#( i wish to be a fleshed out as you are with world building one day /blow kiss )

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?�� You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Reader

Part 11: Strange Blood

masterlist playlist

18+only, smut, unprotected piv, oral, blood drinking, mind-bending moments, supernatural elements, vampires, fear of the unknown. Hopper and vampire!Joyce, werewolf!Steve, and a few others.

word count: 12.4k

Summary: All I can say is that this is another wild one, lmao. Not an action-packed rollercoaster like the previous chapter, but definitely some odd things going on. You know me, it gets a bit wacky. It's been my honor to be on this journey with you, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. I love you, dear readers.

A/N: Hi everyone who has patiently waited for more of this story, Betty finally did it! I had a hard time coming back to this one only because I wasn't sure in which direction I wanted to take it. Oh, and also, I forgot how to write there for a while but anyway, the previous chapter was such chaos, and I wanted to take them in a different direction, so I did. Although this is the end of the series, there is still plenty I want to write for the True Blood universe, so this will not be the end.

------

this picks up right where part 10 left off

“I have dreams about you too, you know,” Eddie said softly from the edge of the bed. Shirtless and quickly healing after the bullets were removed, he used both hands to pull his hair into a ponytail, and then released it. 

Sweat bloomed on your scalp, and all you could do was swallow thickly, spinning on your heel to head for the hallway.

“I’m sorry if what I said was too much,” you babbled in a rush.  “We can just forget—”

Eddie hopped up to snatch your hand.  “Hey wait—don’t,” he heard the harsh desperation in his voice and then softened it to a whisper.  “Please.”

You stopped in your tracks and let him tug you backwards slowly, step by step.

Before he could put his arm around your waist, you turned on a dime, sliding fingers along the cool ripples of his ribs, watching his parted lips, the way his breath hitched in surprise.  It felt like there was no time and no distance in between his mouth and yours; suddenly they clashed together and your hand made a fist in his hair. 

He wasn’t expecting it, but neither were you, and it was a breathless, awkward meeting of teeth for a moment. Stumbling back so that his legs hit the back of the bed frame, Eddie toppled to the mattress, taking you with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the tension that had been building between the two of you, or the adrenaline from the recent vampire massacre that happened right outside your door, but you devoured each other like it was the last day of immortality.  

For as much of a prick as he could be out in the real world, Eddie was gentle and eager, taking your clothes off with trembling hands so that he didn’t rip them before he tasted you from face to hip, kissing down the jagged scar on your sternum while you clung to his head and writhed.

It was more than foreplay to him; his attention was a form of worship, the next best thing to running his mouth was filling it full of you.

You clawed at his belted black jeans and he smiled against your kiss.  “So, does this mean you like me?”

Your eyes locked while you helped to push his denim jeans down to his hips, your heart in your throat.  “You need me to say it?”

“You don’t have to, but I’ll say it,” he lifted up on his forearms, his hair tickling your cheeks from the way he hovered over you, one dimple popping up from his crooked smile.  “I really really dig you.”

“Show me,” you whispered, lifting to slide your nose along his, making a shiver run through him.  

“As you wish, m’lady,” he chuckled, pushing his jeans all the way off and kicking them to the side with such force that they hit the wall.  

He had no right to be so gorgeous, you thought, running hungry hands down the icy, tattooed flesh of his stomach where the bullet holes had already healed.  A single whisper of, “I wanted this for so long,” came out in a breathy whisper when he intertwined his fingers with yours.  

Being pressed up against your skin made him feel like he was standing too close to a raging bonfire, like maybe his body hairs would get singed.  He wanted to beg you to leave a mark on him; the branding iron of your touch to claim his animated corpse.  

He made you come with his mouth first, growling into you as you shook and fluttered on his tongue.  His skill level suggested that it was not his first rodeo by far, but you could tell he was listening and learning about the things that felt best to you, the right speed and pressure that made you cry out his name and claw at his skin. He wanted to please you—more than that, Christ—he wanted to be the only one.

Eddie fucked you into next week. Each of you were sweaty and depraved, but his saliva felt like melting ice, and you could almost hear it sizzle when it met your heat.  Tongues wrestling together, moaning sweet and filthy things until you were bouncing on top of him, hips snapping up to meet you, cumming so hard you thought you might explode into vapor.

His fangs latched onto the side of your throat after you begged for it, making everything messy and sticky.  You liked hearing the way he whined when the tang of your blood hit his tongue, the way he fed from your vein, sealing the wound with a few kitten licks.  At one point, with crimson dripping down either side of his chin, he was taking you from behind and his hips stuttered.

“Roll over,” he rumbled.  “I need to see you.”

And that was how he came, buried deep with his eyes locked on yours, spilling every drop until he was almost convulsing.  He sliced a cut on his chest with the fingernail of his thumb, and coaxed you up to drink from him, moaning at your insatiable hunger, the way you moaned into him.  

Eddie might’ve been lost in the heat of the moment, but he knew what he felt for you was more than just… “like”.  His head spun when you whimpered things like, “deeper Eddie, cum inside of me.”  

It’d been years since he’d slept with someone he cared about, but even then, it wasn’t like with you. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as the gentle kisses you planted on his palm before sucking his fingers while you rode him.

Yeah, he had it bad for you.  

Neither of you bothered to clean up once the pace began to slow down.  He rolled onto his side to make out with you with dried blood in the corner of his mouth, not ready to end what you just shared, for fear it would never happen again.  

No one who mattered ever stuck around.

He ran a tender thumb over the scar on your cheek that was also caked with a line of crimson.  “So, you were in a…car accident?” He asked in a whisper.  

“Apparently I died,” you laughed to soften the harsh truth of it.  “My father tried…” you trailed off, and Eddie was about to say you didn’t have to talk about it, but then you continued.  “I guess you could say he exchanged his life for mine.”

“I wish I could’ve met him,” he trailed off, tracing your eyebrow with his finger.  He interlocked his fingers with one of your hands and held it to his chest.  “Tell him how grateful I am.” 

“He would’ve liked you,” the thought of never being about to introduce Eddie to your father made tears swell.  Eddie scooped you closer, pulling your leg up by the crook of your knee to wrap your thigh over the sticky length of his cock.  

“This is nice,” he hummed, eyelids flickering shut to the feeling of your warm breath on his shoulder.  “Stay with me for a minute?”

The two of you dozed off, and you awoke to Eddie shooting upright into a seated position with a jolt.

“Shit, it’ll be dawn soon,” he hissed, head spinning to look at the digital alarm clock by your bed.  

You sat up too, looking at the big window with thin white curtains that could never block the potentially murderous rays of the sun.  

“I could cover it with…something else? A comforter?” You hurried to shuffle off the mattress, suddenly panicked at the thought of what would happen if he was exposed to daylight. 

He was up and yanking his jeans on.  “These windows are a death trap,” but then a thought made him smile to himself.  “I guess if my time comes, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Your time has NOT come, okay?” You hastily pulled a t-shirt on from one of your drawers.  “I refuse to let the best sex of my life go without a fight.”

He cocked his head with a blushing smirk and repeated his question from earlier.  “Does that mean you like me?”

“Stop it,” you playfully shoved him on your way by, scooting a pair of shorts up your hips.  “This is serious.”

“Oh it’s very serious,” and then he caught your hips with both hands before you could get too far away and pulled you back.

“Let’s get you to a safe place first,” you muttered against his lips. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

A loud thud banged on the roof like a good sized rock landed from the sky, and you both knew it was Bela returning from wherever she’d been for the past few hours to avoid the danger.  When You turned the light on in the living room, Dio stretched and yawned from her position curled up on the arm of the couch.

From where you stood at the mouth of the hallway near the kitchen, you could see the front of Eddie’s trailer through the courtyard facing window.  A few steps more and you could see half of it, somehow unscathed by the fire.  

Surely, your eyes were playing tricks on you.  

Maybe it was the backside that had been affected by the flames? Maybe it was still too dark to see, but the sun would be up soon enough—

“Eddie?” You motioned for him to follow you, to see what you were seeing, and then you stood side by side, dumfounded.

Surely, most of his house should’ve been nothing but a pile of charred wreckage.  

An eerie feeling of fear washed over you, making your eyes dart over to the television screen, waiting for a face to appear like Brenner’s had the night before.  

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered.  “How could your trailer survive the fire without a scratch?”

Eddie’s pinky hooked onto yours when he couldn’t find the words.

You let out a heavy sigh a beat later when you figured it out.  “This is another dream, isn’t it? Of course it is.”

“No, no way,” he shook his head, paying attention to the horizon that would soon light up with his demise.  “There’s no way we would be in the same dream like this. This is real.”

Seeing Bela sail in the front door and land clunkily on the top of the TV gave you a huge amount of relief.  You patted the top of her smooth head a few times, thankful to have her as a constant.

“Be right back,” Eddie said just before he did that vampire thing and zipped outside at the speed of light.  You watched him dart in and out of his trailer, and then he was back at your side again.  

“That’s my trailer, all right,” hands crossed over his chest, he gnawed his lower lip in contemplation.  “Nothing’s missing, nothing was burned.  Even my guitar is over there, when I know I brought her here.  Doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“No it doesn’t,” you agreed softly.  You should’ve been grateful his trailer was untouched, but instead it filled you with dread.

Eddie turned, eyes narrowing on the deep orange creeping over the mountains.

“I need to get underground,” he started looking around, like maybe he could dig a quick hole in the floor.  Instead, he went over to the western style couch with wagon wheels and cowboys on the upholstery and inspected it.

“Have you ever checked behind here?” He asked.

“No,” you frowned.  “Why would I?”

In one effortless swoop, he moved the piece of furniture away from the wall and then stood back.

There was a door built into the carpeted floor near the wall, complete with a handle and lock.  At first you couldn't see it, because it was covered in orange shag to match the rest of the living room.  You rested your tongue between your teeth, dumbfounded.

“Yeah so that’s a Sunlight Safe Room,” he scratched his head.  “They were built into all of the trailers way back in the day.  I just never thought to check for yours until now.”

He pushed the couch to the middle with Dio still asleep on the armrest.  “Call me paranoid, but I don’t want to be too far from you,” he knelt to open it.  “I can stay out of the sun here, if that’s okay?”

You were tempted to “go to rest” with him just so he wouldn’t somehow disappear like the evidence of the fire had.  Inside the hatch were ten metal steps downward that opened to a modest concrete area with a twin mattress on the floor.  

It looked creepy as hell, like something you’d see in a horror movie like Silence of the Lambs.

“I’ll get you a pillow,” you turned, but he called your name.

“There’s no time,” he was halfway down the steps. “I’ll see you after dusk, okay?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid to be without him, but you nodded.

“I’ll lock it from the inside,” he said as he pulled the door down and descended.  “Stay safe okay? I’ll still be able to feel you if you’re in danger.”

He wanted to say something else to you, words that were clenching on his heart, but then worried it might be too soon.

Bela threw her head back and screeched, stretching out her wings.  

“Okay.”  You gulped.  “I’ll miss you.”

He smiled generously at that, just as the neon light of morning blossomed over the trailer park and you heard the click of the lock on the inside of his…what would you call it? Tomb? No, it was a Vampire Safe Room.

You shifted the sofa back in place and crossed your arms over your chest to stand and stare out the window at the untouched gnome on Eddie’s front steps, still flipping you the bird.  

If only its impish mouth could talk.

—-------

After dozing off on the sofa above Eddie for a few hours, you snapped awake flooded with fear that everything had gone back to “normal”.  But the door in the floor was still there, and Eddie was still in it; you could hear him snort-snore every so often.  The sound made you feel a tidal wave of relief.  

If you’d somehow slipped into another dimension, at least you still had Eddie.  

You took Dio back over to Eddie’s untouched trailer, just in case Bela forgot her manners, and you asked your demobat companion to keep an eye on Eddie while you were gone.  She chirped a few times, swaying back and forth to let you know she understood while she munched on chopped up bananas.  She wasn’t very hungry, but the claws on her wings had a hint of blood on them, and you figured she found something to eat in the woods, but you didn’t want to know what.  

You hadn’t touched your Polaroid camera in a while, but you used it to snap a photo of Bela then, with her gnarly grin stuffed with banana mash, and then you clapped the land camera shut and put it in your bag.  

There was not a single thing amiss in the courtyard of the Crimson Terrace trailer park.  No blood in the dead grass, no tracks from all of the vehicles and the crowds, and your hearse did not have a single new scratch.  

You shot a glance over your shoulder where Bela perched in the window, wondering if it was a good idea to leave Eddie defenseless like that with how weird everything was.  You shivered and zipped up the rest of your hoodie.  

On your way around to unlock the driver’s door, your landlord Dolores spotted you from four trailers away and came out to wave you down.  She wore one of her signature muumuus with pink curlers in her short, auburn hair.  .

You flinched as you walked up her three steps to the small porch, thinking she’d interrogate you about all of the chaos, or have an issue with you spending time with your vampire neighbor.  

But it wasn’t a scolding she wanted to give you; it was a letter.

Adressed to you with no return address, the envelope was weathered yellow like it had traveled across the ocean by rowboat, and then the rest of the way by horse and buggy.  She’d found it on her doorstep that morning.

