen, Maddie – nope, she needs her beauty sleep. Uh… Eddie, Chim-“ “Eddie!” May says excitedly. She smiles at him, “I love Eddie! Eddie is awesome.” Buck nods, “He really is. I will call Eddie.”

Canine Teeth In The Side Of My Neck by RighteousPunk (2025•E•5.9K)

Eddie’s skin is pale, cold under his touch, yet, something feels different. It’s not pale, cold, is about to die skin he’s used to touch on the worst of emergencies. Their gloves usually don’t manage to hide the feeling that comes with someone who’s on death’s door. And then, it hits him. There’s a hue in Eddie’s eyes, something he’s sure was never there before. In the dim lights of the loft, Eddie’s eyes are shining red. And through Eddie’s slightly opened lips, two white canines are perking out.

Or, Eddie arrives wounded at Buck's loft, and Buck learns a new truth about his best friend.

Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon | @glorious-spoon (2024•T•9.6K)

"Though—and I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but since you and Natalia are over with now, I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie?" Buck stops wincing and just blinks at her for a second. Then he says, "What?" "You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." - Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

shoulder the sky (let the rain come) by literalmetaphor | @absolutelybifurious (2024•M•44.5K)

There’s too much heat. The flames crackle and curl in the busted windows. The house is only two stories high. If Buck would listen, if he’d turn around and get out – he could be at the door, he could be out of the fucking blast radius. But Buck’s still standing in it. Eddie is cursed. Like he has been for years. Eddie is the blast radius. OR Eddie Diaz is cursed.

Parabola by semperama | @semperama (2025•T•4.6K)

“Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” Eddie turns toward him, mouth quirked, brow furrowed, like Buck has just said something sort of silly. Like he’s talking about curses again. “What?” “I mean. Like.” Buck twists his fingers together in his lap and looks down at them. “You need to change it so your parents will be his guardians, right? If something happens to you.” “What?” Eddie says again, and he doesn’t sound amused this time.

you'll find you again by rangerdanger (mxgicxltrxgedy) | @call-me-medusa (2025•E•4.6K)

“Eddie,” Buck asks again, punctuating each word as he repeats his question, “What did you want to do?” Eddie can barely remember how they got here in the first place. “Give myself joy.” “Give yourself joy.” Buck repeats. “Now, how are you going to give yourself joy if I come and get you off myself?” - Or, Eddie's learning how to want joy for himself.

A Million Stabs Is All It Took by hearmyplea (2025•T•18.2K)

Eddie wants a tattoo after returning from deployment. The fact that his tattoo artist, this Evan guy, is affecting him this much shouldn't be examined.

from your point of view by MacksDramaticShenanigans | @stevethehairington (2025•T•4.3K)

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie not-quite-slurs. It’s a close thing, though. The glass in his hand is his fourth— no, fifth, and wine always hits him so much harder. He’s bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked and loose-limbed on the couch, pressed so close to Buck he’s half in his lap. Buck’s got a steadying arm around his waist— couldn’t avoid the draw to touch even if he wanted to. “Hm?” Buck asks, feeling a little buzzy himself. “Buck,” Eddie repeats. “You’re bicyc—bisect— bisexual.” Buck laughs at Eddie’s stumble. Smiles bright, proud, and nods. “I am,” he agrees. “Have you ever—” Eddie’s winestained mouth purses; his brow furrows thoughtfully, “— have you ever thought about me?” He sways forward, widens his eyes purposefully, whispers, “Like, y’know.”

white house AU by buddiebuddie | @buddie-buddie [Part 1 & 2]

buck is the president of the united states and eddie is the secret service agent in charge of his security detail. shenanigans ensue.

Ink Flowers Into My Skin by hoveringcat9 | @hoveringcat9 (2025•T•4.7K)

Buck feels adrift, he’s fed up of dating and his search for the right tattoo artist has been fruitless. Luckily Karen has a new friend up to the job and more. For Week 7 of Winter of Buddie - Prompt Floral

kiss me on the mouth and set me free by keiro (2025•E•3.6K)

“It’s alright , it’s alright… I got you,” Eddie whispers on his skin, punctuating the end of the phrase with a kiss. When he speaks again, his voice is a tone lower, words rasping out of his lips. “Eyes on me, Buck.” Buck forces himself to open his eyes, and he’s just in time to see Eddie staring right at him, opening his mouth just a little while he holds his arm. Buck sees the way Eddie’s fangs expand, a gasp stuck on his throat right as they sink into his skin. - Eddie bites Buck, what comes next is a consequence.

He touched me, so I live to know by KejfeBlintz (2025•T•4.1K)

Eddie was jostled as Buck crashed down beside him, drinks in hand. The bar was packed so six of them were jammed in a booth designed for four. Eddie shot a quick apologetic look at Ravi, who had been squashed against the wall with Buck’s ungainly arrival. Buck handed out everyone’s drinks then pushed himself close to Eddie to fit on the bench, elbowing him in the ribs. “Watch it, Buckley,” Eddie groused, elbowing him back. “You watch it, Diaz,” Buck replied, kicking his ankle. “How about you both watch it,” Ravi grumbled as he was shoved against the wall again. “Be easier if there wasn’t a literal giant taking up all this space,” Eddie complained, “dude, when did you get this broad?” “These are lifesaving muscles, Eddie, don’t be a hater.” Or, 5 times Buck and Eddie touched, and one time they really touched.

An Angry Blade by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•M•43.8K)

Buck finds out that the curse of Billy Boils is VERY real, and far more complicated and dangerous than he could have expected.

H-E-A-T-A/B/O: A Buddie Anthology by Bucksbelly (drarryweasley) | @bucksbelly [WIP] (2025•E•20.9K)

An anthology of Buddie one-shots based in omegaverse settings. These stories are NOT connected; they each have slightly different lore and can be read in any order! Brought to you by I wanted to write my favorite trope but couldn't decide how to do it so I wrote a bunch of them

Pain's like cold water by shadowkatninjawarrior (2024•M•75.2K)

Evan Buckley had lived a lie for sixteen years and it was going just fine. Until the truth started spilling through his fingers. Or, Omega!Buck has been pretending to be an alpha for more than half his life and everything changes when Eddie finds out.

faded from the winter by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•T•9.9K)

Eddie struggles to bounce back after the shooting. Buck starts leaving him with his service dog, Cranberry.

gravity in between us by charmingqueenie | @alexisrosemullens (2025•T•16.7K)

Eddie’s not used to explaining his relationship with Buck. Everyone in LA just knows what they are. They’re Buck and Eddie. There isn’t one without the other. He knows that he’s been vague about what Buck is to him with his new coworkers. He knows this and yet he can’t stop himself. The first few times were an accident. He doesn’t mean to be vague and what he said could imply platonic. This time though. or Eddie accidentally implies that he's dating Buck to his new team in El Paso.

We're Overdue for a Revival by BespectacledBunny | @bespectacledbunnys (2024•M•60.8K)

“If I had,” Chris lingers on the words, watching Eddie intently through the screen, “If I had conditions?” Eddie feels his stomach knot up. It’s the first time Chris has ever alluded to a willingness to come home. Usually he just shoots Eddie down with a flat “I know” before hurrying off the call. Eddie Diaz will be damned before he lets this chance slip through his hands. “Anything,” his voice rings with desperation in his own ears, “Whatever you need to feel ready to come home. If I can make it happen, I will.” Chris eyes him, young face serious as a judge presiding over trial. An apt comparison because only Chris could condemn or parole Eddie. His fate is in his son’s hands so completely that if he was going to therapy, Frank would probably be concerned. Finally, Chris opens his mouth and says something so earth shattering as to crack the foundations of his father’s mind. “Marry Buck,” Chris says firmly.

cat-astrophic by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•T•5.5K)

Buck falls in love with a kitten. The kitten falls in love with Eddie. (Buck doesn't blame her.) -- It doesn’t take long before a familiar truck approaches. Eddie looks unimpressed as Buck gets into the car, holding the kitten tightly to his chest. “I’m surprised it took you this long to pick up a stray.” Buck snorts, “Well, you picked me first, so.” Eddie shakes his head, starting to drive again. “I didn’t pick you. You just appeared.” “Well, this one just appeared as well,” Buck tells him. “I couldn’t leave it, Eddie. What if a predator eats it?”

What if All I Need is You by serenelystrange | @serenelystrange (2025•GA•2.9K)

“Does Ravi actually think me and Eddie are dating?” “Maybe,” Chim says after a moment of consideration. “Or he’s just really good at fucking with you.” “50/50,” Hen agrees. “Eddie doesn’t even like men,” Buck says with a frown. “I asked.” “Of course you did,” Chim says, dropping his head into his hand with a murmured whisper of Jesus Christ.

oh brother, I see (you burn like me) by canadadry (2024•M•47.9K)

Adriana doesn’t tell their parents that she’s going to LA. She doesn’t tell Eddie, either—or ask, for that matter. She does ask Chris, and he thinks it’s a good idea—says as much, on the phone, and doesn’t say much else. “Buck will probably be hovering,” is what Chris does volunteer. It still surprises her when the man who opens the door is not Eddie. It’s—Captain America, is the thing that actually comes to mind—a man close to a foot taller than she is, if not more than that, with blond curls and broad shoulders, and he’s got a question in his very blue eyes that’s probably less friendly than the one he actually asks her. “Uh,” he says. “Can I help you?” — Or: Adriana arrives in LA. Maddie has been here the whole time.

Don’t hang up on me, cause I’m hung up on you by creatures_that_dont_die | @creatures-that-dont-die (2025•E•5.8K)

“What are you making for dinner?” “I was just going to reheat some leftovers,” Buck says. Eddie makes a noncommittal noise on the other end, sounding almost disappointed. “What, were you hoping I’d make you something?” “No, I—” Eddie hesitates, then sighs. “I sort of wanted to listen to you cook.” The softness in his voice shifts to teasing. “You talk so much while you do it, I figure it’ll fill all the silence here. But I can just watch TV instead, once I figure out how to—” “No, no, I’ll cook something. Only because you asked so nicely. I’ll put you on speaker, okay?” As Buck sorts through Eddie’s fridge, deciding what he can throw together, he and Eddie fall into their usual chatter. When he’s at the stove, facing away from his phone resting on the table, he can almost imagine that Eddie is here with him and not 800 miles away. (Buck and Eddie talk on the phone almost constantly, and one thing leads to another.)

one way out and we're gonna find it by atlasblue85 | @atlasblue85 (2025•T•6.9K)

He just needed a little more time, is what he kept telling himself. A little more time to work through it and he’d be okay, wouldn’t feel like there’s a vice grip over his heart and lungs and the voices of his childhood priests in the back of his head at the thought of being seen in public with a man. There’s tears rolling silently down his cheeks now as Buck cradles him, and he finally manages to whisper, “How’d you do it? Go on a date with a guy, in public?” “Eddie?” Buck’s hands still from where they’ve been rubbing soothing patterns across Eddie’s back. “I don’t– I can’t–” Eddie tries, but he can’t make the words come, and he grips Buck’s shirt tighter instead.

younger than clouds by seachanged | @spacesongs (2025•T•1.1K)

When Buck drifts back awake the sun is about to drop over the horizon, its last light bathing the cabin in buttery pinks and corals. Eddie is leaning against the kitchen island dressed in a pair of boxer briefs that appear to be Buck’s, at least judging by how low they hang on his hips.

check me out and take me home by prioritizelove (2025•GA•1.4K)

“Chris really likes you, you know. One time–” Eddie laughs, “One time I brought him here during the evening, so you weren’t here, and he was literally pouting when we left. Said the librarian at the desk wasn’t as good as his friend Buck and ended up just checking out one of those, uh,” he waves a hand, “wimpy diary books.” Or Buck's a children's librarian and Christopher is his favorite patron. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to seeing Christopher’s dad as well.

Meet Me in the Middle (Underneath a Little Bit of Mistletoe) by Princessfbi | @princessfbi (2022•E•40.2K)

“I’m sorry…” Eddie said, holding his hand out to stop the tumble of words falling from Buck’s lips. “You want to what?” Of all the things he thought Buck wanted to talk about at breakfast, the breakfast Buck had asked Eddie if he wanted to grab at the end of their long shift, this was nowhere near it. “Fake date.” Buck repeated with all the confidence in the world that Eddie didn’t believe for a second because what Buck was proposing was insane. “For the holidays.” aka Buck and Eddie agree to fake date each other to get through dinner with their parents during the holidays!

Face to my face by EtoileGarden | @etoilegarden (2023•T•46.5K)

“Is your birthmark genetic?” Bobby asked, raising his eyebrow at Buck over the salami he was slicing. “Does it match one of your parents?” Buck spoke through the slice of salami he’d snuck into his mouth. “Nah,” he said. “I’m the first.” “Maybe your kids will have it,” Hen suggested. “If you end up having kids.” “Poor kids,” Chim said, patted Buck on the back. “I can not imagine that was a kind birthmark to wear during school. Kids are mean.” Buck tried to laugh it off. Was filled with the cold memory of his classmates teasing him. He’d managed to bluster his way into popularity as a teenager - once he’d shot up and became broad in all the right places. But before that? “Maddie - my sister - she always said I looked cool,” he said in an attempt at bravado. “I think - I think - I was fine.” Or - another dad!Buck fic because I always love writing baby fics. Eventual Buck/Eddie.

[emmg]

Bees

This piece of unholy crack is for my wife @jainydoe

I want a fic where bellara is emmrich's ward and rook does the whole Look at your dad keeping bees Bellara I'm gonna fuck your dad shtick

"So he, like, adopted you?" 

Bellara gets bonked across the face by a very round, very enthusiastic artifact. "I guess? Kind of? A little bit before I was all grown up." 

Rook pulls a face. "Why?" 

Bellara idly scratches her ear with a wrench. "Oh, you know. Legal things." 

Rook’s face only twists further. "That explains nothing. That is the opposite of explaining. What in the Maker’s name does that even mean?" 

"Oh! Well, see, he was in Tevinter, and I sort of—not on purpose—ended up owing a lot of money. And then the people I owed were, um, very insistent that I give it back. Which was unfortunate, because I didn’t have it. And I told them I didn’t have it, but they still wanted it. So he paid it for me, and now I just use his money. It all worked out!"

Rook's eye twitches. "So… you're his mistress?" 

Bellara blinks. "His what?" 

Rook pinches the bridge of her nose. "Never mind. That was a no." 

"Mphff," Bellara replies as her eyebrows are promptly seared off. 

****

She doesn’t mean to stare at Bellara’s not-dad, but, well, here she is. Staring. Very accidentally, of course. Completely unintentional. It’s just—he’s her colleague now, and Bellara is her friend, and who could have possibly predicted that she’d one day reunite with Bellara only to find out that her not-dad was someone she’d end up working in—er, under—uh, near. In close proximity. Adjacent to. 

At the very least, Rook thinks, the Mourn Watch dresses excellently. Or maybe Emmrich Volkarin just has an aesthetic because the man doesn’t walk—he floats. His coattails are so long and dramatic that every step he takes looks like he’s being ceremoniously carried by the souls of the damned. Which, given the necromancy, is not off the table. 

They’ve been at this for, what, three months now? A season. A quarter of a year. Long enough for her to cycle through every possible thought about him and then loop back around for seconds. 

Oh, he’s so polite and well-spoken, she thought at first, when he shook her hand with all the enthusiasm of a professor greeting a particularly promising student.

Oh, he’s a fucking creep, she thought upon learning he had adopted Bellara under circumstances that sounded alarmingly vague.

Oh, well, maybe not a total menace, she thought after Bellara’s half-baked explanation, which made it sound only mildly suspicious rather than deeply, horrifyingly illegal.

Oh, he smells good, she thought during her first week as he escorted her through the Necropolis, his hand casually redirecting hers away from things that would almost certainly kill her, and books that, to her absolute dismay, were not only sentient but also carnivorous.

Oh, he’s rather suave, she thought over the next few weeks, as he took her through Nevarra City, treated her to a hot drink, and assured her that she was always, always welcome to seek his assistance.

Oh, he’s handsome, she thought immediately after—so immediately that her brain barely had time to pretend it had arrived at the thought by accident. And he’s old enough to be her father, but mostly handsome, and the moustache is unreasonably attractive, and the height is even worse, and she should really, really not be thinking about any of this, and yet here she is, thinking about all of this.

"Rook!" Emmrich exclaims one incredibly random, incredibly uneventful day while she is, unfortunately, very busy looking at his hands. "Bellara tells me you have a particularly sweet tooth!" 

She does not. She would die for pickles. She would haunt this plane for pickles. "Yes," she lies. 

"Splendid!" he says, bringing his hands together and clasping them tightly. "Then you must visit us soon. I have recently come into possession of some wildflower honey—oh, it is exquisite, truly, the product of a most diligent colony. The foragers in particular have demonstrated remarkable efficiency this season, and I suspect the local flora has been unusually accommodating due to the recent shift in temperature." 

"Right, well—" 

"—Which, of course, brings me to the worker bees," he continues. "Fascinating creatures, Rook. Did you know they regulate hive temperature by vibrating their wing muscles? And the social structure! Unparalleled efficiency! Every single one of them understands their role perfectly—unlike certain apprentices I have had the misfortune of instructing." 

Rook opens her mouth. "That's—" 

"—And then there is the queen," he barrels forward, adjusting his cuffs. "A singular force within the colony, capable of laying thousands of eggs in a single day. A most demanding role, truly. Yet she is fed and attended to with such devotion! Such order! Such discipline! If only more societies followed such an impeccable model, we might see—" 

"Bees?" 

Emmrich finally pauses, as if just now remembering she exists. "Indeed, bees. What is so odd about them?" 

A slow nod. "Nothing. Just bees." 

Ah. Yes. Silly Rook. Silly, ridiculous, absolutely pathetic Rook who somehow failed to anticipate that obviously necromancy and beekeeping go hand in hand. Because why wouldn’t the man who commands the dead also spend his free time whispering encouragement to a bunch of little winged bugs? 

She forces a smile. "I'd love to see your bees," she glances at his hands, "Professor Volkarin," she glances at his crotch. 

"Wonderful," Emmrich replies, fingers moving ethusiastically. "Now, then. That is maudlin enough. Shall we return to our work? I regret to inform you that the integument of this dearly departed is well beyond viable preservation. A pity, of course, but such is the nature of decomposition. We cannot embalm everyone, though that does not mean we are without recourse in matters of preservation." 

Rook stares at his mustache. "Mm-hm."

"It is but a matter of methodology. Acid or dermestid beetles?" 

Dear gods—Tevene, elven, Andrastian, it hardly matters—she is, at this very moment, experiencing an overwhelmingly physiological reaction to the prospect of engaging in relations with a man who is, quite literally, vibrating with enthusiasm at the idea of either meticulously excoriating a cadaver or observing the natural efficiency of insect-assisted tissue removal. 

Rook supposes there are worse wet dreams to have, worse ways to absolutely wreck her underwear. But if there are, they’re only marginally worse. A fraction. A hair’s breadth. What could be more concerning than getting embarrassingly, shamefully worked up over a man who talks about corpse preservation with the same breathless enthusiasm most people reserve for poetry? 