“Thanks,” you said absently, turning it over in your hand as you walked off.  You waited until you were safely behind the wheel and down the street before you opened it, trembling.  

The piece of parchment inside was wispy thin, but the date was somehow...exactly a year from the day you were in.

That had to be a mistake. The person just messed up the numbers, it happens.

You’re probably very co fused right  ow.

That was how the letter started.

You stared at the words with dry, unblinking eyes, noticing that the letter “n” was missing from the typeset.

You folded the paper over in your lap and checked to see if anyone was nearby watching.  You bit on the cuticle of your pinky finger for a few seconds before opening it again.  

You’re i  a slightly differe t timeli e  ow.  That’s all I ca  say without revealing too much. Ma y thi gs will be differe t, but some will be the same.

A laugh bubbled in your throat; one of those insane laughs appropriate for absolute absurd things. It had to be a joke, one that you did not find particularly amusing.

A different timeline? How was that even possible? You’d been introduced to many odd things you never previously believed existed, but this one was a little more difficult to wrap your brain around.  

Whe  the time is right, everything will be revealed. U til the , stay safe.

It wasn’t signed, and there was no hint as to who or where it had come from.

You turned the weathered, creased paper over as if there might be a photo of the author, and then you stared out the dirty windshield, letting it sink in.

The most bonkers thing about it was that it actually made sense.  It was the only possible explanation for there being no sign of any of the wreckage from the night before.

If it wasn’t a joke, then who was this messenger committed to giving you a heads up? 

Tucking the letter into your bag with a hard swallow, you cranked the radio up on the way into town, headed to Main Vein. The trees were bare, and the sky was heavy with clouds, hiding a dollop of egg yolk sun behind their veil. You’d drop in to get your new schedule from Bob, and perhaps see if the town of Hawkins had changed.  

You caught sight of Argyle’s VW beetle parked down a side street and smiled to yourself, knowing at least that was a constant.  Main Vein was still housed in the same building, but the red neon sign in the window said VEIN ON MAIN instead.  .

Robin’s bookstore appeared to have a quaint cafe attached to it. You were able to get a glimpse of her there, sitting at a small, round sidewalk table.  Her hair was longer, worn in a ponytail, and she held hands with the other woman across from her.  At their feet was the tan pit bull terrier who had helped you defeat the Klemps all of those months ago in the alley.  

At least it looked like the same dog.  

Would they remember you at Main Vein? Or…Vein on Main? 

You drove around the block and then parked at the curb, the same place you’d parked the hearse the day of your first interview with Bob Newby.

The Main Vein you remembered had floor to ceiling windows in front that were covered in dark velvet blackout curtains during the day, but this space had a red brick front with two small windows painted black and a red door.  The windows each had neon signs in them: one for Pabst Blue Ribbon, and one for the synthetic vampire blood called NuBlood.

The black door opened to a space the size of a generous closet facing another door.  There was a gumball machine, a stack of local newspapers, and a guy on a stool reading what appeared to be a paperback romance novel. One of those bodice ripping ones with the dramatic covers. He had one foot planted on the ground, while the booted heel of the other hooked onto a rung on the stool.

His honey brown hair looked like it had been styled with a blow dryer, and he wore a pair of sunglasses pushed up to his forehead, even though he had no use for them since it was fairly dark in that nook.  

He glanced up bored at first, but then straightened when he saw you.

“It’s you,” Steve beamed, folding the corner of a page in his book to save his spot.  “I didn’t think you were on the clock today?”

Your mind froze.  So, Steve was your coworker in this new timeline? You tried not to let your brain short-circuit over this new information.

At least you could be comforted by the fact that you still had employment.

“Wait, what is your job again?” You asked, looking around the space between the two doors.

He gave you a side-eye as if you were fucking with him.  “I’ve been the bouncer for a few weeks now.  Argyle got me the job, remember?”

“Oh right, oh sure,” you nodded wildly a few times.  

“Are you feeling okay?” His look was one of genuine concern.   

“I’m good, I promise.” You offered a flat smile that did not reach your eyes. “But is it okay if I ask you another potentially really stupid question?”

“Shoot.” He crossed his booted feet at the ankles in front of him, leaning back.

“Did we…did we ever…” you bit the inside of your cheek.  “Did we ever…go on a date? To see a movie?”

Steve scratched his stubbled chin.  “Well I wouldn’t call it a date-date, but I was a third wheel with you and Erica that night Robin bailed on me.”

“And you’re still…also a werewolf, right?” Now the absurd questions were just flying out.

He tilted his head, and his eyes glowed red for a second as an answer.  “Last I checked.”

“Okay, good.”

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Maybe not?” You shrugged.  “But I’ll be okay.  Is Bob here?”

“Think so,” he was about to say more, but just as your hand was on the door to go in, the outside door began to open, and he hopped up.  “Hold on, there,” he told the person outside, pulling the door shut again.  “Only one door can open at a time.”

“Now you can go,” he nodded, gesturing for you to enter.  You didn’t confirm it, but figured that it was a safety measure to keep sunlight off of the vampires that were possibly inside.

Inside Vein on Main looked like a casino with various shades of burgundy and neon red.  No natural light, but the mirrored bar was backlit, and there were stained glass lamp shades hanging down over the dark booths to your right. A synth-wave techno beat thumped from unseen speakers as curls of smoke from the end of cigarettes gathered into a gray cloud. At the far back was a pool table and a stage in the corner on a riser with a bunch of musical equipment set up.

You saw Erica behind the bar, and were about to go over to say hello to her, but a cold hand clamped down on your shoulder.  

“Just the one I wanted to see,” Jareth’s voice rumbled in your ear.  

He was the last one you expected to bump into in a human/vampire crossover bar.  He’d always been much too above such things.  His blonde hair was slicked back, his blue eyes burning with intensity.

“How did you get in here in the middle of the day?” 

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically.  Older vampires like Jareth didn’t need to sleep as much as the younger ones, so he had more time to get up to mischief.  

“No but really,” you looked him up and down, noting that he was still in the standard, fashionable Jareth attire, and then glanced around to the handful of other patrons.  “What are you doing here?”

He glared at you skeptically.  “Why wouldn’t I be here? This is my bar.”

“What about Sacrament?”

“It’s still there,” he crossed his arms over his chest, curious about this odd line of questioning but, he decided to indulge you. “There’s an underground tunnel that connects the two.”

The new information was all very…disorientating, to say the least. You felt like your head was spinning, like you might possibly throw up or something.

“And Bob? What did you do with him?” There was a hint of frustrated anger in your tone.  

“Bob and Maxine run the place.  I am more of what you would call…a silent partner.” He pushed into your space, towering over you as if he might lower his head for a kiss.  “But you know this already, don’t you, Dove?”

You turned away, snatching his elbow to pull him into a booth with you.  He stood fast at first, not wanting to follow, but then slowly obliged.

“Listen, this will probably sound crazy,” you started.

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” He laced his fingers together on the polished wood table top.

A long exhale and then you laced your fingers on the table.  “Have you ever heard of anyone, um, jumping timelines?”

He sat back, expressionless.  “Are you saying that’s what happened to you?”

“Maybe, yes, yeah,” you paused to wonder if you should tell him  “I’m pretty sure know that is what happened to me, but I didn’t think it was possible.”

You told him about the past 48 hours, and about the letter you received from some unknown person.  

He gave it some thought, spreading his hands out flat to tap his thumbs on the table.  

“I’ve heard stories,” he appraised you with his chin tilted down. “But I’ve never met a Jumper in person.”

“Well, nice to meet you.”

“I always knew there was something about you,” he smirked.  “I knew you weren’t exactly human, but could never put my finger on it.”

“Congratulations.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Jareth gave a micro shrug.  “If somehow you stepped into a nearby timeline, I wouldn’t know how to put you back.”

“I can’t believe how calm you are about this.”

The last time you saw Jareth, he was at your trailer park ripping Brenner and the rest to shreds with the help of a swarm of other vampires. You wanted to thank him, but then realized that was from another timeline he might not remember.

Jareth continued. “Maybe you were pulled into this timeline for a reason.  Maybe you weren’t meant to understand.”

You nodded absently, looking around at the new Vein on Main, feeling like you should wake up at any moment.  

“You said the letter you received was dated a year from now? Ever think you might’ve written it to yourself?”

Head spinning, might definitely puke.

“Maybe something worse happens in that other timeline and you jumped over to this one to avoid disaster.”

What if something bad happened to Eddie in that other timeline…

You couldn’t get over how chill about the whole mess Jareth was being.  Maybe all of the things he’d experienced in the 3,000 some years he’d been a vampire made it so nothing surprised him.

“One thing I have heard about Jumpers…” he waited to finish until a group of giggling humans walked by.  “...they eventually forget about the old timeline.  Somehow they assimilate to the current one and sync up with the memories.  It’s likely that one day, this one will be your new normal, and the other one will feel like a dream you had.”

You weren’t sure if that should comfort you or make you cry.

“Did I at least make a move on you in that other timeline?” Jareth wet his lips while he stared at you.  

“Absolutely not,” you responded with a slight roll of your eyes.  “Never going to happen in this one, either.”

“Never say never,” his grin was evil in the most charming way.

All you wanted to do at that point was go back to your trailer to sit on the floor and wait for Eddie to wake up.  

After a stop at the grocery store and gas station, that was exactly what  you did.  

—-------

The daylight seemed to last forever.  You reread the mysterious letter countless times, let Bela out for a few hours of flying, watched two episodes of Outer Limits with Dio curled up in your lap purring, and paced around the house, glancing at the horizon every so often. 

When the sun finally settled into a deep purple sea, you were kneeling at the front of the door when you heard the inside lock jiggle. 

“You’re here,” you exhaled a long-held breath, grinning so wide it felt like your cheeks might break while you braced the door open.  You also took that opportunity to snap a photo of him with your Polaroid camera, one of him with an expression caught between amusement and surprise.  It would end up being one of your most cherished photos of him.

“You sound surprised,” he chuckled.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes with the knuckle of one hand as he made his way up the steps with a yawn.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile that big before,” he remarked groggily. 

“I had this weird feeling you’d…disappear or something.”

“Nah,” he came up the final step and then crawled on top of you, making you go flat on the ground with a laugh, dropping the door down with a bang as you went.  “You’re stuck with me now, I’m afraid.”

You held his face with both hands, enjoying the weight of his body, the soft moaning and playful flicks of his tongue on yours.  

He lifted up to trace your mouth and chin with his finger.  “Did you have a good day while I was asleep?”

“I really missed you.” 

You tried to kiss him again, but he pulled further away, giving himself a double chin.  “Does that mean you like me?”

“I’m still deciding,” your eyes were full of stars as you searched his face. 

His hips rolled against you, giving away that his length was already hard, straining against his denim.  You reached down to feel him, popping open two of the buttons on his jeans while you were down there.

“Yeah?” He whispered, hooking two fingers inside the leg of your loose shorts to graze your panty line.  “You want this?”

“I want you,” his mouth was on yours before you could say another word, cradling his hand behind your head.

When he finally sank in with a moan, you grabbed onto his ass with both hands, urging him closer.

“I love those noises you make,” he mumbled, twitching inside of you.  

Your shirt was pushed up, and you’d probably have rugburns on your back later, but right then you didn’t care.  All you wanted was to be was as close to him as physically possible.

Eddie shivered when he was seated fully inside, practically purring at the way your nails scratched up his back.

“Bite me,” you gasped, offering the throbbing artery in your throat to him.

He paused, breathless, sliding his nose along your ear.  “I don’t want to take too much.  Last night was—-”

“Please.” You flexed and rippled around his cock, making him whine.  He’d cum in two seconds if you kept doing that.  “Just a quickie.”

“Just a quickie, she said,” he hummed. “Sweetheart you have no idea how true that is going to be if you keep squeezing me like that.”

The euphoria that rolled though you when he fed from your vein, coupled with the quickening of his hips when he was close made your eyes roll back in your head.  He slowed down, didn’t want to finish before you, but you clamped your legs around him.

He unlatched from your throat with a hiss, fangs stained and dripping. “The things you do to me, holy shit—-”

“Wait wait,” you pulled his face back up so that he would look at you.

He stilled with a frown. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just wanted…” you trailed off, heart wailing like a steam engine in your chest.

Still throbbing hard inside of you, he gave a hopeful smirk.  “Did you want to tell me that you like me?”

“No.” You said softly, hearing his throat click when he swallowed.  “But I think I might be in love with you.”

He froze, making sure he heard you correctly, thinking about maybe asking you to say it again just so he could hear it.  

He rocked further inside, smashing his mouth onto yours in a way that made you whimper, taking your hand to interlace his fingers.

“Holy shit I love you,” he panted.  “I’ve never felt this way before and I should’ve told you, I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid that—-”

“Shhhh.”. 

The next few hours brought more of the same, with Eddie never tiring and you craving him in a way that was animalistic.  Against the wall, in the shower, on the countertop, and you were both finally able to say the words that had been bubbling up in your chest for a while. 

Eddie tucked you in when you fell asleep, and then went over to his place to change clothes and call Gary to see if there was any work available at the chop shop.  

For some reason, it didn’t occur to either of you to talk about why everything was different, or why his trailer wasn’t a charred wreck. He’d been shot the night before with silver bullets and almost died, but it never got brought up in conversation again.

You’d fully intended to show him the letter, to tell him about the conversation you’d had with Jareth, but then somehow it simply slipped your mind.  

Bela came swooping in the next morning, yapping away like she had a story to tell, and you wished you could speak her language.  You remembered the night you rescued her, on your way back from the Upside Down with Eddie.  

Why had you gone to Sacrament that night? A date maybe? No, Eddie needed to talk with Jareth, that’s what it was.  You were just tagging along.

While you were pondering that night, you had this sudden lightheaded feeling, stumbling over your feet before you thankfully caught yourself on the kitchen island.  Making your way down the hallway to the bathroom, you felt like you were on a funhouse floor that was shifting, so you leaned into the wall to catch your bearings.

Splashing water on your face would have to do.  You ran the water as cold as possible, and when you saw your reflection in the mirror, you had one of those moments when you didn’t recognize your own face.

Surely, it happens to everyone from time to time, but have your eyes always been two different colors? One was an icy blue, and the other was light green, almost hazel.  As if your eyeballs belonged to two completely different people.

The scars, they were familiar.  Down your chest, along your jaw, at your shoulders, at your knees and down to your right foot. 

After a few deep breaths, your legs no longer felt like jello.  

You found a strange typed letter in your bag, but it didn’t make any sense, so you figured it was garbage and threw it away.  

—---------

Hopper roused up from a nap shirtless, still wearing his work trousers, to the smell of brown sugar baked salmon coming from the kitchen, and he sat up with a smile on his face.  Scratching his head, he changed into something more comfortable; a navy tee with a front pocket and jeans.  

“Smells good,” he called from the bathroom where he used a boar bristle brush on his hair and put a little cologne on.  He paused to appreciate the way there were two toothbrushes in the ceramic holder by the sink.  

He couldn’t believe this was his life, didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it.  

He had to part a heavy floor to ceiling curtain to get to the other part of the house.  It was hours from sunset, but still there was not a drop of natural light to be seen.  He’d renovated half of the trailer to be daylight safe for vampires–one vampire in particular— including covering the windows with metal sheeting that could be lifted at night, if they desired.

“I hope I didn’t leave it in for too long,” Joyce fussed with the rooster print potholders, bending over to get the dish out of the oven.  

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he followed her over to set the dish on the table and kissed the top of her head just before she finished what she was doing to wrap her arms around him.

“What about you?” He tipped her chin up to gaze lovingly at her face.  “Hungry?”

They had a case of NuBlood Type B for when she was in a pinch, but he preferred for her to have the real thing, he didn’t much care for the idea of her sustaining on that synthetic crap.  So, he took his iron supplements and stayed healthy, and became her main source of food.  She was never greedy, she always knew just how much to take.  

But that night, he had a surprise for her.  

“One moment,” she watched with adoring eyes as he opened a cupboard above the stove that was much too high for her to reach.  He pulled down what looked like a bottle full of corked red wine and presented it to her with a proud grin.

“Ordered it from that vampire mixology show you like,” he let her take it so she could read the label, her mouth set in an O of fascinated awe.

“Plasma donated by a meditation guru who only ate tangerines for a week. They say it’s some tasty shit.”

“Hopper,” she clutched the bottle with the yellow label to her chest and tilted her head to beam up at him.  “You didn’t have to do that, it must’ve cost a fortune.”  

He stared at her, unable to gauge her reaction.  “You don’t like it?”

“No I love it!” She gushed, snuggling into his embrace again.  “Nothing could ever taste better than my man, though.”

He rested his chin on her head, grinning like a fool.  “One day I’ll kick the nicotine habit and it will taste even better.”

“Well, don’t do it for me, you’ve gotta quit for yourself.”  She scooted away to take a bean salad out of the fridge.  

She always got up early to start her day so that they could have a meal together before she left for her job as a night time stocker at the local grocery store.  Hopper would wake up before sunrise to be able to spend time with her before she went underground to the safe cubby he’d built.  More and more, he considered becoming a vampire himself, just to be able to spend more time with her, but that would be a talk for another day.  

The table was set with a bouquet of wild, pink poppies, and then a plate with silverware for him, and a glass for her.  She’d been sad to give up real food for those first couple months when she was first turned, but by then, almost a decade later, she was amazed at how much she didn’t crave it.

“I had the darndest dream just now,” he cracked open a cold Schlitz and it fizzed.  

“Oh yeah? What about?” 

He almost didn’t want to say it out loud.

“It was a nightmare really.  You were dating Bob.”

Joyce burst out in a bubble of a laugh.  “Bob Newby? Of all people.  I do like Bob, though, he’s a nice man.”

“You like him more than me?” He teased, frowning.

“Hopper, please.”

He took a sip of beer.  “I was addicted to V in the dream.  Lonely, and hated my life.”

“Addicted to V, huh? That’s a tough one.” Joyce searched his face with sincere concern.

Vampire blood, or V, was sold illegally to recreational users, and it was highly addicting.  

He leaned forward, sliding his big hand up her arm.  “I’m addicted to you.”

Before they kissed she hummed, “you’re insatiable,” and then took another sip of her imported treat.

After the sunset, they sat out on the porch for a while, looking up at the stars.  Joyce nestled between Hopper’s legs with her back against his stomach in one of the lounge chairs, fingers intertwined at her middle. They talked about the kids, how Joyce’s son Will, who was also a vampire, would be joining them for dinner/breakfast on Sunday, and Jonathan would be bringing his girlfriend home to visit for the holidays.  Hopper’s daughter Sarah was on a backpacking trip across Europe, and their fridge was covered in postcards from her travels.  She called Hopper collect from Greece that day and told him she’d found a job there and planned to stay a bit longer.  He said he was happy for her, but it made his heart hurt to know he wouldn’t see her again until next year.  

“I’m pretty happy with this little life of ours,” Joyce said softly.

Hopper planted his lips on the top of her head.  “There’s no other timeline I’d want to be in.”

—-----

Eddie rolled up to the chop shop in the white porsche he’d lifted from the parking garage of a fancy restaurant in town.  He tipped the valets well, and they never gave him the keys, but were fine with turning their backs so that he could do his work.

From the dark alleyway, metal sparks were flying in the open garage door, and the sound of an electric drill buzzed away from the several other employees working the night shift.  Gary handed him an envelope full of cash for the car, and the first thing that came to Eddie’s mind was buying you that rare Kurt Vonnegut copy you’d had your eye on at Robin’s bookstore. 

He made his way through the busy work area to the back entrance where he’d parked the GTO.  It was still primer gray and needed a lot of interior work, but he liked working on it with Wayne, it was a way for them to bond.  

The moon was not yet full.  Maybe a few more days and it would be.  He stopped to stare up at it for a few beats, wondering if you were battling insomnia again and possibly looking up at it too.

It was late winter, so the sun wasn’t up for a while, and he had plenty of time to get you an iced coffee and have it waiting in the fridge for when you woke up.  He used the spare key tied around his neck when he got to your trailer and tip-toed in, trying not to rustle the knob so he didn’t wake you up.

But you were there on the couch next to Bela watching television.  Bela stuck her whole face into the bowl of dry cereal before her and came up with colorful Fruity Pebbles stuck to her lips while she munched, making growing sounds.  

“How long have you been up?” He took his leather jacket and battle vest off to hook them on the back of the door, revealing a Warlock shirt with the collar ripped out.  

“Dad’s on the news again,” you said without answering his question, without taking your eyes off the TV.  “He called last night to tell me about it, but I almost slept in and forgot.”

He sat down on the other side of Bela and stretched his hand along the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.  

Your father, the brilliant surgeon turned funeral director turned “mad scientist” in the media, was doing a tour as a guest speaker for several well-known universities.  A lot of people were fascinated by his brilliance, and his research on reanimating dead tissue, but some thought his work was an abomination.  

You were still his best kept secret.  He worked hard to keep the details of your life and your whereabouts hidden, but eventually you wondered if someone would find you.  You were the only human proof that his methods worked, but bringing your story to light would only put you at risk.  You no longer went by your birth name and everyone called you Dove.  He referenced you in public as his niece, and no one seemed to be asking any questions, at least not that you were aware of. 

“He’s wearing that tie we picked out for him,” Eddie noted proudly.  

When Bela finished her cereal and flew off to her perch near the window, you scooted into the nook made by Eddie’s open arm, smooching him before resting your head on his shoulder.  He had his knees spread wide, taking your hand the second it was close enough.

“I missed you tonight,” he mumbled into the side of your head.

“I work at the bar until late tomorrow.” You snuggled closer, putting our leg over his.  “You could pick me up and we could go steal cars together. I’d like to watch you work.”

It’d been a month since the first time you were intimate, and diving into a relationship felt like second nature.  You’d talked to Bob about letting you have more night shifts instead of working during the day, and he was enthusiastically understanding, clapping his hands together to rub them back and forth conspiratorially.  “I smell a romance blossoming.” 

Eddie came in one time for a drink at the bar and Argyle said, “dude, it’s weird to see you not all grumpy and sulking.”  And then Eddie caught your eye from across the room and gave you a little wiggle of his fingers, unable to wipe the permanent smile off of his face.  

For the first time you really felt like you’d found a home somewhere.  But also, there were things happening that were truly…odd.

In the sock draw in your bedroom, you found a few polaroids you didn’t remember taking.  

One was of a hearse that was the same make/model as yours, but it was solid black instead of black with white pinstriping.  Another was of what looked like Vein on Main, with Bob waving at you from the doorway.  The neon in the floor to ceiling window said Main Vein.  Had it been remodeled before you came to work there? But if so, how had you been the one to snap the photo?

You also found a key on your keyring that did not look familiar.  It was smaller than the rest with blunt, jagged teeth.

You showed it to Eddie, thinking it might be to open a glove box or something car related.

He brought it up close for examination, going cross-eyed.  “It almost looks like one of those gas cap keys, but your hearse isn’t that old.  To a secret diary, maybe?”

“I never write in a diary.  You know that.”  

“Well,” he sniffed.  “Let me put my Columbo hat on and crack this case.”

You could see his mind racing as he took it around the trailer, trying it in any lock he could find, including the front door knob, which was silly, but he had to rule it out. 

“Babe, what are you doing down there?”  You asked when you walked into the bedroom to find him on his stomach, fishing around under the bed with a flashlight.

“Just ticking all the boxes, my love,” he responded with a grunt.  He crawled in more so that you could only see him from the waist down.  His butt looked so cute wiggling there, you wanted to pinch it.  

“Ah ha!” He exhaled triumphantly, dragging something with him as he scooted back out. “I knew I saw a box under here when I was looking for Dio the other day.  By the way, you should really vacuum under there.  I think I saw a dust bunny with teeth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled, arms folded, waiting to see what he caught from the depths of the shadows.

“There,” he jerked a square gray case out by the handle, settling on his knees to wipe his bangs away from his eyes. “The one thing we haven’t checked.”

There were no markings on it, but you saw the tiny silver key hole lock right away, lowering yourself to the carpeted floor next to him.  Hard shell case with worn corners as if it had seen quite a few travels.  There was a texture to it, and if you closed your eyes, it felt like snakeskin.  

“Do you know what’s in it?” His gaze flicked to your profile. “It weighs a ton.”

You turned your head from side to side.  “I’ve never seen that case in my life,” and that realization prickled your flesh.  “But maybe it was left here by the last tennant?”

“Why would you have the key, though?”

You turned to stare at each other, unsure of what else to say.  

“Try it,” he offered you the key, clearing his throat.

“I’d rather you did it.”

“Certainly,” but he said in a voice that mimicked Curly from the Three Stooges.  

The key fit, and when he twisted it, the latch clicked, and you held your breath.

“Drumroll,” Eddie flipped the latch up.

“Please just open it.”

He pushed the lid back and the metal hinges creaked.

Jaws unhinged, you both stared at the smoke gray Royal typewriter for a few beats, cocking your heads to the side in tandem.  

“A vintage typewriter.” Eddie stated the obvious.

“My mom used to have one like that,” you whispered it under your breath, not even meaning to say it out loud.

“So it is yours?” he waited.

“Um,” you ran the tips of your fingers along the edge.  “It must be.”

But, surely you would have remembered lugging that thing around.  In your mind's eye, you could see your index finger doing chicken pecks over the keys, but yet couldn’t recall anything you’d written.

“Do you have any paper?” Eddie got to his feet.  “We could try it out.”

“In the bottom drawer over there, I think,” pointing to the desk against the wall with three drawers down one side.

He carried the heavy piece of equipment out into the kitchen island to test it, rolling the paper in manually and clicking the typebar until it dinged into place.  

Akfj giahkasras va auiwyrg is what he typed.  

“There’s a letter missing,” he noted, taking a better look at the metal teeth inside.  

“It’s the N,” you said before he could.  It was almost as if you knew which letter it would be with your eyes closed.  It was stuck, jammed in place. 

“I think I know a guy who could fix that,” your boyfriend said softly, wanting to be helpful.  “Wonder if some WD-40 would do the trick.”

After Eddie left for an interview at the body shop of a popular vampire car dealership, you stared up at the fan on the ceiling of your bedroom, unable to sleep.  Bela was on one of her nocturnal adventures, Dio was back on her window perch at Eddie’s place, and you vibrated there in the loud silence.  The night sounds were more menacing, the flap of the loose shingle on the roof suddenly sounded like someone walking around up there. 