She should be ashamed. She should be reconsidering her entire life. Instead, she’s two seconds away from letting him embalm her from the inside out.

****

Bellara's eyebrows have mostly grown back.

She’s eating a sweetroll and staring blankly out the window. “What is your not-dad doing?” 

Bellara shrugs. "Something with bees. Oh, I don’t know. Emmrich’s taken with them. He cycles through hobbies. Manfred’s a big help though! He can’t be stung. Because he’s a skeleton.”

“Yeah,” Rook says, chewing, watching. “I get that.” 

She does not get that. Mostly because she's not really listening. 

This is getting fucking ridiculous. 

Out in the garden, Emmrich Volkarin, a senior necromancer of the Mourn Watch, a man tasked with managing the corpses and souls of the dead, a man whose entire job is death, is delicately tending to his thriving apiary. 

I wish he was fingering me instead of that honeycomb, she thinks. 

And then: Actually, no, I wish he was doing both. 

For the first time in her entire life, she thinks she would gladly, enthusiastically, joyously welcome a yeast infection.

Forget a locket, forget a pressed flower between the pages of a book—this would be her keepsake. A souvenir of her reckless devotion, a parting gift from a lover who, in this scenario, has not gone off to war but rather retreated indoors to alphabetize his collection of sentient, bloodthirsty tomes and, of course, check on his precious bees. And instead of a love letter, she'd get an ungodly amount of discomfort, a medicated salve, and a firm recommendation to avoid sugar for a while.

Or, she could just walk off a pier and let the ocean absolve her of whatever the fuck this is.

"Bellara," Rook says after clearing her throat, because she needs to clear something before she says this, preferably her entire fucking soul. "I don’t really know how to tell you this. But. Like. I’m going to fuck your not-dad." 

Bellara pours herself a cup of tea. "Oh." 

"While his bees watch." 

Bellara chews. Swallows. Looks at the wall. "Yeah, they do that. They're bees." 

****

It doesn’t get that far, mostly because Emmrich is self-conscious. Not about himself, not about his station or his dignity. Instead, he is deeply, tragically preoccupied with the goddamn bees. 

There’s a great deal of nervous glancing, a fair amount of softly muttered hesitation, and at least two instances of him clearing his throat as if that might somehow dissolve the situation entirely. Meanwhile, Rook, having very graciously cornered him in his own garden (while Bellara is mercifully elsewhere), informs him, quite politely, that she is going to ride him until his very narrow hips give out. Or, if that’s too much for his delicate sensibilities, she is happy, delighted, even, to let him make use of those long, elegant fingers instead. 

Or—and—and this is the option they end up going for—she can simply kneel and suck the very essence of his being out through his very academic, very esteemed cock. 

"Ah—yes—well," Emmrich says before trailing off. His hands twitch at his sides, his jaw tightens, but it is the unmistakable way he keeps looking at the beehive, as though his tiny buzzing witnesses might be horrified by this development, that really seals it. 

"Your, ah, interest is certainly reciprocated, my dear," he continues, voice smooth but just a bit strained, "but—oh—perhaps—oh—we might consider a more… traditional approach? A courtship, if you will? A proper engagement with dinner, and wine, and—Maker help me—a door that closes?" 

"Hmpf," Rook says, pulling her mouth off his cock before deciding that, truly, there is nothing worth saying to that. 

She sincerely hopes a bee stings him right in the ass so that he stops waxing poetic about the sanctity of romance and just concentrates on fucking her mouth, this handsome, ridiculous, too-tall, too-suave, insufferably sweet, bee-obsessed, not-dad of a man. 

[butterfly--empress]

And Another Thing...

Because actually, the more I think about it, the more it just pisses me off...

If The main writer wanted this to just be a simple formulaic "magical girl powa" kids show that sells merch. With no overarching story plot.

MLB could've just simply BEEN that. A cutesy Sailor Moon inspired story!

MLB could've just BEEN an all female superhero team with Marinette as leader, Alya second in command, and Chloe and/or Kagami being her love rivals/friends for Adrien's affections.

And Adrien could literally just BE THE DAMN LUKEWARM LOVE INTEREST that she wins in the end. Because the Deuteragonist of this show, sure as shit ain't been him since at least S4, let's be so for real.

Nothing against Alya, I love her, but girlfriend has overshadowed what used to be Adrien's role.

But in this version of MLB, being an all girl team of superheroes with a secret identity. Marinette's absurd 'whacky' antics in this show could easily be ignored/deflected/handwaved away, if we never knew much about Adrien outside of him being a popular, good looking rich kid, whom Marinette crushes on and daydreams about often.

And TA doesn't have to twist himself into a pretzel to defend his poor writing choices, when the only POV that matters is Marinette's.

There would be no need for the lore, or vaguely changing it when he feels like it. Or worrying about the unnecessary drama of the whole 'they can't know each others identities' main plot that has all become meaningless.

The original main plot of the whole secret identities for romantic drama and the reason many of us were drawn to this show to BEGIN WITH, is moot when the writer constantly refuses to do ANYTHING with the setup he writes for himself.

He won't let none of his characters have any real development and growth and only seems to care about ONE-HALF of the original two man team.

And I'm over it. 4 episodes and a lame ass Special that literally excuses the main heroine's reasons for LYING to her One True Love has shown me this show is NOT interested in doing anything beyond what it's given.

All of us invested or holding your breath for any real progress with the romantic/main subplot are going to be waiting for naught.

I was already convinced but now I'm certain:

There will never be a big reveal. And if there is one, it'll be purposely left to the VERY end of the series. And it won't even be satisfying.

Nothing will EVER be done with the Lie. Why should it? Marinette finally has the boy she wants, and even if it ever got addressed, the writer would handle it in the most contrived way possible that somehow excuses Marinette's decision anyway.

How much you wanna bet, he'll just end up retconning his own story to SOMEHOW scapegoat Marinette's bullshit to be Lila's fault?

Or Chloe's? Because even when she's not around, not in the same school, city, or even country, the writer STILL finds a way to hate on Chloe.

No...wait even better! Adrien finally finds out and to avoid allowing Marinette to own up to her fucking mistake/betrayal of trust, she decides to 'sacrifice' her memories and being Ladybug...and oh my fucking god.

......This is why TA had Marinette entrust Alya as the new leader isn't it? He thinks he's so goddamn clever!

Marinette's gonna fuck up big time in this season and then get temporary or semi-permanent amnesia to forget EVERYTHING to avoid owning up to her mistakes?

And instead of people seeing the manipulative writing to handwave away how she's been very selfish and self-centered, and her need to control everything. People are going to praise TA for believing or redeeming her bad decisions/behavior on how much she was finally willing to 'sacrifice' herself for a change for Adrien.

*groans*....god this sounds even worse.

You know what, this post had a point and I spiraled again.

Oh yeah...MLB should've just been another inspired typical 5 teamed magical girl knock off because hoping the writer does anything worthwhile with his Deuteragonist, is just waiting for Levithan to reveal itself from the deep, dank, ocean depths, and in this timeline the world's in rn, that's actually more plausible than hoping for meaningful character arcs after 6 seasons of MLB...

[taleya15]

"Just friends"

*Ring*

*Ring*

*Ring *

"Nothing. Again. Great." Mike sighed against the wall of his basement. He hates when Joyce is working, which is constantly now. He rings up Dustin to complain. Because Lucas is at basketball practice like always. So Dustin is all Mike has now. It's weird because Will used to be the person Mike would go to so he can complain and rant to. Now Will's mom is the reason he complains. Dustin is quick to answer like always, and for a moment Mike feels grateful.

"No answer?"

"Nope. Nothing. I'll try again in an hour, but for now! What the actual fuck dude! I hate Joyce's job! It's so stupid that I basically have to schedule a meeting with my best friend!"

"I know. I know man. I'm sorry."

Mike sighs out but doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Thanks for trying though man."

"Of course man. But hey listen I gotta go, my mom's calling me up. She wants a new cat."

"Oh. Haha have fun."

"I won't. See ya man."

"See ya!" With the sound of the hanging up beep, Mike sighs again and walks to the couch. He plops down dramatically and starts thinking. He hates this so much. All he wants to do is at least talk to Will. The only thing that can calm him down in a bad mood is Will. El helps when she can, but Will is the only one who can fix it completely.

He hates that too. He hates that the only person who can calm him down is the person he can never reach. He hates that he can't go to his girlfriend about this. She could only understand and help so much. But Will.. he understands everything Mike says. Sometimes Mike wishes Will was a girl. Then maybe it'd be easier, but he loves El. At least he thinks he does anyway. Eventually he realizes the time and realizes the full hour has passed. An hour of self loathing and anxiety. Great another one.

Mike gets up again and goes to the phone. He almost doesn't pick it up. He almost just leaves it alone and goes to sulk for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time. But something in him tells him to try again. Maybe it's his stubbornness, or his desire to talk to Will that does it. But he picks the phone up anyway and while he puts the number in he gets a weird rush of Deja Vu. But he pushes on and listens to ring of the phone. It's five rings later and he almost hangs up. But then there’s a different sound, a pause then the sound of the phones connecting.

"Hello, Byers residents. Joyce speaking."

"Oh! Joyce hey!"

"Mike? Oh hi hun! Haven't heard from you in a while! What's going on? How's school going?"

"Uh. Yeah school's great thanks."

"Right! Silly me! You're calling for Will aren't you?"

"Haha yes ma'am I am. Is he there?"

"Yes! I'll put him on now!"

There's a muffled sound of Joyce's voice then there's something different that happens.

"Uh hello?" Will answers the phone seemingly confused. His voice seems deeper, like three octaves deeper. It surprises Mike for a moment, but he pushes past his initial thoughts and speaks to him. Finally.