You were just starting to fade when you heard the click clack of the typewriter keys.

clickityclackclackclickityclack…Whack…DING

Adrenaline surged through your body and your eyes shot open, freezing there while invisible spiders swarmed your flesh.

But then, everything went quiet.  A full, creeping silence that made your ears ring. 

You held your breath and an owl hooted out in the woods.  What if you’d dozed off more than you realized and the sound was part of a dream?

Your gaze shifted slowly to land on the entrance to the hallway, waiting to hear creaking footsteps followed by a figure standing there. Maybe a tall creature with long arms and clawed hands and red eyes that glowed in the dark. After several minutes of nothing, you pulled yourself together, recognized your own strength, and kicked your feet out of bed.

Hands balled into fists, skin buzzing, you padded softly to the mouth of the hallway, keeping to the shadows, out of view of anyone who happened to be standing in the kitchen.  Maybe some elves and faeries came to fix the stuck N key.

ClickclickClackclackclick

Slower that time, but someone was definitely out there messing with your shit.

You rolled your back flat against the wall, hiding, thinking of a weapon you could use.  The ballpoint pen in the bedside drawer was the only thing you could come up with, and you brandished it like a knife at your ear with the point out.  

“Eddie is that you?” Voice wavering, you hovered just beyond the door frame.

The silence only thickened.

You felt that surge of electricity crackle along your muscles and your breathing deepened.

Who needs a pen when you can shoot lightning bolts out of your fingers?

After a sharp intake of breath, you closed the distance between the bedroom and the hallway lightswitch, flicking it on.

You’d been prepared for the worst, possibly some hulking monster with vampire fangs and blood dripping off its claws. Something like your boyfriend but darker, older. Hungrier.

But you were alone in the trailer. 

Your heart pumped ice cold blood through your veins as you made sure to check behind the kitchen island.

Nothing.  No one.  

You lifted your hands up in front of your face to find that there were snaps of electricity idling there, building power in case you needed it.  Your eyes darted to each of the windows, thinking one was open or shattered, but everything appeared to be just how you left it before bed.  

“Hello?” One more time for good measure.  “Eddie, I hope you aren’t fucking with me.”

Still nothing, and you knew in your heart that he wouldn’t fuck with you like that.  Tease you and be a brat in other ways, sure, but he’d never make you think there was the threat of an intruder, not after everything.

The closer you inched into the room, the more it became clear that there was writing on the piece of paper rolled into the feed of the typewriter.

Right underneath Eddie’s Akfj giahkasras va auiwyrg was:

Hello Dove

I k ow you ca ’t wrap your head arou d this right  ow

But Eddie is i  da ger

Nostrils flaring as you read it, you spun around, expecting to find someone standing right behind you.

Nothing. No one.  

But then

The keys were moving again, depressed by invisible fingers.  

The two of you are  o lo ger safe i  Hawki s

A memory clicked in your head about the Remington rifle with the M84 scope hidden in the wall in your closet that was loaded with silver bullets.  Brass knuckles, hunting knives, and plastic flexi cuffs, among others.  You had an arsenal of things for capture and killing.  

O ce you have read this you must bur  it

A d the replace the paper and await further instructio s

Slowly, you tugged the single piece of paper out of the feeder in one swipe and only hesitated for a moment before aggressively crumpling it up into a ball.

You picked up the yellow lighter near the phone and lit the edge on fire before tossing  it into the ceramic sink and watched it turn to charcoal ash.

You’d killed before. Many times. Humans and monsters alike.

…but why did you feel like you were just now realizing that fact?

And now someone was after Eddie.

You fed a fresh sheet of paper in, but after an hour, no new words appeared.

You had no idea how it worked, but wondered if maybe it could function as a two-way conversation.

Your palms were sweating as you poised your fingers over the keys.

“Who are you?”  You typed, each letter falling like a brick, almost afraid to know the answer.

Clickclickclick the keys snapped as soon as you finished.

I am you

…….

a other versio  of you

but also we are the same

……

When Eddie got home, you’d been watching from the window and leapt into his arms before he could step all the way through the door.

“Fuck, finally,” you said in a slightly whiny tone, unable to help yourself.  You’d been sitting there bouncing your knee and letting your anxious thoughts run wild.  You’d called the garage, but Gary had no idea where he went and you really wished Eddie would get a beeper.  

He returned the embrace, grinning sappily into the side of your neck.  “Good to know you didn’t get another boyfriend while I was at work.”

You wouldn’t let him go, it felt too good to be able to touch him, to know he was okay.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, pushing you far enough away so that he could see your face and the water at your lash line.  His cold, dead heart ached at the sight.  “What’s this all about? Did something happen?”

You let him take his leather off, and then you told him about the Twilight Zone typewriter.

Paper fed into the rubber roller, you both sat staring at it in silence and prickling anticipation.  Eddie fed Bela saltine crackers and she ate them messily, snorting every so often as she sucked them down.  

“What if we talk to it first,” Eddie suggested, knowing that you had succeeded at that earlier.  

“I have so many questions, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

He sat forward on the sofa,  his hands in the shape of claws, hovering over the letters.  “May I?”

You wet your lips nervously and scooted closer to him.  “Sure, be my guest.”

He blew a long breath out of tight lips before wetting them again, eyes darting over the machine.

…..

This is Eddie. Is there a other versio  of me there? I’d like to ask him some questio s.

…..

He pulled his hands back as if in a form of surrender, staring at the blank white space.

Nothing happened for what seemed like an hour but was really only 2 minutes and then—-

Eddie is ’t here

……

Your heart rate spiked, and you were about to speak, but then the ghost typing continued.

You  eed to fi d Jareth

…..

Eddie is in da ger

You shouted at the piece of machinery then.  “Why is Eddie in danger?  From who?  Enough with the cryptic shit.”

Eddie took the liberty of typing a few words in for you and waited, gnawing at the inside of his cheek..

Another 30 seconds that felt like a million

The Fellowship of the Su 

Eddie fell back stiffly on the couch at that, staring blankly at the words.

“What is that last word? Sun? What the hell is the Fellowship of the Sun?”

Even as  you asked, you could tell by the look on his face that it was bad.

“They’re a group of religious extremists who think vampires are an abomination and don’t support the new laws that give us rights and let us be a part of society.  They don’t think we should exist at all, actually.”  He took a deep breath.  “They’re pretty dangerous babe.”

“Well I’m pretty dangerous too,” you mumbled, cracking your neck. You ran your hands up and down your face a few times exhaling a ragged groan.

“Wasn’t Jesus a vampire?” You mused more to yourself, but Eddie was quick to shrug and agree that he always thought so.  

Your fingers hit heavy as you punched out the words.

Tell me what I  eed to do.

For a moment there, you felt utterly foolish and out of body.  Talking to some other secret version of you about vampire stealing Jesus freaks on a broken typewriter, of all things?  But you had to focus, you didn’t have the luxury of doubting whoever was at the other end of the words.

Other You considered switching you to another timeline again, but too much of that could mess irrevocably with a person’s head.  This was the only timeline when your dad lived to be an elderly man, the only timeline when Hopper and Joyce could find their happiness, and those things mattered to you. Both Other You and Current You.

It was also one of the only timelines that you knew of where they eventually discovered a cure for vampirism.  That meant Eddie could have the choice to live out a mortal life with you, if he wanted that.  A family and daywalking together would all be an option again.

 eed to fi d Jareth

Other You repeated, and then: He will k ow what to do

You asked a few more questions over the next hour but did not receive any further communication.  Eddie sank back on the couch while you remained hunched forward and he rubbed comforting circles on your back with the palm of his hand.  

After staring at one spot on the paper for another few seconds, you settled back against him with a huff, curling one leg over his and wrapping an arm around his chest while your head nestled at his shoulder.

“Do you think we should leave Hawkins?” Your words were the first ones spoken.  “Just hit the road and get as far away as we can? Dye our hair, change our names, I don’t care.”

“If you go, I go,” he mumbled into your temple.  “But I think the You on the other side of the typewriter has a point. Jareth could hide us in the Upside Down for a while.  The fellowship would have a hard time getting to us there. They’re petrified of that place.”

You closed your eyes.  “Why would they want to hurt you?”

He grabbed the crook of your knee to pull your leg closer.  “Because they hate vampires, baby.  They want us all to go Back in the Coffin, as they say.”

“If you go, I go,” you twisted closer, nuzzling the side of his throat.

“Speaking of going,” he groaned, not wanting to face reality.  “I need to get underground.  The sun will be up in like, ten minutes.”

Ugh, you hated being apart from him for such a long period during the day, especially now that he might be a target.  But at least you could put the couch over the door in the floor and always know he was safe as long as you or Bela were around.  

He took a few sips of plasma from your wrist while your mouth was on his cock.  It was a risk so close to sunrise, but you rolled your tongue around his shaft and flicked it at the tip in a way that had him shivering and moaning your name while you swallowed his cum after only a few minutes.

Breathless, he threw his head back.  “Holy shit jesus christ I fucking love you.”

You hopped to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.  “Okay now we need to get you to bed.  Quick quick.”

“That’s okay,” he sighed, unmoving.  “I’ll just perish right here.”

“Not on my watch,” you giggled, yanking him up while he fumbled to put his dick back into his jeans.

When he was at the bottom of the hidey hole, you got on your knees at the entrance and held the door, preparing to close it.  “I’m not going to work today, so I’ll be here.  Shout if you need me.”

“I will,” his eyes seemed to sparkle while he stared up at you, admiring. “I fucking love you.”

“Ditto,” the word put a catch in your throat.  Why did it feel like you were saying goodbye to him?

When the darkness finally took him and he sank back to where the mattress was, you shut the carpeted door and then put your hand on it, as if you could still feel his cool flesh through it.

Standing with a weary breath, you moved the couch and thought about the phone calls you needed to make.  Hopper, Argyle, and the rest of the vampires and their allies that you were friends with.  If Eddie was in danger, perhaps they all were.  

You had to call Vein on Main to find out where Jareth was, and they patched you through to Sacrament.  

When he picked up on the second ring, he said hello to you before you even said who was calling.  Caller ID perhaps?  You didn’t have time to wonder.

“I need your help. I think Eddie might be in danger,” you spoke quickly, bursting with urgency.

At the other end, Jareth was as calm as ever.  “And this should concern me, why?”

“Does the Fellowship of the Sun ring a bell?”

You could hear the ancient vampire go ridgid.  His voice changed, lowering to almost a whisper.  “How do you know about them?”

“It’s a long story,” to say the least.  “Someone told me I could trust you with this.  That you could help us.”

He was so quiet, you wondered if he’d disconnected, but then it sounded like he walked into another room and closed the door.  You could no longer hear the rapid techno beat of club music in the background.  

“What if getting rid of Eddie was all part of my plan?” He smirked into the phone.  “Then I could have you all to myself.”

“Please, Jareth. We don’t have time for this.”

He cleared his throat.  “I did hear that the Fellowship were closing in on Hawkins, but they are no match for—”

“I don’t think we should underestimate them,” you said softly.  “Could we meet up later tonight? After sunset? There is something I need to discuss with you, but not over the phone.”

You wondered if you should tell him about the magical typewriter and the version of you from a parallel life. 

What if there was a chance he already knew about it?

“Come after your shift, around 3,” he said.  “I’ll ask Maxine not to hassle you at the door, but no promises.”

After the phone call, you turned on the news to see the female President of the Vampire Coalition arguing with a man who was a pastor from the Fellowship of the Sun.

“You vermin don’t belong here in our streets indoctrinating our children with your bloodlust and fornicaiton!” The balding pastor barked.  “And we’re going to shine god's light on you and send you back to the hell you came from.”

Sophie Ann Bledsoe, the president of the coalition, had sea blue eyes, a brunette bob of hair, and muted wine lips.  She looked like a soccer mom, not a member of the dangerous undead.

“If you’d give me a chance to speak,” she said calmly, watching Pastor Daniels grow red in the face. “I will assure you that we are peaceful, productive members of society—-”

“I won’t listen to this devil!” The pastor turned away, toward the camera, and then a moderator intervened with a few diplomatic words before the broadcast went to a commercial.  

You could see rage in that pastor’s eyes: he wanted to wipe vampires off the planet.

But then, the television screen flickered to static and back again.

You swore you saw an image, nothing but an outline, but familiar all the same. 

Had there been a voice? Someone whispering your name over the political news broadcast?

You waited, but the flicker never happened again.  

Before you bent to click off the set, your head did a slow turn to glance over your shoulder at the typewriter squatting like doom on the coffee table.  

Maybe it wasn’t doom, maybe it was hope, and you considered that while the winter sun broke through the trees, blanketed by clouds.  

The next place your eyes landed was the hatch in the floor that had yet to be covered up by the wagon wheel sofa.  You had a few things to get done that day, but when the sun finally set, you knew you’d be kneeling there, waiting for Eddie to take your hand and be your partner in crime for the evening.

There was something like a memory itching at your brain, but a distant one that belonged to someone else, like an echo in a dark hallway.