"Will!"

"Mike! Hey man! How- how are you? I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Yeah. Yeah I know sorry man." I tried calling you, like every day. But that sentence dies in his throat. He wouldn't dare say that out loud. He'll sound like a wimp.

"That-that's ok! How's it going?"

"Um. It- it's fine thanks. How um how is it for you?"

“... good. Are you sure you're ok? You can tell me." Great. He saw right through it like aways.

"I- I just honestly had a terrible day today." He sighs uncomfortably he really doesn't want to elaborate. But he knows he has to.

"Oh I'm sorry what happened?" Mike sighs again and thinks of something to say. He can't say the real reason why. He can barely admit to himself the real reason.

"Oh. Um I got a bad grade on my exam today." That actually was true, he did get a really bad grade on an exam today in math. But he honestly didn't care about that. He couldn't care less about it, but it was the only thing he could think to say.

"Oh man! I'm sorry I understand, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I- I don't know right now."

"Well I can distract you."

"That sounds great actually."

For the next ten minutes Will talks about anything that he can think of. Mike mostly listens, but he loves the conversation. He feels at ease for the first time all day. And for a moment, a single moment he wishes he could tell Will what he's desperately wanting to tell him. He's dying to confess to him, to say 'Will, I'm so desperately in love with you. I wish I could be with you, I don't care about El. She's nothing to me, because I can't have you.’ But instead he just listens and reminds himself that they're "just friends". And Mike would never dare ask Will his feelings either.

Because he's convinced that Will's straight, but is he?

[atopvisenyashill]

I'm not debating dark!Dany, because I think there's a lot of things that point towards that as well as a lot of things that don't, so I could easily see it going either way at this point. But I don't understand people characterizing Dany killing Mirri Maz Duur as "she burned her slave to death" because that had zero bearing on the situation? She doesn't burn her because she's a slave, she burns her for murdering her son, and if any other character had murdered her son, it seems pretty obvious that she would react the exact same way. And personally, that's a fully understandable and reasonable reaction to someone killing your child.

I've been seeing this characterization a lot recently, and you're someone who's takes I really enjoy, so I wanted to ask you why you specifically see it that way because it's a very confusing viewpoint to me.

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

“mirri killed her son” is devoid of the context that mirri is a slave though. that boy in the above text is a child, younger than dany. the slaves are adults, like Mirri. and like Mirri, in their anger, when given the option to harm someone who enslaved them, they chose harm, and they killed his family. if you were to describe it out of context “he doesn’t hate them because they are slaves he hates them because they murdered his family and raped his mom” it sounds awful. but when you factor in the power dynamic at hand it suddenly becomes uncomfortable and much more complex as a situation.

mirri, just like those slaves, is only in this situation because she is a slave. dany has the power to order her burned because she is a master. it’s absolutely relevent to the situation because the only reason this situation exists is because dany owns slaves and mirri is one of the slaves she owns.

let's take a comparison here - jon isn't a classist prick to pyp, grenn, small paul, and all the other boys, they're bullying him. that sounds like a wild thing to say but it's not wrong. they are bullying him, they are making fun of him because he is a bastard who should "know his place" underneath the people like alliser thorne and they enable alliser's behavior towards him with the repeated use of the "lord snow" nickname. but as tyrion points out the bullying is not devoid of context - in fact the context is more important because it explains the aggressive behavior. in reality, pyp, grenn, and small paul don't really care that much about jon being a bastard, they just don't like being made to feel like they're idiots and jon's prickly behavior does just that. it doesnt really matter that jon is being prickly because thorne is purposefully antagonizing him over being a bastard because ultimately, what the boys see is jon's class status and an attitude that strikes them as arrogant. the moment he starts using his prickliness in defense of them rather than against them, that trio becomes his devoted friends - and while people like chett and thorne really do care about the fact that jon is a bastard, as we see in chett's prologue chapter, chett is also very bothered by the fact that sam is immensely privileged and can read better because of it. is it sam's fault that he was born privileged? no. and yet his privilege results in a loss of station for chett and it leads chett down an abysmal and dark path. yes chett is responsible for his own decisions. but you cannot divorce chett's bitterness from the fact that he is lowborn and sam is highborn. it's not about "well chett is mean" it's about one person having immense privilege and one person being born in the dirt. it's not about "well dany would have killed mirri even if she wasn't a slave" it's about how dany was born with a fancy last name and mirri is raped repeatedly and watches everything she has built be destroyed directly because of something dany wants to do.

beyond that. i think that rhaego’s death is actually much more complicated than a cut and dry “mirri murdered dany’s son so dany burned her alive.” mirri does not act maliciously towards dany until after everything is said and done - because she does not have ill intent. no she isn’t selflessly helping dany. rather she is hoping to alleviate the humiliation and danger with being a slave by making herself useful. this meta here is a good breakdown of the entire situation from mirri's pov but look at what mirri is doing and saying, what she's actually doing, and not just dany's confused thoughts.

One of them, a thick-bodied, flat-nosed woman of forty years, blessed Dany haltingly in the Common Tongue, but from the others she got only flat black stares. They were suspicious of her, she realized with sadness; afraid that she had saved them for some worse fate.

“Silver Lady,” a woman’s voice said behind her, “I can help the Great Rider with his hurts. " Dany turned her head. The speaker was one of the slaves she had claimed, the heavy, flat-nosed woman who had blessed her.

Mirri Maz Duur studied Drogo, her face still and dead. "The wound has festered."

Mirri Maz Duur came with her, eyes heavy from sleep. “Drink,” she said, lifting Dany’s head to the cup once more, but this time it was only wine. Sweet, sweet wine. Dany drank, and lay back, listening to the soft sound of her own breathing. She could feel the heaviness in her limbs, as sleep crept in to fill her up once more. “Bring me …” she murmured, her voice slurred and drowsy. “Bring … I want to hold …” “Yes?” the maegi asked. “What is it you wish, Khaleesi?”

“You knew,” Dany said when they were gone. She ached, inside and out, but her fury gave her strength. “You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and yet you let me pay it.” “It was wrong of them to burn my temple,” the heavy, flat-nosed woman said placidly. “That angered the Great Shepherd.”

“It is not enough to kill a horse,” she told Dany. “By itself, the blood is nothing. You do not have the words to make a spell, nor the wisdom to find them. Do you think bloodmagic is a game for children? You call me maegias if it were a curse, but all it means is wise. You are a child, with a child’s ignorance. Whatever you mean to do, it will not work. Loose me from these bonds and I will help you.”

i don’t think she poisoned drogo. i think she attempted to help him to appease dany, because she doesn't want to be resold, & drogo doesn’t follow her directions. i think she’s actually very upset as it starts to sink in that drogo, to steal a tyrion line, is not just vicious he’s a vicious idiot.

and then dany asks her to do some pretty serious and dangerous magic. mirri gives dany very clear instructions.

“The time for that is past, my lady,” Mirri said. “All I can do now is ease the dark road before him, so he might ride painless to the night lands. He will be gone by morning.” Her words were a knife through Dany’s breast. What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? She had finally found a safe place, had finally tasted love and hope. She was finally going home. And now to lose it all … “No,” she pleaded. “Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …”

Mirri Maz Duur sat back on her heels and studied Daenerys through eyes as black as night. “There is a spell.” Her voice was quiet, scarcely more than a whisper. “But it is hard, lady, and dark. Some would say that death is cleaner. I learned the way in Asshai, and paid dear for the lesson. My teacher was a bloodmage from the Shadow Lands.” “You must. Once I begin to sing, no one must enter this tent. My song will wake powers old and dark. The dead will dance here this night. No living man must look on them.”

jorah does not listen.

dany is right, mirri is trying to teach her but while mirri certainly sets a trap and knows very well if it goes off people are going to die, i think framing her as an evil conniving witch who got killed ONLY because she is partially responsible for rhaego’s death, completely ignores mirri’s frame of mind and the precarious situation she is forced into by dany herself. she is a slave. she is dany's slave. you cannot divorce that from what dany does to her or what she does to dany.

[fandom-susceptible]

TDP Rewatch: S1 E3, "Moonrise"

It's interesting that they zoomed on Soren's face as the procession crossed the courtyard, not Harrow's - and that he didn't look nervous, just determined. He was right, too.

God, Harrow cuddling with his bird is the cutest thing. That bird adores him. Also, (who gives the best birdie kisses) "Pip Does." was said so fiercely and then the face he made after, I just. Ah, that hit me in the chest.

How is "hard-headed" more acceptable in your vernacular than "stubborn", Viren? Or are you just the only one you want to be insulting Harrow in public?

It's interesting how Viren's smiling in the coronation portrait, but Harrow isn't. Viren says Harrow insisted on doing the portrait together, but I . . . have my doubts, now.

Yeah honestly Claudia we're on the same page about the persimmon jelly.

Something about how Ezran doesn't hesitate to trust Rayla, and when she kneels in front of the egg she looks at him so softly even though ten minutes ago she was convinced he had to die - and then Claudia, whom Ezran has known his entire life, threatens violence immediately and just keeps spouting threats while trying to get him to cooperate with her. They showed us who these girls were from the very beginning; Claudia acts sweet but in the moment of truth will turn cruel, and Rayla projects coldness but in the moment of truth will offer love instead. It's a neat mirror. And I love the way Rayla smiles at Ezran when he looks to her for reassurance in that very first moment in Viren's dungeon. That moment of yes, I'm with you.

They really sell being teenagers in this first season, and I love it. "NOT THAT WAY!" "WHY?" *runs into wall* "Is this a guessing game? Just do it!" "I'M A MAGE!" *shushes him* "Nobody likes a loud mage."

Also, can we talk about how the first time Rayla actually touched Callum was to shush him in that moment? And how she was the first person to call him a mage? And how she then proceeded to tell him something she's clearly said before, which when I first watched I assumed was just a common saying/joke in Xadia, but after finding out Ethari is a mage might be a family in-joke? Yeah I've got Rayllum feelings why

"What's in the basket? A bigger moth?" omg Soren is SUCH a sarcastic little shit around Viren and I love that for him????

Also, "When all of your swords have failed." is such a clear attempt to undermine Soren's personal confidence, and the worst part is I bet Viren didn't even do it consciously. He's just so used to tearing Soren down that he doesn't have to think about it anymore, it's become automatic. It's a really common trait of abusive parents and I hate him so much for it. (obligatory acknowledgement that I actually love it as a writing choice, it's great. He is a bad guy! I am supposed to dislike him! They did a good job!) But also, Soren responding to it with a spiteful defense of his soldiers was a good moment for him.

"We go way back! Like that one time, ten minutes ago, when you chased me through the castle trying to stab me!" Bless Jack De Sena for Callum's voice acting and also bless whoever animated his and Rayla's expressions in that exchange because I am fucking wheezing

Can we talk about how Harrow's tone was coldly neutral until Viren walked in and sat in Harrow's marriage bed, uninvited, and then the next thing he said - "Your friend?" sounded venomous? Or that fucking single eyebrow raised when Viren said "brother". Harrow is WELL aware that his best friend has a weird gay thing about him, and he regrets not nipping that in the bud before it became this unhealthy obsession.

Yeah that whole "On. Your. Knees." does not get less gay with subsequent rewatches. Like bruh. They showed this to kids. Harrow. I stg. But also, Harrow sees Viren's weird gay obsession and meets his freak by putting him down about it, in a way that they both know he wouldn't if he actually returned it with any kind of affection. Oh, I think all Harrow's dialogue about Viren's arrogance and self-importance was very much also what he meant, I don't think he was talking around anything, but yeah, that was. Wow.

Also ngl Harrow can tell me to do anything he goddamn wants if he talks in that tone, jesus

Interesting. Okay so Runaan does say that humans are liars - he doesn't say there's nothing worth sparing, as Rayla seemed to imply. He's been tricked before. That said, for all he talks a big game about his ruthlessness, he doesn't just shoot Callum outright. He warns him that he's made a mistake and he very much takes his time nocking that arrow. He doesn't want to kill this kid if he doesn't have to.

I also love that one moment where his eyes go wide after Rayla tells him again he needs to call off the mission, in the middle of "You know it doesn't work that way." He glances down at his own bindings and he looks panicked for half a second before covering it in this sudden anger that doesn't quite fit with how he reacted to the egg's appearance. He's scared. He knows she's right, but he's much older, more set in his ways, and doesn't see a way out. He's fucked up. So he just tries to fall back on what he's Supposed to do - just finish the mission, worry about the egg later, because those are the rules.

And then Rayla sends the boys away and forces him to confront those values instead of just falling back on them. Now he doesn't get to separate himself and his feelings from reality. And I don't think she actually believes he'll kill her here, even though he threatens to and she smirks and says "Probably" - if he was willing to do that, he would have done it already, and they both know it. She's just forcing him to confront the conflict between his moral values and his cultural ones.

oh, god, I forgot that Ezran brought up Callum calling him Dad in the very first episode.

I think it's interesting how Runaan accuses Rayla of being "Better than this" while very obviously holding back. He keeps pausing. Rayla's constantly in motion in this fight, whether attacking or defending or just trying to catch her breath, but he attacks once and then waits for her to recover, defends once and freezes up. He can't do this. Now he's the one hesitating and he can't stop doing it. Rayla has to know this too - that's why she sasses him when he realizes she's just stalling, because she knows she's gotten into his head. She knows he can't stop her because he can't bring himself to hurt her. So if she can just call on the fatherly part of him a little more, maybe she can get him on her side. It just doesn't quite work, because he's too set in his ways and his teenage daughter's wild idea is not enough to convince him that turning the entire world upside down is possible.

Do you think Viren had a moment of abject panic when Callum said "I know what you did!" after he came out of Harrow's chambers after switching the king's soul out with Pip's? Like HOW THE FUCK DOES THE KID KNOW, I LITERALLY JUST DID - "You stole the egg of the Dragon Pricne!" oh nvm. wait, what. why does he know that, who - what the fuck is happening right now?

Soren insisting Callum is the prince and refusing to arrest him is another good moment for him. Bless that young man for trying so hard. But also, Viren taking Callum's voice was awful on so many levels, and Soren's lack of surprise makes that one hurt??? Because. Viren had that spell just right there in his sleeve. He constantly undermines and dismisses Soren. Now he's using it so casually on the prince. Has he done this to Soren before? Is that why Soren's face just went so stony and he refused to say anything else after that? Viren is just such a fundamentally awful person and I love to hate him.

Knowing more about the assassins has me watching this scene with so much interest now. It's Runaan's arrow that hits Soren first, but Skor's the first through the door - two blades and brute strength. Ram hits the ground next, going low with no visible weapons, with Callisto and Andromeda flanking him with Callisto's glaive and Andromeda's sickles. Runaan brings up the rear with a bow, and honestly? He's walking in with his horns already at heights Ram and Andromeda leaped to get to, moving the slowest of any of them, not curling in or dodging or anything. He's just strode in leaving himself wide open because fuck you, I guess, what does this bitch have to worry about? That's terrifying.

The fucking "DA!" He does does undercut the intimidation as a viewer tho now I'm just laughing at him because his actor clearly was not out of breath or stressed when delivering that.

I've never noticed before that the elves reacted to Viren's spell releasing Callum's voice. Or that Soren moved between Viren and recovering control of the spell. Skor stepped back from a fight and glanced towards the spell, got distracted by it. Callisto ducked as if he thought it was coming towards him. Ram and Andromeda didn't twitch but Runaan bridled at it too.

Callisto was the first to reach the door but couldn't break it open and Soren went for him. The assassins converge on the door and Soren manages to hold off Callisto, Ram, and Andromeda all at once for a moment before Skor and Runaan step in. Runaan just wholly grabs a guard by the face and throws them to the ground with his bare hands (well, gloved, but weaponless). As in like. Picks them up off the floor and slams them back down one-handed by the face. I know he's an antagonist right now and like we like the guards in Katolis they're fine but also the sheer ability to do that is hot I'm so sorry.

When the elves press the door again after Callum calls for "Dad!" it's Skor to the left, Runaan, and Callisto to the right, and Runaan has zeroed in on Soren as the greatest obstacle to their goals. He's bigger than Soren, has an advantage in height, weight, strength, and experience, and he's bearing down on him but losing time, and Ram ends up lunging in to try and take Soren out while Runaan has him distracted. And it doesn't work, Soren manages to block them both at once. He's genuinely very good at his fucking job and I hate that Viren tore him down so much he doesn't see it.

Oh, fuck. Andromeda was the first elf to fall. We don't see her after the first clash at the door breaks free. Ram disappears briefly but returns at Runaan's side, everyone's converging on the door again, but she's gone.

Rayla's so quickly ride or die for these boys and this mission, and I love her so much for it. "Say the word, and I'll go back into that tower with ye." And she meant it. But she'll also guard them on their way out, when that's what they choose to do instead.

Can we also address that Soren's losing guards left and right to the clash in this tower, and Viren is RIGHT THERE, able to do random magic like stealing the voice from a kid, but he doesn't do a thing to assist in the actual battle? Absolutely nothing to help his son in their alleged shared goal of defending the king?

Runaan stumbles through clutching his side, and given the wounds we see later, I'm guessing Soren kicked him in the ribs to get out of one of their sword locks and broke them. He also can't breathe right. There's a bruise on his jaw and we saw from how Soren fought with Ram (and how he fights later) that he's willing to just punch people with his other hand while he's got them distracted with his sword. I'm betting most of his injuries are from Soren, including the broken horn. We don't see that part happen. I'm actually gonna, once this episode is over, skip ahead to the season 7 finale briefly to see Runaan's retelling of this scene, because I'm curious about those moments between that we missed here.

the binding also doesn't fall off until he reaches the balcony. Pip/Harrow wasn't killed instantly; he just succumbed quickly to what I'm betting was the poison on Runaan's arrow.

The face he gives after releasing the arrow hits, though, because he's reporting a failure. I'm also very interested in like, what he thought would happen for Rayla here. I would have guessed initially that his "Your justice will come later." was meant as him realizing if she stops them, if they fail, she'll suffer becoming a Ghost, but he's surprised by the news in season 7. Did he just assume there wouldn't be a unanimous vote to ghost her? It would sort of make sense; there's a certain amount of arrogance he clearly has regarding his own place in the Silvergrove, and a lot of it's justified by how the community treats him and Ethari. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to guess that as his daughter and a clearly talented and relatively respectable warrior in her own right, there would be at least a few voices who were reluctant to abandon her entirely, even if she'd have to live with the same of losing her hand to her failure. That's a thing I don't think we give enough credit to, either, is the fact that Ghosting has to be a unanimous decision and therefore, not everyone in Rayla's position ends up ghosted. That's why the bindings are there. She'd have had to sacrifice her hand, but if she was respected enough to begin with to escape a ghosting, that would have been it. She'd pay her price and still get to go home.

Claudia appearing just to insist "we can find more practical uses for this one" gives me the creeps. Like "she sees Runaan and sees spell parts, not a person" kind of creeps.

I'm so very fond of this credits sketch, because it shows just how long Runaan has been in her life. Rayla was 8 when she moved in with him and Ethari - she's clearly younger than that here, and he's already there teaching her things, so clearly fond of her.