A memory of you and Eddie in your trailer, but it was a dark, royal blue, raining with strange particles that looked like snow but danced on the air like fluff from a dandelion.  The trees and the grass were dead, and the sky was void of stars, like a bleak landscape painted from a nightmare. The ground split open in places like jagged knife wounds that never healed; they reminded you of your scars. 

The Upside Down.

Bela was perched on your shoulder in the vision, and Eddie had a rifle strapped to his back.  You needed food and supplies, but you didn’t want him to go alone.  The three of you had survived this long, and so together you would stay.  You knew the typewriter was hidden safely under the floorboards and you’d come back for it later.  

Eddie reached for your hand in the vision and you gave it, mirroring the look of adoration on his face.  The two of you were very much in love, but around you there was a sense of horror in the air, edged with a feral determination to survive.

Survive what, exactly?

But then you blinked and the sensory experience was gone.

There was the heavy thud of Bela landing on the roof above you, followed by fumbled rustling and a tiny growl of sorts that made you smile.  

You let her in and went over to make some tea, warmed by a sudden calm that everything would be okay and no harm would come to the people you loved.

You’d make sure of it.

[staytinyville]

Twin Flames

To: @flurrys-creativity

From: Your Secret Admirer! The moment I saw that HALAZIA was one of your favorite songs I just had to create this stroy from my original works. HALAZIA is my favorite song as well. It was the one that inspired the original novel in its entirety. So I wanted to make something within my universe. I do hope you love the world building. There is so much more I wish I could go over but one thing at a time!

↣ Summary: In a world where magic exists, you had creatures that were created in order to help those who were able to harness the power of the sun and the moon. Each creature has a special connection with their creators. Those created by Witches were followers of the moon. And those created by Faeries were with the sun. However for some creatures, they were connected to their creators on a much deeper meaning. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader

↣ Genre: Fluff, Angst

↣ AU/Trope info: Vampire!Seonghwa, Witch!Reader, Historical!au, Twin Flames!au

↣ Word Count: 6.6k

↣ Warnings: blood (It’s a vampire fic lol), revenge killing, murder (Nothing too extreme)

↣ A/N: If you guys were interested, this is actually based in my original novel. There was a lot of world building I really loved in this and the main story is based on modern time vampire/witch romance. In the book though, creatures don’t exist because they gave up their powers. This takes place way before the start of the actual book but it is a good start to the approach on why people were giving up their abilities. 

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↣ Affiliates: @pirateeznet , @cultofdionysusnet , @wonderlandnet , @cromernet , @monsterfvckersunited

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You couldn’t remember a time when your family didn’t have their herbal shop. It was the shop that had been in your family for generations helping those who needed it. The long line of witches you came from hailed to be some of the best in the region. In your village the only two magical families were your own–and the Jung’s, who were faeries in their own respective rights. 

There wasn’t much of a difference in what your family and Jung’s practiced–in fact there was none at all. If one was to get them confused it wouldn’t be a problem. The only reason that made witches different from faeries was their souls. It was common knowledge that witches and faeries were split from the same soul. However, the thing that made them different was chaos and order. One was the calm that connected with the soothing light of the moon, while the other was the disorderly that played in the sun. 

In the village though, there was no harsh competition between the two families. Not when you knew that one of the Jung’s was connected to you on a cosmic level. He was your soulmate–the platonic kind. And your family saw nothing wrong with it so they practiced their own things on their own. You kept the middle Jung from trouble and he was the one who pushed you to go out of the norm. It was well balanced as the universe intended. 

Now with your family's shop, you were in charge of it when they were gone–seeing as you were going to be the one to continue the legacy. You would often help customers find what they needed, create spells that would heal wounds, flesh out spirits that were attached to another person, banish entities that meant harm to others. It was the everyday life of a witch–one you cared for dearly. 

It let you know that you still had the power of the moon behind you. You didn’t take them for granted. You didn’t overuse their gift or for personal reasons. Oftentimes you would turn to it when you needed guidance or help in learning something about yourself. It was the mother that had given you what you were. The reason you were a witch. 

“Have a good day!” You smiled, bowing your head at the kind elven woman who had come to ask for a healing jar. 

You handed her the glass, checking it over one last time to make sure the salve was sealed tightly and nothing spilled out. You allowed her hand to touch yours, closing your eyes and giving one last prayer to the moon to allow the salve to have the magical properties it needed. 

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” The woman beamed, bowing her head in thanks. 

You showed the woman out, waving your hand as she disappeared into the crowd. You turned to the other side of the road, hearing commotion as someone stopped at the small food stall that you often had food at. The owner was a mermaid, serving the best seafood dishes you could think of. While your village wasn’t that near water, there was still a large lake that had a lot of freshwater fish to enjoy. 

The commotion was between said owner and a larger than life man. Ogres weren’t that common as mermaids were because of their origins. While mermaids originated from Asia, ogres came from the northern region of Europe. In this time and age, it was common to find creatures all over the world but it was still likely you wouldn’t see them often. 

“We don't serve ogres here.” The owner sneered at the large man. 

“Please, I've been traveling so far.” The poor man sighed, trying to make himself look smaller. 

He glanced around at the patrons of the stall, taking note of all the looks he would get from them. Your shoulders dropped as you sighed deeply. Prejudice against certain creatures had always been around. Some got it more than others–if only because those who treated them poorly were scared of them. It hurt you inside to see how they treated each other. They were all created with the same magic. The magic that came from either the sun or the moon. 

“Go somewhere else.” The owner waved the ogre off, looking away from him angrily. “I don't need you taking up more space than needed.”

The ogre man didn’t argue, only bowed his head and turned to leave the stall. He glanced around for a moment once more, trying to find a place to eat. Without thinking, you went into your store and gathered some mushrooms and herbs that were edible. They were used for spells but that was only if you chose to work with them. In the end they were just normal herbs that could be used in food. 

Coming outside, you were lucky to find that the ogre didn’t go too far. So you rushed up to him, getting his attention as you held out your things for him to take. 

“Here you are.” You spoke softly, bowing your head. 

The man looked down at the things in his hand, glancing back up at you. Tears began to well in his eyes at how kind you were. It had been a long journey to reach the village for the man, and he was grateful that someone was willing to help him. He knew at that moment you were a witch, having the kind nature to help those in need. 

“Thank you.” He bowed deeply, holding the mushrooms close to his chest. 

And so you watched him continue on his way, shoulders dropping at the somber feeling that filled your chest. Things were changing when it came to the people who were on this earth. You didn’t know if it was for the better–or if it was for the worst. 

“Another family came to ask my parents if they could reverse their abilities.” Wooyoung explained to you as he leaned against the counter of your shop. 

You paused in your organizing for a moment before resuming what you were doing. It was few and far between that a new family had come to your or Wooyoung’s family shops to ask that they take away their abilities as creatures. It was them asking to reverse generations of DNA infused with one another. 

Creatures weren’t alway created with spells, they could be born as well. Once the spells became worldwide and other faeries and witches would cast them, it called for new species that would procreate more. It had been a long while since the last spell was casted that created a creature, so the ones who were there came from generational families. 

“They said there's hunters nearby.” Your friend added.

You felt a deep feeling within your stomach that clenched. Hunters were the humans who chose to willingly kill creatures. Humans were common like anyone else. However it became recent that they began to turn against the creatures.  

It had been a long while since creatures themselves began to turn against each other. The humans had begun this fear, causing everyone to notice other things about each other that usually called for peace. They started to become scared of each other because they would assume others had more power. It was starting to bring about a war that would cause all creatures to be wiped out. 

Whether from death because of another species or from them reversing their own abilities. 

“Why would they be here?” You sighed, turning to look at the boy. 

Everyone knew how close you and Wooyoung were. You couldn’t remember a time when you weren’t friends with the chaotic boy. You remembered the first time you had met him, back when you were both children learning to make friends in general. 

He was a bit too much for you, often getting too excited over things that made you give him a questioning look. But you were often paired with him because the other kids didn’t like to hang out with him because of his excited nature. He was too much to handle, but you always knew how to do that. 

Witches and faeries were soulmates, it was known. The universe had created them from the same soul so they were meant to be there for one another. And just like the universe planned, you were there with Wooyoung. You loved him as your other half–it was something the both of you could feel. But that didn’t mean you were lovers. 

While a large majority of the village thought you were, you knew the kind of preferences Wooyoung had and the kind you did. The love you had for each other was platonic. You were his person and he was yours. You knew if either one of you were in trouble the other wouldn’t be that far behind to save the day. 

“Maybe because our village is near the Park estate. I haven't seen them recently now that I think about it. Is it the hunters?” Wooyoung prattled off. 

“I wouldn't assume so.” You told him. 

The Park’s were considered like royalty in your town. It was known that they were one of the founding families, along with Wooyoung’s and some others. The Park’s however were the ones who knew a lot more about how to gather a community together. They were the ones who ran things and made sure to cater to the needs of its people. Mayors of sorts for the village. 

However as of recently, it has been known that the Park’s don’t come down from their castle on the hill. It’s been a few weeks since you had last seen any of them, which you did find to be odd but you didn’t question it because your parents told you not to. 

“They're probably up there staying young forever.” Wooyoung sighed wistfully. “That's why they stopped coming down.”

You frowned, glaring slightly at the boy for his statement. “They need to drink blood in order to do that.”

The Park’s were well known for being vampires. At least being known from what they tell other people. Vampires weren’t what the stories claimed them to be. They weren’t people who drank from people in order to feed. They were still human beings but with an ability that allowed them to drink blood. 

A vampire could eat food, get sick, and die like everyone else, it was when they would have a drop of blood that would heal them both from inside and out. They didn’t have sharp fangs that sprouted from their teeth or pale skin that was sensitive to the sun. What others found out later on after so many were created was that drinking blood continuously made a vampire strong and live longer. Essentially making them immortal. 

And once people found out just how powerful they could be with a simple drop of blood, greed easily took over the minds of the weak. 

“Maybe they come down at night.” Wooyoung continued the joke, a teasing smile on his face. 

“No one goes missing.” You rolled your eyes. “Wooyoung, they're not bloodsuckers.”

You finished what you had been doing with the herbs, moving along the counter to wait on the other side as you began to compile certain spell jars. Wooyoung turned around to face you, head placed in his arms that held him up.

“Wrong!” Wooyoung suddenly said. “They are! I hear the eldest son is 96. Can you imagine how wrinkly he'd be?” He giggled. 

The boy watched as your shoulders seemed to have straightened out at the mention of the Park son. He pursed his lips to keep from saying something, already knowing exactly how it was you felt about the boy. 

“Seonghwa is the same age as you and me.” You said, not making eye contact with him. “Mother delivered him. The Park's are not like those greedy vampires.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes with a huff. “You only say that because you're a witch. Have you even met him before?” He asked you, looking at you expectantly. 

“Once when I was a kid.” You smiled to yourself. “He was very kind.” 

You hadn’t grown up to be his friend–something you regret a lot. You could only remember it so well because of the way you had felt that day. You didn’t know what you barely a teenager body could possibly have been going through but you knew you had never felt that way with someone before. 

Years Before

You had been strolling through the village, making your rounds to scourge for herbs and the likes as you were on your way to find Wooyoung. You were passing by the wall that was stationed in front of the Park estate, frowning when you saw someone trying to walk along the top of it with their arms stretched out. 

You continued on your way slowly, not wanting to disturb them in case they lost focus. However, it seemed you didn’t need to because the moment you started walking again the boy fell over, scraping his knees on the ground. 

He hissed as he lifted his hands up to wipe them before sitting down on his bum to take a better look at his knee. The wall wasn’t that tall, probably reached your shoulders which meant you were able to see over it. So his fall wasn’t something that would majorly injure him. However since he fell wrong his knees did take a good hit on the dirt ground. 

You quietly gasped out when you saw his wound bubbling with blood, rushing over to check on him. “Are you okay?” You asked out of instinct, kneeling down to take a better look. 

The boy only looked at you with wide eyes, mouth closed shut as he watched you not even pay the proper attention to him. “I’m okay. I just scraped my knee.” He told you quietly. 

You finally looked up at him, feeling your shoulder tense up as you felt a blush settle over your face from his gaze. You tilted your head to the side though, frowning as your heart skipped a beat for a moment. At that moment, you also saw as he frowned as well moving to rub at his chest. 

Looking back down at his knee, you sat down your basket before rummaging through it to find what you needed. “I’ll heal your wounds.” You explained to him, taking your small knife to pick at the herbs you had. 

Before you placed anything on him, you handed him a small cloth telling him to wipe at the blood so you could do your work. He softly took the rag, giving you a smile before nodding his head. His fingers felt cold to the touch, but your skin still heated up. It reminded you of all the candles your family had around the shop. Like a comforting hug that surrounded you. You blushed, smiling back at him before going back to the basket. 

Your fingers moved idly over the herbs you knew are used to heal wounds. With only a select few that you had with you, you cut a piece of aloe vera and made sure to expose the gel inside. While you discarded the green part, you gathered a few sprigs of green tea leaves before turning to Seonghwa. 

He sat up straighter, having been caught staring as you went about your work. You giggled quietly, scooting closer to his leg and looking over it to make sure there was nothing dirty. When you saw he had cleaned up the excess blood, you carefully placed the cool gel pad of the aloe onto the scrape and rubbed it in with the leaves. 