It also shows how her facial markings have changed over time; in this sketch we can see that the slash mark used to go both above her brow and below her eye, presumably unbroken (Lain's across the eye markings also cover his eyelids, so stands to reason hers would too). The curve below her eye is also different, where Runaan's remains consistent in this sketch to the show.

I could comment on her reaction to losing Harrow's binding but honestly like. That's been analyzed to death for six years straight. I don't really feel the need to go over something that's been addressed repeatedly in the show already.

Addition after checking the story in Season 7, so don't read further if you haven't seen that yet:

Runaan's horn was not broken yet when he broke into the room. Skor was the only one who made it in after him. So the other assassins may never have seen Harrow at all, and the fighting after the poisoned arrow hit Pip could have lasted for a while, justifying Runaan's ability to vault into the room initially but also barely being able to stumble out onto the balcony in the end.

So Andromeda died before they even got the door open. Skor followed Runaan through the door, but we don't see Callisto or Ram after that point, so they may or may not have made it that far. I would guess that Runaan's grievous injuries were likely due to fighting virtually on his own for an extended period of time, and the brief time he got to send off the shadowhawk was Skor's last sacrifice, keeping them busy for long enough to do that.

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 12

Masterlist - Previous - Next

The Heartbreak Prince

"You’re staring…" Joris smirked and Charles immediately averted his gaze from Lauren.

"I’m just checking how much longer the food will take… I’m hungry." he said, looking back down into his book.

"Oh yeah you are hungry… but not for food." his best friend laughed.

"Stop it." Charles groaned.

"What? Am I wrong? Don’t think I didn’t see you adjusting your shorts when Lauren shows up wearing nothing but a bikini… especially the red one, that’s your favourite…"

Charles grabbed the pillow next to him and smashed it against his best friend’s face.

"I said stop it." he jumped up, leaving Joris behind who just chuckled.

Charles hastily walked inside, grabbing a cold water from the fridge and then left the kitchen again when Lauren called out his name.

"Are you okay?" her voice soft as he turned around.

"Sure, why you’re asking?"

"It sounded like you and Joris were arguing a little…"

"Wh-… no. No it’s fine, he’s just his normal annoying self…" Charles scratched the back of his neck, trying to look as comfortable and normal as possible.

"Oh. Okay… well, umm-… lunch is almost ready…" Lauren smiled at him and he nodded.

"Perfect, I’m starving! I just go and check on Ava, she was a little grumpy earlier." he walked off, straight into his bedroom.

The last days went by in a blur and with every new day he felt more and more drawn to Lauren. Everything felt natural with her. She fitted into his family like she always belonged to it. Everyone loved her. He understood why his mother was so full of praise for her. She was amazing. Funny and witty, bold but then again shy and sweet, always trying to make everyone feel good. Always trying to make everyone smile. And the way she took care of Ava made his heart almost burst. She was so loving and gentle with her. On the second day, after feeding her, Ava spit up all over her shoulder and back, but Lauren only laughed, cooing at her what a wonderful job she just did. She was always calm, making Ava no matter how fuzzy she was calm down as well. His mother called her a baby whisperer which Lauren only waved off but Charles agreed. She was a baby whisperer.

"Hey little princess… are you in a better mood now?" Charles leaned down, blowing raspberries at her and she began to happily babble "Yes you are… come on… let’s get you out of here… but first… new diaper… yep, definitely…"

10 minutes later he walked into the kitchen, a freshly changed Ava in his arms.

"Oh, hello little Miss Sunshine!" Lauren smiled at them and Ava began to wiggle in her father’s arms, chortling at her.

"Looks like she wants her favourite person to hold her…" Arthur joked when he grabbed the plates "And sadly it’s not me anymore…"

"You were never her favourite…" Charles rolled his eyes.

"Exactly that was me!" Pascale and Lorenzo said in unison and they laughed.

"Does anyone here consider me as her favourite?"

"You’ll always be her favourite… you’re her dad after all… there’s a special bond between you…" Lauren reassured him, washing her hands.

"Thank you, Lauren. Consider yourself my favourite person as well!" Charles said loudly, making his mother and brothers laugh, but when he looked at Lauren drying her hands he saw her cheeks being slightly flushed. He pretended like he didn’t notice and held Ava out to her and that beautiful smile made its way onto her face, lighting it up "Could you hold her for a moment? I have to go to the bathroom…"

"You don’t have to ask me twice!" she replied smiling at Ava who immediately snuggled into her, starting to play with Lauren’s necklace.

Charles walked back to his room, when he heard his phone ring. One quick glance and he already knew who called, making him groan. They couldn’t even let him have this family trip without bothering him. He picked up the phone, trying to stay calm.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Mr. Leclerc, and here I thought you lost your phone…" Cleo Bernoit.

"No, I haven’t. I’m just currently enjoying my summer break. Spending some well needed time with my daughter and family."

"That’s nice to hear. That’s exactly why I’m calling you. You and your daughter."

"What about me and my daughter?"

"Mr. Leclerc, we’ve talked about this. We just want what’s best for Ava. That’s what we told your lawyer as well, by the way…" she sounded annoyed.

"My lawyer only acts in my interest…"

"Making us sign NDA’s is in your interest? Why?"

"As you know, my life isn’t exactly quiet. Often I’m being followed by photographers and fans. I don’t want them to find out about Ava. Not yet when she’s this little. I have to protect her from the public’s eye. And with every person who knows about her, it’s more likely to come out that I have a daughter. So yes, letting you and everyone who has contact with me and therefore Ava sign a NDA is in my interest."

"That’s debatable but for now irrelevant. As soon as you’re back from your vacation, we’d like to visit you at home. We want to see how Ava’s days look like when you’re at home, or rather when you’re not at home…"

"When I’m coming back from my vacation the summer break is over and I have to work again…" Charles replied.

"Well, then I guess we pay your mother a visit… listen, Mr. Leclerc, you may not believe this, but as I explained to you already last week, we only want what’s best for Ava. We want her to grow up in a stable and safe environment. If you can provide that, you have nothing to worry about. Have a nice vacation." the CPS worker hung up, leaving Charles staring at his phone in silence for a while.

They already told him why they think his job isn’t the most suitable for a single father in the hospital and at last week’s call. He knew explaining it to them wouldn’t change their opinion. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t tell anyone about it besides his lawyer. Too scared to think much about it. What if they would decide he wasn’t a good enough father and took Ava away from him? What if he lost custody of her? All these thoughts were swirling inside his head, making him feel dizzy. His chest began to hurt, he felt his breathing constrict the more he thought about Ava being taken away from him. Her face that looked at him with her big eyes wide open, scared of the strange people taking her. Her cries and whimpers. Charles closed his eyes, trying to breathe but it didn’t work, it was like he forgot how to breathe in the last 30 seconds. He clutched his chest, right over his heart that was racing. His sight got foggy and he felt his knees buckling, touching the cold wood floor.

His ears were buzzing and he felt the bile rise up his throat when all of a sudden a warm and gentle hand on his shoulder woke him up from his frenzy.

"Charles?" a soft voice asked and he saw Lauren in his peripheral "Breathe with me, okay?"

She appeared in front of him, one hand still on his shoulder, the other one taking his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Look at me, okay? Just follow my lead, deep breathe in… and out… in…. and out…"

Charles sight slowly sharpened again, the buzzing in his ears got quieter with each breath he took and his racing heart slowed down. His breathing was shaky, but he felt how his whole body slowly relaxed, the tightness and pain in his chest slowly ebbing away.

"You’re okay… everything will be fine… just breathe…" Lauren smiled at him and he swallowed hard.

Charles had no idea how long they sat like this. His eyes locked on Lauren’s. Breathing simultaneously with her.

"You feel better?" she whispered and he slowly nodded "Yeah? Okay, then come on, let’s get up…" she carefully pulled him up with her and then pushed him onto the edge of his bed before she turned away for a moment.

"Fuck…" Charles mumbled, ruffling his hair when Lauren handed him a glass of water "Thanks.."

She just smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder and then sat down next to him.

"Can I- can I ask what happened?" she whispered holding his gaze, her eyes sincere.

"I don’t know… honestly. One second I was fine and the next I couldn’t breathe, my chest hurt and everything was getting blurry…"

"You had a panic attack, Charles."

"What a fitting name…" he mumbled and closed his eyes.

"Was it the first time?"

"I think so… I mean I never felt like this before…"

"Did something happen?" her voice was soft and comforting and Charles could get lost in her eyes.

He wanted to tell her about the call he just received. His fears. But it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to bother her with his problems and so he slowly shook his head.

"No… I was just thinking that next week I’ll be back in Maranello and the second half of the season starts…" Charles lied and Lauren nodded.

"Okay? And that’s scares you?" she asked.

"I’m not having the best season so far… and after the last weeks with you… with you guys here? Maybe not scared but it definitely doesn’t excite me as much as it used to…"

"Hmm… I understand. I honestly don’t know what to say… I’m not really into F1 to say much about it." Lauren replied shyly but Charles shook his head.

"It’s fine… you helped me, that’s enough!" he smiled, ruffling his hair "Can we please go now? I’m starving and the food you all prepared looked damn good!"

"Yeah! Sure! Let’s go!" she got up, giggling lightly, a sound that made Charles heart flutter.

"Lauren?" he called after her and she turned around "Can this- umm can what happened stay between us? I don’t want the others to be worried… I know I’m asking a lot…"

"No, it’s okay… I understand… your secret is safe with me…" she smiled and he sighed relieved. She stretched out her hand for him to take, wiggling it in front of him "And now come on! I’m starving too!"