“Hold this here, please.” You quietly told him. 

He listened, holding the aloe to his skin as your hands hovered over him. He watched you close your eyes and began to move your lips as hushed breaths came out. Your fingers messaged into his skin as a tingle seemed to flow throughout his muscles. His eyes went wide as he had realized that you were doing a spell on him, so he quickly turned to pay attention to what you were doing. 

Nothing came out from your fingers, in fact it didn’t even look like you were doing anything other than rubbing his knee. What he did feel though was a warming feeling that overtook his body. He was reminded of the times he spent watching the flames of a candle flicker back and forth as his nose breathed against it. 

He looked back at your face, smiling softly as you made him feel content. Before he knew it you were sitting back up and taking the aloe off his skin. “Oh you’re done.” He said, looking down at his knee. 

His eyes went wide again as he saw his skin had healed over and no more blood was coming out. The skin was pink though, a scar taking its place. Magic witches and faeries had was an amazing thing but not everything could be fixed completely. 

“Yeah.” You said. “The spell only makes the healing process go faster. Scars are still going to be there.”

Seonghwa looked over his knee, moving it back and forth. “That’s okay.” He grinned.

You both stood up from the ground, dusting yourselves off from the dirt. Just as he was about to ask for your name, someone had called for you. Looking around Seonghwa, you saw Wooyoung looking around for you with a frown on his face. 

“That’s my friend.” You told Seonghwa. “I have to get going.” You gave him a bow one last time, picking up your basket and skipping over to the faerie boy. 

As you walked away, you smiled sadly as you looked behind you one last time catching Seonghwa’s eyes. He gave you a smile, waving his hand. You laughed, waving back enthusiastically. When you turned around, you felt something flicker in your chest as a warmth spread throughout it. 

Present

“Sweet.” You added, remembering about the time you had met Seonghwa. 

“And he made me feel all warm inside as if I was standing next to a burning candle.” Wooyoung mocked in a high pitched voice. “As does every witch girl who comes across him. You aren't special.”

“I never said I was!” You sneered at him, throwing a bay leaf at him for mocking you. 

He began to let out a loud laugh that reminded you of a screech. But you couldn’t stand to tell him something about it. No matter how much he annoyed you and mocked you, you knew that you both loved each other too much. 

Wooyoung grew quiet for a moment, making you look over at him. He had a somber look on his face that made you worry a bit. Wooyoung had his moments where he was serious, especially if it had to do with his beliefs. But even then you still worried about his mental state in those times. Whether it was out of anger or sadness, you would always be able to tell when something was bothering him. 

“Do you think the hunters will come to our village next?” Wooyoung quietly asked. “What happens when they do?” He turned to look at you. 

You licked your lips, sighing to yourself. “I don't know, Woo.” You quietly said. 

That following night, your parents had left the shop in your care because they had something to attend to with the council. Wooyoung’s parents were also going to be out but they had placed their things in the care of Wooyoung’s older brother. The man himself was not going to keep the place from falling apart. 

You were getting things ready for closing when someone knocked on the door and you looked out towards the door. A tall man stood at the entrance, bowing his head when he noticed you turning around to face him. 

The candle light was too far from him for you to find out who exactly stood at the door, so you calmly raised your hand closer to some candles and whispered under your breath for protection just in case. 

However as he grew closer, your shoulders dropped and your fingers stopped their movements. You began to feel dizzy from the warm feeling surrounding you. You wanted to close your eyes and bask in its warmth but you had a customer to attend to. 

“I've come to speak to the head of this house.” He spoke, coming into view in the candle light. 

He was the tall and handsome type most people would fall for. The kind that makes people stop and stare from how regal he looked. It was only heightened with the kind of clothes he wore. They made him look taller, stronger with how much everything seemed to fit him. He called for attention, and he clearly had yours. 

“They're currently out of town.” You told the duke’s son. 

He finally had reached the counter, coming into light as the candle fully lit up his face. Park Seonghwa was someone who smiled at those in passing. The one who was kind to everyone because that was just the kind of person he was. 

To you though, he was the man who you dreamt of. The man who laid on a dying bed as your blood poured into his mouth to keep him alive. It wasn’t your memory–far from it. It was the memory of a witch who was losing her true love to some injury. The one who created the spell that would change the course of history for magic. 

But it was all in your head. Something you could never explain to others because they wouldn’t understand. Like how Wooyoung had made fun of you for thinking of Seonghwa in any way other than he was a nice guy. You knew others might not make fun of you, but it was something that you wanted to keep to yourself because it was special.  

“I see.” Seonghwa nodded his head.  

He looked at you, for a moment, eyes glancing over your face as he tried to deduce something. “Is it alright if I can ask you what creature you are?” He asked you.

You opened your mouth just a bit as your breath got caught in your throat. You smiled bashfully, looking down. “Of course.” You nodded, answering him.  

“I am a witch.” You explained. “My family owns the shop.”

He paused again, seemingly looking more confused as he scooted closer to the counter. “I’m sorry, have we met before?” He asked you.

Your eyebrows rose, as you took in his looks, seemingly sighing dreamily as you watched him. Your fingers began to tingle, causing you to flex them to relive the feelings. You could feel your blood rushing through your heart, and warming your body.

“I believe, so when we were children.” You answered. 

Seonghwa watched you, feeling his blood warm up as you looked at him. He could feel himself start to fall asleep from how everything seemed to make him feel. He could remember the one time he had last ever felt that way. The time a young woman had come to help him fix his scraped knee. 

He remembered it now, the time when someone had helped him and it made him feel like a little child who stood in front of a candle. And now, standing in front of you again, he felt that same feeling. The wick that was lit up, the heat that radiated from the small flame, the wax that would melt and he would dip his fingers into it. 

Not a day went by that he wouldn’t think about it. Think about the girl who had helped heal him with her magic. About the story his mother would tell him. The story of how vampires came to be. How they were the creatures who were created out of love. 

“Yes.” Seonghwa said, nodding to himself. “I remember now. You treated my knee scrape when I fell from the wall of the palace.” He began to smile bashfully. “Embarrassing for me really. Having a pretty girl clean my wound.”

“I'm sure someone else would have done the same.” You blushed. 

“Yes but none of them would have been a witch.” Seonghwa smiled at you.

You smiled softly at him, understanding that what you were feeling was not only yours. You didn’t know how far it was that he understood your connection–you didn’t even fully know if he truly did. But something about him knowing now that you were a witch made things change. 

There was so much you wanted to ask him. So much you wanted to speak about with him but you knew there were things he needed to get done. The night was young and Seonghwa must have important matters to attend to if he only came down from the estate this late at night. 

“I guess not.” You spoke softly. 

“I guess I'll come by another day then.” He whispered to you, not tearing his eyes away. 

You smiled at him nodding your head. Before he got the chance to turn around and walk away you called out to him. “If you need help with anything, please don't be afraid to ask me.” You told him.

He gave you a dazzling smile, lips pulling over his teeth. “Of course, little witch.”

You felt your heart stop for just a split second. The endearing nickname felt like a stab to your chest. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made your blood warm up even more. A blush overtook your cheeks. But still you gave him a nod and a wave of your hand. You watched as he left with a small smile on his lips. 

**

You didn’t know how long it was that you saw him again. But it was a sad day for the village. You read over the article with the news about the death of the Park family. At least the parents. 

You hadn’t seen Seonghwa since he last came in looking for your parents. It made you sad, not knowing what he must have been going through. It was even worse when you didn’t know how to fix things. 

“They said it was a hunter.” Wooyoung spoke, looking over the paper. “Now with both of them gone it only leaves Seonghwa in charge of the estate. I wonder why they didn't just take blood.” The boy sighed. 

“Wooyoung, not everything is like a story book.” You told him, not looking at him. 

You didn’t know how to tell him. How to explain what it was you felt for Seonghwa. Honestly, you didn’t even fully understand it yet. It was every witches dream to find the person they were destined for, but you knew there were a select few who were able to. 

Twin flames were hard to come by, only one in every century. To get this kind of chance was something no one wanted to just pass by. But for you, it was hard. Times were changing for the worse. At least for the creatures who roamed the earth. And yet you still wanted to deny it.

“They are not creatures who guzzle blood like it's their dinner.” You defended. 

“But somehow they were the reason this war against creatures started.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“You can't blame them for everything.” You looked up at him, eyebrows pulled together. “Only the greedy ones deserve death.” You added.

“(Y/N), get out of your head.” Wooyoung exclaimed. “Vampires are the reason hunters came to be. The reason all the creatures turned against each other and started to go into hiding. The reason we can't practice our magic anymore!” He was breathing hard, trying his best to keep from crying.

You sucked in breath, wanting to calm your racing heart. “Don't make a fool of yourself, Wooyoung. We still practice it.” You denied him. 

“Really?” He asked. “Then what was the last spell your parents taught you?”

It was a healing spell. Back when you were a little girl. They never really taught you anything outside of the everyday needs. Healing, protections, warding, divination–all the things anyone needed in their lives. Wooyoung was right, though. They never taught you the big kinds of spells. The ones that connected you to the other worldly beings or fixed a mistake in your life that ended up in major failure. 

You were just the girl who worked in the shop and made simple spells and read simple futures with cards. You couldn’t save a person’s life from the brink of death. Couldn’t make a mother find what she needed in order to have a child. Didn’t know how to help a child who couldn’t hear or see. Those were the spells your parents knew because their own families had taught them. 

Wooyoung took your silence as an answer. His lips trembled as he became angry with how you were denying the truth. How you didn’t want to come to terms that the world was not happy with the magic users that were meant to care for it. 

“They stopped because they know everyone is reversing their abilities.” Wooyoung sniffled. “Even the Park's! They came to my family to take away their powers—”

“Am I interrupting?” Someone asked. 

Both you and the faerie boy turned, coming face to face with Seonghwa. You pressed your lips together, feeling your blood warm up from standing so close to him. 

“Not at all.” You spoke up. “Wooyoung was just leaving.” 

You watched the boy give you a look, disappointed in what you decided to choose. Your shoulders dropped at the way he looked at you. It hurt to watch him walk away from you in a haste to get away.

No matter what, Wooyoung was always going to be your person. Even if you kind were the ones who created vampires out of love, the universe was the one who created faeries and witches from the same soul. No creature was going to get in the way of that. 

You turned back to Seonghwa, feeling your chest burn from both hurt and familiarity. You walked around the counter, stepping to stand in front of him. “I'm sorry about your mother.” You told him.

“I am too.” He gave you a soft smile. “Little witch, do you treasure who you are?” He asked you.

Your lips opened and closed for a moment before you looked down to avoid his gaze. You felt your heart ache thinking about how he must have overheard Wooyoung telling you about the Park’s going to his family to take away their vampiric abilities. His question did catch you off guard. But the moment you understood his words, you knew what it was you wanted to say. 

People grew up to be the person they were meant to be for a reason. Being a human, witch, faerie, vampire–whatever–was what made them just that. You couldn’t go on without knowing who it was you were or wanted to be. Being a witch was a part of you just as being a vampire was for Seonghwa. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to give up a part of you. Especially because you knew it was the reason you were at risk of being killed at the hands of others who didn’t understand the kind of person you were. 

“More than anything in the world.” You answered him. “It's what makes me the person I am.”

“And if you had to give it up?” Seonghwa’s lips trembled, his breath turning shallow as he grew closer to you. “To let others know that you mean them no harm?”

You were never going to be able to know how Wooyoung dealt with his struggles. How Seonghwa dealt with his or how other creatures did. But you knew that being a witch was part of you and losing that would be one of the most painful experiences you could ever know. 

“I wouldn't know what to do with myself.” You whispered. “That would be taking away a part of me–a part of my soul.”

Seonghwa sucked in a breath hearing your words. You felt his hands brush against your own, your breath hitching as you suddenly saw a vision pass behind your eyes. It was like those dreams you had. You saw those bloody hands clasped together–watched as two candles flickered together in sync with one another. And like always, the moonlight shined down on those two lovers huddled together. 

When the images passed you found yourself staring right into Seonghwa’s eyes. You were close enough to watch as his pupils grew as they watched you. You could almost feel his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“And if your soul was connected to someone else's?” He whispered. 

“Wouldn't that make them my soulmate?” You questioned back.

“No, not your soulmate.” Seonghwa shook his head. “That would mean that person was your other half.” He explained, his hand finally taking yours in his. “The half that was torn from you.”

His fingers pried yours open, closing around your palm as he clasped your hand. Your eyes fluttered for a moment as you glanced down at his lips, but you quickly looked up the moment he stepped closer, chest brushing against yours.  

“I mean in a way that your soul mirrors another.”

Twin flames were what they called witches and vampires. They were called that because when a witch created the first ever vampire, the way they had cured their lover was by connecting their souls together. They prayed to the moon and called upon its magic to save the one thing that they had loved more than even their own life. 

And when the moon answered, the witch lit two candles that were the bridge between their lover’s dying soul and their living one. When they fed their lover blood, it was meant to be the essence of life bringing them back from the river that would take them to the underworld. In doing so, the witches' life became one with their lover. This created their souls to be connected to one another. 

“Then we'd walk side by side.” You swallowed. “Magic or not, our souls will always be the same.” You told him. 

You watched how his Adam's apple moved, his throat feeling like it was closing in as he took in your words. His lip trembled, breathing turning harsh as he tried to keep from having tears fall. 

“Are you alright, Seonghwa?” You asked, growing worried as you took in his state. 

“I just wanted to check on something.” He whispered so quietly. “I had to make sure I wasn't wrong.”

Your lips slowly turned downward as you realized what he was talking about. The moment Seonghwa saw your facial expression take a turn, he leaned closer, forehead touching yours as he was a breath away from touching your lips.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” You asked, lips brushing against his.

“More than I could ever ask for.” He then pressed his lips against yours. 

Your breath got caught in your throat once more, body leaning back as he fully pushed himself into you. You didn’t waste time to kiss him back with as much vigor. You could feel something within you swell. You could feel Seonghwa’s heartbeat against his chest. Tears pooled in your eyes as you knew it was beating in sync with yours. 

You felt his tears falling down his cheek, touching your own and causing them to get wet. But you didn’t care. All that filled your head was the way his lips felt touching yours–the way his body reacted with your own. Everything was moving together, like it was one person who was in charge. 

Everything felt right. Like you were meant to be in that moment with him. And the moon–you could feel it on your skin. You could feel it seeping through the windows and onto the both of you. It was watching you–knowing what it had been doing when it brought you together. 

You began to feel Seonghwa move the tip of his tongue onto your lips. When you opened your mouth just a bit more, you felt his teeth scrape your bottom lip. You didn’t know what had gone wrong, but suddenly you felt a nick on your skin, causing you to pull back quickly with a gasp.

You licked at your lip, feeling liquid touch your tongue. You furrowed your eyebrows when you felt that it didn’t hurt. In fact, you could even feel the sting when Seonghwa had caused the wound. The only reason you had was because you felt him bite you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He pulled back, licking off the blood that had been left on his lips.

“It’s alright.” You shook your head, trying to wipe away the dribbles. “Nothing I can’t fix.” You smiled at him.

Seonghwa stepped forward again, moving a hand to your cheek as his thumb brushed to wipe away the blood. He leaned down again, giving you one last chaste kiss to avoid hurting you further. 

“Forgive me, my little witch.” He whispered to you.

And then he was gone.

**

You watched, along with the rest of the village, as people tried to clean up the bodies of humans who were torn apart and left in the town square to rot. Many tried to shield their eyes, keep children from looking at the disfigured humans. 

They were hunters. Everyone could tell from the weapons that laid at their sides. Weapons that could easily kill anyone if you used them right. But you knew they were used against creatures. Creatures who had turned themselves humans but still were ultimately killed.

Wooyoung was at your side, making faces and gagging as the morticians tried to clean up the severed body parts. There were only certain things that had the strength to do that to the body. And as far as you knew, they had reversed their ability days before the death of his parents.

“I thought you said the Park’s came to reverse their powers.” You mumbled emotionless.

“Not Seonghwa.” Wooyoung answered you.

He turned to look at you, seeing how your face remained emotionless. “Still don't want to believe me?” He asked. 

There was only so much pain someone could take before reaching the breaking point. Finding out that the one person who was meant to be a mirrored soul to your own after being told that you were no longer going to be the person you were meant to be was heart wrenching. Watching as your family lost something that belonged to not only their mind but their soul as you chose not to go through with it. Then you truly find the person who was meant to be your one true love.

Only to remember that one day they too were going to have to give up what they were. Even worse for someone who was a witch. To have to grow old as they lost their connection with the moon. That was far worse than losing some silly ability to drink blood. 

It only led them to want to fight for what was meant to be right. But was it in the end if power only caused war against one another? Maybe giving up those kinds of things was for the best. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t going to be people who fought for their life.

“Not at all.”

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst, @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @angieskzzzz , @puppyminnnie , @smilingtokki , @emtrades22 , @tinyelfperson , @0rangemilk , @jaerisdiction , @wooyoungqueen

[prk-gunwook]

BOYS PLANET — how they love you

INCLUDES || sung hanbin | zhang hao | kim jiwoong | park gunwook | seok matthew | kim taerae | kum junhyeon | ricky

GENRE || tooth-rotting fluff

WORD COUNT || 2.1k

NOTES || this is my first post on tumblr ! had to create an account just for these boys i adore. requests are open, and please leave me feedback ! <3

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, SUNG HANBIN 𖥻 ❛ touch ❜

SUNG HANBIN touches you like you are his lifeline; like golden ichor flows through your veins and bubbly springs overflow in your mouth, as if your skin is made of fibers woven by Athena herself. His touches are feather-soft, lingering sweetly on your flesh and body, leaving fingerprints of moon dust. He wraps his hands around your torso under the cover of the sun, pressing sugary kisses to your temples early in the morning through silk curtains, whispered promises of love and devotion leaving his lips to caress your ears.

Hanbin laces your fingers together more often than not; soft hands tracing the lines of your palm as if he could read the future you two will build together there. Whether it’s a hand on your thigh, a finger wrapping around your pinky, or a head on your shoulder, he craves your touch like a starved man.

As you lay in bed, head resting softly on his chest, you peer up at him.

“Can you breathe fine like this?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing inward slightly in concern. Hanbin laughs— a short, sweet thing that rings like wedding bells in your mind— and nods.

He gazes down at you, eyes staring at you as if you hold the world in the palms of your hands, and you feel the cold touch of his fingers brushing circles against your hip.

“There is no other way I could wish to breathe,” He replies, words soft and laced with the admiration he feels for you.

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, ZHANG HAO 𖥻 ❛ fruits ❜

ZHANG HAO loves you dearly— his love runs deeper than the ocean, glittering water that shimmers and shines with every action and word you perform. You know it, he knows it, and there is nothing else either of you need. He loves you like the sun loves the moon, like the waves love the shore, like Prometheus loves his creations. He loves you like there is no other option; and for him, there isn’t.

Often, you find yourself staying up late to finish the schoolwork you neglect until the last minute, pencil in your mouth and eyes narrowed in thought. Problems and their solutions swim in your mind, crossing over into the other and leaving you more and more confused.

“You need to sleep,” Hao’s stern voice comes from the doorway, arms crossed in discontent as he watches you study.

“I need to finish this,” You argue, even as your eyes beg for sleep and your knees ache from sitting down for hours. You can hear Hao move across the room, floorboards creaking softly underfoot as he makes his way toward you.

“At least eat something,” He says, placing a bowl of crisp apple slices in front of you. You pick one up, noticing how the skin has been cut in a specific way to resemble a bunny. Before you can thank him he’s gone, out the doorway— probably to sleep.

The next day, as you sit down to study, you notice a bowl of freshly-cut bunny apples waiting for you, and a small sticky-note with the words “try and sleep early tonight”.

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, KIM JIWOONG 𖥻 ❛ long drives ❜

KIM JIWOONG was always extremely stubborn when it came to road safety— not that it was a bad thing, you could appreciate it, really. Eyes on the road, two hands on the steering wheel, music never too loud, and seatbelts are buckled before the car moves even a millimeter. But ever since meeting you, he’s taken to driving one-handed, always leaving one hand open for you to hold.

Inside his car, there is only you and him. There is only Jiwoong’s devotion to you. There is only starlight and sublime tears, moonlit kisses and beating hearts that mold into one, only his hand in yours.

No words need to be exchanged as wheels turn steadily on pavement roads, soft chirps of grasshoppers and croaks of frogs filling the empty spaces. There are no words that need to be exchanged when they’ve all already been said; “I love you” loses its meaning after a while, and now your love is found in the feeling of his hands on yours, of your eyes interlocking gazes in the rearview mirror, of hidden smiles and inside jokes. Now, your love is found in the lack of words needed when Jiwoong grabs his keys from the wall and only has to look at you to ask if you want to go on a drive with him.

No words are needed when you love as strongly as you do.

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, PARK GUNWOOK 𖥻 ❛ this reminded me of you ❜

PARK GUNWOOK thinks that, if there are a million universes, he loves you in every single one. He has bared his heart for you to take like a oyster with its pearl— he would rip apart his heart and sew it back together in the shape of you, for you are in the only thing in it. He sees his entire world in you, and in the world he sees you.

He sees you in the lipstick mark of an abandoned coffee cup, he sees you in the sketchy lines of a street mural, he sees you in blossoming bouquets of spring and bicycles parked on the beach. When Gunwook enters a shop, every item relates back to you; how would you like this shirt on him? Would this look cute on you? Is this your style of decor?

He doesn’t mean to buy you so many things, really, it just happens. As you dance in your living room with him, choked laughter ringing in the air, a collection of miscellaneous items decorate your walls and shelves.

A penguin sculpture for the way you purse your lips in thought. A magazine cut-out of an ad for the same picnic blanket you had your first date on. A collection of pink stickers scattered along the walls for the color of your shirt the day he asked you out.

This room is a log of your m emories; of the love you share, of the tears and the smiles, of all the good and the bad and the in-between. It’s a dictionary of every moment the two of you have shared, fluent in the language of love. And yet there are so many empty spaces, empty pages, for the next moments to come, and you doubt this book will ever close.

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, SEOK MATTHEW 𖥻 ❛ admiration in his eyes ❜

SEOK MATTHEW is like the sun. Bright, happy, a shining, glimmering light that can cast even the most gloomy of days away. His smile is like the medicine to a sickness you never knew you had, his eyes crescent rainbows that reflect every good feeling you can have, his laugh like the ripples of a fresh river swirling around your legs in summer. Seok Matthew is the sun in every meaning of the word.

And you are his moon. He would chase you to the ends of the Earth for eternity just for a glimpse of your smile, just a word from your lips, just a small glance at your eyes, and he would do it for longer than the term “forever” can communicate. He will follow wherever you go, no matter if it’s down to a fiery pit of justice or up to a symphony of angels chorusing for you.

When you speak, Matthew’s eyes are fully on you. Never will it stray (and he has suffered being the butt of many, many jokes because of this), but he can’t help it. Why would he ever want to look away from you, if you are all he ever wants to look at? Stars in his eyes, but you are his one moon.

He hardly ever dreams when he sleeps, for every moment with you is enough to last him through his years without a wink of slumber. He would never have to rest his head if only he can hear you laugh everyday— when you smile, he smiles, and it lights up the world.

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, KIM TAERAE 𖥻 ❛ love songs ❜

KIM TAERAE wonders how anybody enjoyed listening to him sing before he met you, for he never knew true love before. Never has he been able to sing fully with the implication of knowing, never has he embarked on the journey of admiration the songs describe, and never has he known this warm, bubbly feeling called love. Now, every word is charged with the meaning of you; the love he holds for you, the smiles he hides for you, the guitar strings he strums for you, the songs he sings just for you.

His Spotify playlists have become perhaps seven times longer than before, filled to the brim with soft songs that he dedicates entirely to your being.

“Your lips, my lips,” Taerae sang, voice sweet but gravelly, the melody tuned to the sound of beating hearts and hushed kisses. You sit next to him, watching his lips move in a fixed fascination as his deft fingers strum the strings of his guitar like an expert. He plays the strings of your heart the same way; with a practiced ease, like it was what he was born to do.

“Go and sneak us through rivers,” He continues, eyes focused not on his guitar but on you. Taerae thanks every soul that has ever lived on Earth before this, and every soul after, that you were born in such a time and place that he could meet you and fall in love. “Flood is rising up on your knees.”

“Oh please, come out and haunt me.”

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, KUM JUNHYEON 𖥻 ❛ bad movies ❜

KUM JUNHYEON has always been a warm person; he is made of fiery spirits and nipping branches, of autumn leaves tumbling to the ground in piles, ready to be jumped in. He’s made of loud words and screaming laughs, of bad aeygo and joking whispers, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He is entirely odd, and he’s entirely yours.

So it makes sense he shows his love for you through bad movies. You have never laughed as much as you have when you sit with him on a worn-down couch, bowls of popcorn in your hands, tall cups of soda ready to be drunk on your table. Never have you laughed so hard you snorted except for when Junhyeon made you watch The Emoji Movie with him and interrupted every other sentence to make a joke— and even after that, Junhyeon couldn’t get a joke out because he was laughing too hard at the fact you snorted.

Laughter is uncontrollable when you’re around Junhyeon— when you cuddle up next to him, and even when your eyes are begging for sleep, you can’t stop laughing. When you’re sure you’ve got abs from the hours of jokes, when you’re certain you’ll have laugh lines deeper than the grand canyon after how many years you’ve spent with Junhyeon.

It’s odd, yes, but it’s so entirely Junhyeon.

ꉂ — 𖥦 ♡ ,, RICKY 𖥻 ❛ gifts ❜

RICKY is young, rich, tall, and handsome, there is no denying that. One thing they never revealed is the fact he’s perceptive— frighteningly so. If you even mention liking something in passing, rest assured there will be a basket of it in your kitchen the next day. If you spend even a fraction of a second too long looking at a piece of jewelry, best believe it’s draped around your neck the next day.

It’s not that he enjoys flaunting his wealth. It’s just… what else should he use it for, if not the one he loves the most? He would buy a thousand gems of the rarest ore just for a single second of your happiness. He would sell his fortune for the feel of his hand in yours— he’d even give up hairspray just to kiss your lips once.