Charles was lying on one of the sun loungers, his tired eyes softening as he watched Ava sleep on his chest. Her fluttering eyelids, plush lips, every gentle rise and fall of her tiny body with each of his breaths was like balm for his soul. Her adorable sounds like a melody to his ears, soothing him in a way nothing else could these days. He still felt the panic attack from 2 days before in his bones. The way his breathing constricted making him feel helpless. The upcoming visit of the CPS occupied his mind. He still had to tell his mother about it all, but he was too scared. Saying it out loud made it real. For now it was just like a dark cloud looming over Monaco for when he returned back home. The fear of losing Ava paired with the weight of the season, the failed upgrades, the race results that haven’t gone his way, it was all a lot to take in, but in a moment like this, where he watched his little girl sleep on his chest, they all seemed to fade into the background as he focused on the peaceful rhythm of Ava’s slumber. In the rare quiet moments Charles had with her, he could forget about it all. No fastest laps to race, no expectations to meet, no CPS to convince he was doing a good job as a father. Just the warmth of his little girl, her trust in him, and the overwhelming love he felt for her. In these moments, all the noise of the world seemed to disappear and he found comfort in her presence, like a shelter from the outside world. It made Charles realise that even when things weren’t going his way, he always had something to come home to that made all the blood, sweat and tears worthwhile. He knew he would do everything for her. He would give his life for her.

"Charles?" his mothers soft voice made him look up from his little girl "You should lay down inside… it’s quite hot out here and you’ve been laying here for quite a while now…"

"What time is it?" he mumbled, looking at her.

"It’s half past 3…"

"Oh yeah… I lost track of time. I was lost in my thoughts…" he sighed.

"Yeah, I could tell…" she sat down on the chair next to him "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes… but not now. I need a day or two to sort it all out in my head." he sat up carefully, making sure to not wake up Ava "I didn’t even realise how hot it was?" he felt the sweat dripping down his face, wiping it away before he felt Ava’s skin "She feels a little warm…"

"It’s okay… just go inside and both have something to drink." Pascale smiled and he nodded, walking up the stairs of the terrace and then inside.

The fresh air gave him goosebumps and he cradled Ava closer to his chest when he walked towards the kitchen. He got greeted with the polished steel door of the fridge, hearing someone rummaging through it before closing it. Lauren turned and flinched and she looked for a moment like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh hi… gosh you scared me!" her voice shaky.

"Sorry! I just wanted to grab something to drink for us." Charles replied and the girl nodded, already grabbing one of Ava’s bottles from the sink "You don’t have to, I can-…"

"It’s okay…" Lauren smiled and grabbed the formula, carefully measuring the scoops. While she watched the water warm up to the right temperature, she grabbed a glass from the cupboard over her and opened the fridge again "Just plain water is boring. I cut in some fruit or cucumber and mint. What would you like?"

"Umm-… I try the cucumber and mint one." Charles smiled at her and watched her fill his glass "Thanks." he took the glass from her and tried it "Pretty refreshing. And not boring."

"Right?" she smiled and prepared Ava’s formula, shaking the bottle before she squirted a little something on her wrist making Charles cock an eyebrow.

"You know that the water will heat up to the exact right temperature, that’s the whole point of this gadget…"

"I know… but I just don’t trust it. I don’t want it to be too hot and hurt Ava…" she shrugged and Charles felt his insides warm again.

"You’re too sweet…" the words were out before he could do anything against it and Lauren blushed immediately "I mean… the way how you look out for Ava, not even just Ava, for me? When Maman said you’re the sweetest girl, I didn’t know what she meant. Now I do."

"I owe your mum a lot… so yeah, that’s my way of thanking her…" she mumbled and handed him Ava’s bottle.

"And it’s a sweet way. A very caring way. Thank you…" Charles smiled and left the kitchen to sit down on the sofa, just right in time for Ava to squirm around, opening her eyes looking at him "Hey girlie… did you have a good sleep?"

As if she understood him she nodded slightly and then yawned, making an adorable sound. But it didn’t take long for her to start crying and he already grabbed the bottle, feeding her.

"There you go… already prepared, no need to cry, princess." he smiled at her leaning back into the cushions.

He watched her face, how her tiny nose scrunched up, her eyes half open, cheeks slightly pink from just waking up, when Lauren walked past him carrying two big plates outside. Everything she did, she did effortlessly. She always looked graceful. Always looked well put together. Even in the morning, after just waking up and she was just wearing shorts and a top, she still looked perfect. He couldn’t stop looking at her and his mother’s words about how she could’ve been a supermodel if she wanted to, were omnipresent in his mind because his mother was right. She really could be a supermodel. But a real one. Wearing beautiful gowns in the runways in Milan or Paris. Not these wannabe social media models.

"Charles?" this time he flinched, when Lauren stood in front of him "Sorry!"

"No, it’s okay, I was just umm- lost in my thoughts!" he said quickly, smiling at her.

"Oh, good thoughts?" she cocked and eyebrow, smirking.

"Umm-… yeah, I’d say so."

"Good. That’s really good… here, I made you a fruit plate as well…" she sat down a plate full of melon, pineapple and mango chunks, strawberry half’s and blueberries and he realised that the two big plates she carried outside must’ve been fruit plates for the rest of them by the pool "And some more water, you need to stay hydrated, you know."

"Thanks Lauren…" it was really like he said, she was the sweetest.

"Let’s trade, I get the little princess, and you can have your snack…" she held out her hands a moment later she was feeing Ava, looking at her lovingly.

"I honestly have no idea how we would’ve survived this vacation without you…" Charles said after a while and Lauren looked at him "It’s not just that you look out for Ava and me, but everyone! I’ve seen it. You make everyone around you feel good. Always prepare little snacks here and there. Make sure that everyone stays hydrated or puts on enough sunscreen…"

"I guess that’s just a part of me since I’m a nurse… I can’t help it but to make people feel good and look out for them… especially if it’s people I like a lot… and I do… like you all a lot…" she replied shyly, her cheeks again slightly red.

It was adorable how fast Lauren blushed. The tinniest of compliments or nice things about her being said already made her blush and she turned shy. Always deflecting and asking for them to stop. She wasn’t anything special or wasn’t doing anything special. But she was wrong. She was. She was something special.

"Oh good job, Ava! That was a good little burb!" Lauren cooed at the little girl who began to babble happily, playing with Lauren’s hair "You like hair, hmm? Maybe you’ll become a hairdresser just like your grandma when you’re older?"

Charles chuckled. Watching the two girls next to him have a kind of conversation, while happily snacking the fruits Lauren had prepared for him. It was easy with her around. Just watching her and Ava. Like it always was like this. Maybe it could be something, that always would be like this, too.

"And you’re staring again…" Joris chuckled and Charles groaned "It’s okay. You can just admit it."

"Why don’t you just shut up, hmm?" he said and looked away from Lauren, stretching out next to Carla with Ava in her lap, laughing at what she just said.

Joris was right, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. The way the red bikini clung to her skin seemed almost too perfect, catching the sunlight with every subtle movement. Every curve of her body seemed perfectly sculpted, the fabric hugging her in all the right places, and he could feel a deep heat rise within him. His heart raced, a mixture of desire and something deeper, but the attraction was undeniable. But again it wasn’t just her beauty that held him in place, rooted like he was in some trance. It was the way she interacted with Ava. Her tiny hands seemed to reach out for her every time she spoke softly to her. Every laugh, every tender word she whispered to his little girl, made his insides feel as though it was melting. There was something about the way she was with his daughter that stirred something deep within him. Over the past weeks he realised that he had never seen anyone make such a natural, effortless connection with Ava. And the longer he watched her, the more he realised that it wasn’t just Lauren’s physical beauty that enchanted him. It was her warmth, her kindness, the way she was able to make his daughter giggle, her big eyes sparkling.

"You know, it’s kinda obvious that you have a thing for her, that you’re more than attracted to her… so why not act on it?" Joris said after a while and Charles thought about his words.

He shifted uncomfortably, his pulse quickening as he tried to force his thoughts to calm down, but it was no use. Joris was right. His own body betrayed him with every lingering glance and he got up, groaning.

"Just shut up!" he hissed before he jumped into the pool, needing to cool down.

"Sure. That’s also an option…" Joris laughed but Charles ignored him, swimming a few lengths to get his mind out of the gutter.

For now he had other problems to focus on. With their vacation coming to an end in 3 days he knew that he had to talk to his mother about the CPS. And he dreaded it already. He needed a clear head for it. So he swallowed down whatever it was he felt for Lauren and prepared himself to tell his mother about what was to come as soon as she would return to Monaco with Ava.

"You’re kidding, right? Your job?" Pascale looked at Charles with big eyes.

"They are afraid that I can’t take care of her, because of my job and dropping her off at yours all the time can’t be the solution. They say as her father I have to be more present in her life. It’s important for- umm what did they say? Bonding? Form a bond? Well yeah I told them that it’s not so easy with my job and that taking her with me is not an option because how is that gonna work? But they were very clear that they will have an eye on me and also pay me or rather you a visit as soon as we’re back to see how Ava lives. How a normal day looks for her…"

"And that all just because you were responsible and went to the hospital with her when you weren’t sure what to do?"

"Apparently I should’ve known it myself… or better I should have a girlfriend or wife who should’ve known it…" Charles was exhausted, plopping down on the sofa.

"Now that’s just… that’s just stupid. Ava is your first child, it’s normal to not know everything! And she’s the happiest little girl, it’s not fair of them to make you feel like you’re a bad father when you’re doing everything that you can to be the best dad for her!" Pascale sat down on the coffee table, taking her son’s hands in his "Don’t let them make you believe you’re not a good father, okay? The sacrifices you make to keep Ava safe? To make sure she’s healthy and happy? Don’t believe for one second that what they are saying is the truth!"

"I’m trying to, I swear… but it’s hard. Because to some degree, they are not that wrong. Most of the time she’s with you instead of me…"

"Because you have a very demanding job! One that isn’t easy at all. But one that will provide your daughter with everything she’ll ever want and need!"

"I know. And that’s why I’m just so… gosh I don’t know…" he swallowed hard and his mother squeezed his hands.

"Don’t be so hard on yourself… you’ll find a solution. We’ll find one…"

"I don’t know, Maman. I mean, what am I supposed to do?" Charles got up, pacing back and forth "I can’t stop racing. It’s my job. My career. My life!"

Pascale thought for a moment. The thought she had for weeks now coming back to her mind and she got up as well.

"I have an idea…" she said slowly, a mischievous smile forming on her lips when she looked outside and Charles followed her look, his eyes landing on Lauren, Ava in her arms, swaying her slowly around.

"I’m listening?"

"Lauren." Pascale simply said.

"Lauren?" Charles repeated, cocking an eyebrow "That’s it. That’s your idea? Lauren?"

"You need a full time nanny. One who travels with you to your races and all…"

Chapter 12 - Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day ♥️ and what a way to celebrate it! Charles and Lauren are just the cutest! I really enjoy writing them and I hope you guys enjoy reading about them!

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000 @guaaafiiburg @giov13 @alittlebitofbooksandmagic

[shadowwolfmemes]

A villain's take on Shoo

Here, I will interview my OC on what he thinks about Shoo's frivolous actions. Let's see what he says.

[The only person who should take this to heart is Shoo. I know Shoo's actions aren't taken lightly and shouldn't be seen as a joke, but this is made to make fun of Shoo and only Shoo itself, not its victims.]

Real talk, though, I know you'll see this, Shoo.

I know you won't take this seriously.

Before you type out more of your brain-rotted bullshit and throw around empty buzzwords like you usually do, why don't you spend more time on finding real hobbies or better yet, FIND A JOB?

And you really don't like it when I dehumanize you, don't you? Well, that's too fucking bad, I don't give a rat's flying ass if it truly offends you! You don't give respect to anyone, so why should we respect you?

No, seriously, what the actual fuck is going on within that empty head of yours?

Repeated harassment.

Sexualizing a real minor.

Slinging weak, empty buzzwords you apparently don't know how to use correctly.

All that and you're telling me you're a "fully grown" adult? I wanna believe you on that, but at the same time, your immature mindset shows that you can't handle anything.

Me and my friends don't like proshipping, so what? Why the hell do you care about our opinions so flipping much? It takes up more energy to make a new account after another when we EXPLICITLY explained to you that we're not comfortable with block evaders than it is to just block and move on.

Guess what? The block button is only two clicks away. Mind blowing, I know. 🙄

Blocking is free and won't do you any harm, but of course, you wouldn't know how to use it, Shoo.

If you truly don't care about what I or what anyone has to say, then don't pop out. Don't comment. Don't reblog. Just say nothing and block. If you keep doing this, you're gonna upset the wrong person and they'll do far worse than just report your account. Trust me, it won't be anyone's fault, but yours for fucking around too much.

Since you want to be the "internet super hero" so fucking much, why don't you do everyone an actual favor, yeah?

Delete all of your accounts.

Throw away all the devices you own.

And you're gonna sit tight in that smelly, mildewing, rusty, dusty, crusty, musty, rat infested basement you call home till the day you expire. Once you do, we'll celebrate your disappearance off the internet and then you'll become irrelevant overtime. How does that sound?

Anyways, I'm done here.

[symphonicsoul]

.·:¨༺ ✩★✩ ༻¨:·. The prince is sighing as she speaks, while the Historian makes a face under his mask. Jade eyes are staring at her hands folded on the table for a moment before they rise again. It sounds more like there are a whole slew of things she wants him to tell her but doesn't know how to ask them of him, so presenting it more as an option makes it less like she's prying.

He doesn't know how to approach the situation when her words of telling him that 'he couldn't keep things from her' and 'she would find out' are rolling around in his mind. He decides it's probably best to keep those thoughts to himself knowing full well, the man of orange next to him would about lose his mind if he knew that his Liege was spoken to in such a way.

He'll start with the obvious, and even though he's told his binds of this fact, he's sure it's still a bit hard for them to digest.

"Miss Lisa, firstly when it comes to my age, I do look like a child. This is the way I looked when Misterica fell. I look this way because of my immortality. I haven't aged a day since Misterica was destroyed by Chaos."

He can feel his bind tense as he speaks about it and he watches as his head drops and his shoulders droop down towards the floor while the older man sighs. A hand is reaching under the table to rest on the elder's knee as if to give him some form of comfort. He knows his binds are all learning this information at varying speeds but none of it is quick and they haven't had the time to process it that he has - that he and Aqua have if he knows Herba well enough and he knows he does.

"I can't age. You've seen my powers in full effect whether you realized it or not. That wasn't just an injury that day, Miss Lisa. That was exactly what it looked like. I do look like a child, but I assure you I am not one. I would appreciate it if you refrained from calling me 'boy', in the future."

He's sighing again as he continues to hold the elder's hand beneath the table while his right remains visible on it's surface. She says she wants to be friends but he doesn't know to begin doing so when he has always been so guarded around her. She's referred to him as 'Makenshi' in the past until recent days when the twins decided to change his name to 'Kumo' - and honestly it was a much better choice than otherwise.

And now she wants his... name. He doesn't very much feel like giving it to her. Not with her words from their previous conversation still floating around in his mind. Somehow, he feels like she's still under the false impression that his time in Gaudium was of his own volition and not the complete opposite of such. Somehow, he feels like his words for all those years ago still have not reached her.

"As for my name, Kumo, is fine. Misterican names are sacred and gifts to us from our parents and if I am to be perfectly honest, Miss Lisa - after your attitude in our previous conversation - I am not very much in the mood to give it to you. One does not get my name simply because they demand information about me. You're not doing it now, but you did it then and I don't really know which face to believe. So, Kumo, is fine for now, and it will be fine until I decide otherwise. "

He pauses as he sighs.

"The only reason Black Wind knows my name is because he speaks my tongue, so do not think I am placing him any better than anyone else in that regard. He did not earn my name either, but even he knows better than to speak it aloud."

He's sighing again as his hand tightens around the one in his grip and mint green eyes focus in on him while their owner also sighs deeply.

"We came to apologize for own our actions, we're not here to get information from you unless you're willing to give it. I'm starting to understand why his highness is struggling to find where he stands with you. The more I learn of humans, the more I find how selfish they are. You understand that your planet and your people are not all that exists, don't you?"

Lisa listens to both carefully, observing as the two get situated and explain why they came back to speak to her.

"I appreciate your apology, both of you, but I definitely have some work to do myself," she said softly, with a small smile on her face.

"As for your position, I don't think you need to apologize for not telling me, and I don't think it inherently makes things awkward... You have nothing to make up for just because I wasn't aware," she replied.

"That being said, I'm glad I know now... I really do want to be your friend, and it's hard to do that if we don't talk to each other, but you certainly aren't obligated to do anything or tell me anything. I wouldn't ask that of you, it wouldn't be fair to."

She takes a deep breath, glancing down at her hands as she fidgets, before shifting slightly in her seat before continuing.

"I've clearly made assumptions, and that seems to have only led to problems, which I'm sorry for, and I'll make sure I won't do so in the future, or at the very least I will try not to..," she turned her gaze to Valo, "When we spoke earlier, you were upset I used the name 'Kumo,' and that I translated this name for him," she turns back to Kumo, like she was curious about what his answer to her coming question would be, "Do you not like the name 'Kumo'? If you want me to refer to you in another way, I'm more than happy to," she explained.

She was honestly a bit embarrassed to have not asked before. It felt a bit ridiculous now that she was actually asking him.

"I know you never complained about it or anything, but looking back I still should've asked. I also called you a 'boy,' which he told me was incorrect, very incorrect actually, now that I think about it, it was a little ridiculous to assume your lifespan is similar to ours, so I shouldn't have assumed your age," she said, smiling a bit.

She thought for a moment, leaning forward in her seat and resting her clasped hands on the table they were sat at. "I guess I should just ask you if there's anything you want me to know, or if there is anything you want me to tell you?" Maybe they could just try this again, learn about each other without any assumptions getting in the way this time...

[nuppu-nuppu]

Ignore if you don’t want to read about me being stupid once again

[bonefall]

Voted for Bumble bc of course but also if you think Alex would not pspsps Bumble you are wrong. If they could communicate they would go to therapy together /s

If then could communicate they would go to therapy together

/GEN

Kyle/Green Lantern resurrects her but then he becomes convinced that she's not the same person she was before the incident, OR SOMETHING SOMETHING Black Lanterns aren't ACTUALLY bad they're just misunderstood Grim Reaper types, in either case Alex ends up breaking it off with Kyle because they've become very different people.

And then Bumble's there

And then they go to therapy or Alex adopts Bumble, and then uhhh Bumble's like one of the superpets. Like Krypto the Superdog. Free premise go forth and play with it if ur a DC fan

[xxplastic-cubexx]

When I watch X-Men First Class and see Cherik. For some reasons that idk why even. Please Please Please of Sabrina Carpenter suddenly their my theme song to them. Random but it is what it is 😭

yk if it was any time after first class i could see it ....... divorce and the cycle of breaking up and getting back together and all ....... the denial etc etc .....

[you-will-return]

--

(I keep telling myself that I won't post it and then I don't and then I feel annoyed with myself but I tell myself that I shouldn't post it and then I don't and-)