Ricky thinks and feels so much all the time, his heart is bruised and bleeding, but you have become a doctor just to repair him. He loves you in the way nobody can understand; and he does not need understanding when he has admiration. He thinks there is a chapel within his heart entirely dedicated to you; that if he is reincarnated, it will be as a passing breeze that thinks only of you.

“I love you,” He says more often than he thought he ever would.

“I love you, too.” He hears back more often than he thought possible.

—

[macbethsymphony]

Cherry Girl | Chapter 2

Eustass Kid x Reader

Chapters: [1] [3]

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, eventual smut, slow burn-ish

Chapter wc: 2.1k

Summary: Eustass ‘captain’ Kid was in a shit mood. He was pent-up, irritated and you… you and your pink mini denim skirt wasn’t helping. OR You and Kid obviously pine for each other but you're both idiots.

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Wanna read it all? it's completed over there

Chapter 2: The Nickname

It was around noon the next day when the lookout shouted he’d seen land. Kid had emerged from his workshop in a frenzy as soon as the words had floated down from the mast.

“Fucking finally,” he had screamed, a manic grin adorning his lips. 

Your heart had skipped a beat at the sight of his majestic self, laughing in the glowing sun.

The anticipation and joy from the whole crew was intoxicating. An excited smile graced your features at the thought of the first place you’d ever see beyond your island. As the shoreline grew nearer, everyone got busier and busier. You yourself had been slightly overwhelmed as you made the inventory of the food stock, discussing with Killer the amount of supplies you’d have to buy and what you were missing from the infirmary.

Saying you were nervous as you put your foot down on the wooden dock of this new island was the understatement of the century. The ground seemed to shift beneath you, sending you stumbling right into your captain’s back. 

“Having a hard time on land, kitten?” his arm snaked around you almost protectively. “The sea’s gonna do that to you,” he chuckled as his touch roamed to your hair, ruffling it ever so gently before heading towards the bustling streets of the town. “Try not to fall over, kitten.”

You felt Quincy’s hand on your shoulder. “Oh you’re down bad for him, aren’t you? Girly pop?”  she observed. 

You sensed the heat rise to your cheeks at her words. 

“Don’t worry, everyone gets over it eventually. Find yourself a good fuck or something,” her wild laugh hit your ears slightly too strong. “I know I will!”

The bustling streets of the town enveloped you in a whirlwind of sights and sounds. The evening air was thick with humidity and the scent of spices foreign to you was intoxicating. Your captain strode ahead, his presence scaring everyone away from his path. He navigated the crowd skillfully, eyeing shops in a desperate search of something. Your eyes wandered over the different stalls, all your senses feeling overwhelmed. Quincy laughed at whatever Wire had just said to her. She moved to your side, her arm draping on your shoulders, making sure you didn’t get lost in the bustling currents of people.

A booming ‘yes’ came from Kid as he stopped before a building. The loud sound brought your attention back towards the crew. 

“Drinks on me tonight!” Your captain shouted as he opened the door. 

Everyone around you yelled in excitement, an echo to the red-head’s enthusiasm. You couldn’t help the smile that plastered your lips in that moment.

The tavern was alive with the energy of the night, music and laughter drowning out conversations. The Kid Pirates had already crowded over a corner of the establishment, their raucous voices mingling with the clinking of tankards and the strumming of a nearby lute.

Captain Kid was the center of attention, his magnetic presence drawing all eyes to him. Two extremely beautiful girls had quickly taken place next to him as he regaled them with tales of his adventures. You wished for a moment that it could be you sitting there on his lap as he gave you all the attention of the world. But you knew he didn’t see you in such a way. 

He looked like a painting with those stunning women, they fit his intensity and boldness perfectly. It hadn't taken long for his flesh arm to snake around one of the girls’ waist, tightly pinning her down to his chest as she unabashedly kissed his jaw and whispered you didn’t know what in his ear. His smile was cocky and the glint in his eyes made your heart throb.

In the periphery of your vision, you saw Heat swing to the sound of the music with a pretty girl. Her laughter rang out like a bell above the tune as she spun and twirled with reckless abandon. Dive was already dancing on a table, a crowd slowly gathering around her. Your gaze searched for somewhere a little less chaotic to sit down and relax. You spotted Killer on a stool in the back.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, making your way over to him.

He gestured to the empty seat next to him. Whatever answer lost in the din of the tavern. 

You settled yourself next to him in silence. You were used to his quiet nature, it felt comfortable to you. 

“I guess I’m not really one for this,” you said, laughing softly. “It feels overwhelming to me.”

Killer’s head turned toward you. You wondered what his face looked like under that mask. Did he mind your rambling? You supposed he’d tell you if he did. It’s not like he endured anything he didn’t feel like enduring. A smile made its way to your lips, this wasn’t so bad.

“Oi, you fucking losers!” Kid shouted as he made his way over to the both of you. “I’m heading back to the ship,” he threw a bag of gold towards Killer. 

One of the girls he’d had on his knees, glared you up and down as she settled her hand on his chest, the other was hugging your captain’s arm ignoring all else as she felt up his muscles. You noticed how Kid flexed ever so subtly. He was showing off. It made you smile. 

“This should do it for the night! Have some fun Killer, unwind a bit would ya,” his grin was manic.

Killer caught the bag of gold with ease, his expression unreadable behind his mask. “Have fun, Kid,” he replied simply, his voice calm and composed in the chaos around him.

Kid flashed Killer a cocky smile before turning back towards the door, the girls in tow. “You too, Kitten! Loosen the fuck up for once will ya,” he threw the words at you over his shoulder with a hearty laugh. 

You felt your ears heat up.

“Damn fucking right captain!” Quincy shouted as she marched over to where you were seated. “Ain’t no fucking way these two idiots are gonna escape me tonight. Let’s have some fun!” she howled.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, you groaned and tried to bury your head under your pillow. Your head pounded, threatening to split your skull in two. 

This wasn’t going to do. 

With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly forced yourself to sit up, your vision spinning as you fought the urge to throw up. You looked around, eyes squinting against the light. Quincy and Dive were still asleep, snoring loudly in their respective cots. 

Water.

You needed water. 

You made your way out of the shared women’s quarter. Nearly falling down as the full power of the sun hit your eyes. You almost retched. With a hand trying to hide the blinding light off your face, you beelined to the kitchen. The faster you got there the better.

You poured yourself a tall glass of water and downed it immediately. You wished the effects of your abuse of the night before would pass quicker. The night before… you didn’t usually drink this much. You knew you were a lightweight. You hadn’t blundered this bad since your teenage years. You rubbed your temples as you tried to remember. 

Ah, right. 

You cringed as memories started filling your mind.

“Alright, lads and lasses. Who’s up for a gold ol’ fucking game of truth or dare?” Quincy had shouted the moment Kid had disappeared through the door of the tavern. You’d tried to escape but she’d snaked her arm around your shoulders in a deadly grip.

“Come on you pussies,” Heat had added. A wicked grin on his face, he’d laced his own arm around Killer, keeping him in place. “We have a new girl on our crew,” they all cheered, you blanched.

You groaned at the memories.

Quincy’s smile had widened as she’d asked, “Truth or dare, girly pop?”

You’d weighted your options. “Truth,” you’d answered unsure.

Her expression had looked downright evil at your choice. “Tell us,” she had started. “What’s the lewdest fantasy you’ve ever had about our captain.”

“You traitor!” You had shouted as soon as the words had left her lips, your face a bright red. 

Wire and Dive had howled.

“You can always drink,” Quincy had offered in a sing-song tone as she’d poured you a glass of amber liquid right to the rim. “But you’ll have to down that. The steamier the question the more you’ll have to drink.”

You’d downed the contents without hesitation.

Fuck. You poured yourself another glass of water. They’d never let you live it down. You tried to remember the rest of the night.

Killer had recounted something about a mermaid and a misplaced bottle of rum when he’d chosen truth. Wire and Heat had added to the story making everyone laugh.

You’d started feeling drunk around that time. Dive had had you at a dare and you were now sitting on Heat’s knees, his large hand settled on your thigh as you comfortably reclined against his chest. The crew had been out on a hunt to get every bit of information out of you.

“Truth or dare?” Dive had asked you, gaze intense.

You’d hesitated. “Truth,” you’d chosen.

“You know (y/n), to me,” she’d dragged on the question, her speech beginning to sound slurry with intoxication. “To me you really seem like a virgin, so,” her smile had been playful on her cute face. “So if you’re not, recount to us the best fuck you’ve ever had,” she’d stared at you expectantly, looking proud of herself for that question.

Your mouth had hung open, your mind struggling to catch up to the words that had been about to spill out of your lips. “I’m not a virgin,” you’d answered before thinking. “But if I’m honest,” you had taken your time trying to remember of the last adventure you’d had, you’d let out a tiny intoxicated hiccup at the memory. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a good lay,” you’d admitted with a small laugh to yourself, feeling bashful. “Hell” you’d added. “I’ve never even had someone go down on me.”

Quincy had gasped at your confession. A glint of mischief had crossed her eyes as she’d said playfully. “You know, if you lean that way, I can give you a good time and change that.”

Heat had laughed behind you. The hand he’d had on your thigh digging into soft flesh as he whispered in your ear. “And if you don’t, I can do the same for you. Cherry girl.”

Your face had gone red at the offers. “I’m no cherry girl”, you’d protested your voice indignant. Both Quincy and Heat had doubled over, laughing hard at your prudishness.

Cherry Girl. That’s right, you’d earned a new nickname. You hoped no one remembered. You groaned. As if that’d ever happen.

As if on cue, Heat and Wire banged the door to the kitchen open. They looked almost as worse for wear as you did.

“Mornin’ cherry girl,” they muttered in unison, grabbing the water pitcher you had in front of you and pouring themselves a glass.

You dropped down to the floor in embarrassment. “Don’t call me that,” you begged, your voice groggy.

Heat and Wire exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter. “Aw, come on, cherry girl, it’s all in good fun!” Wire teased, chuckles echoing off the walls of the kitchen.

You buried your face in your hands, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole. “Can we all please just forget last night?” You pleaded, your voice muffled by your palms.

But Wire and Heat showed no signs of relenting. Gig opened the door next and issued a grumbled ‘mornin’ cherry girl too’. You groaned in despair, their laughter only grew louder. 

“Sorry, cherry girl,” Heat said between chuckles. “But I don’t think the crew’s gonna be forgetting anything about last night anytime soon.”

You sat on the floor, wallowing in your humiliation, the weight of embarrassment feeling heavy on your shoulders. “The fuck are you all even doing up so early anyways,” you asked, tone laced with irritation. “Y’all are never up early.”

“Captain’s loud,” Gig answered. “Can’t sleep.”

“Huh?” you grunted confused.

“Those girls are giving him competition too,” Heat said next, a scowl on his face at the thought.

“At this point they’re really just showing off,” Wire added.

With their laughter down. You could faintly hear the moans of a girl coming from the captain’s quarters. “Oh!” your cheeks heated up in realization. “Hadn’t noticed,” you grumbled.

They all laughed. “Cherry girl really suits you, heh,” Heat observed with a grin.

← Previous chapter | Next chapter →

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “soon, i will make you my wife,” he promises softly, holding her hands to his chest, and y/n looks up at him with eyes that reflect a million stars as she smiles.

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: avatar ( 2009/2022 ) | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tonowari/fem!reader, background ronal/tonowari, past neteyam/fem!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 4.19k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, soft dom tonowari, mentioned past bottom tonowari, romance-oriented, reader is besties w neteyam ( they’ve had some sexytimes tho so besties w benefits real ), bi neteyam supremacy, bi reader too bitch, cockwarming, previously established relationship, secret to not-so-secret relationship, reader and neteyam are twenty, canon divergent world building ( metkayina olo’eyktans commonly have multiple wives, etc ), jealousy.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

“fuck, i’ve wanted you all day.”

tonowari’s voice, low and thick with arousal, is muffled as he mouths along the line of y/n’s collarbone, a breathy smile quirking up her lips as she reaches up to cup the back of his head, cradling it as he laves her skin with attention. 

“i could tell,” she murmurs, tipping her head back ever so slightly to give him more places to kiss. 

“yeah? ‘s that why you were all over that damn boy?” he grumbles against her flesh, and she laughs softly and relaxes further in his hold as he shifts a little, his length buried oh-so-sweetly inside shifting with him. the fullness that came with it only further calmed her; goddess above, she wished this would never end. 

“you’re always so jealous of neteyam, aren’t you?” she asks quietly, taking a lock of his hair in hand and beginning to quickly braid it as she’d done time and time again with her best friend and his younger siblings and parents. the act cemented bonds and love between na’vi in omaticayan culture, and tonowari only tipping his head closer so she wouldn’t have to stretch as much made her smile. 

tonowari growls out a low, “he’s laid with you many times before — you’ve said so yourself,” and y/n scoffs and lets go of the half started braid to hold it in one hand as the other rubs at his cheek fondly. 

“and you’ve fucked ronal enough to sire two children with a third on the way,” she  retorts, then hums thoughtfully as she begins braiding with his hair again. “although i can’t really fault you for it; if i was married to ronal and had the means, we would have a handful of children as well.” this makes him smile.  

“it makes me happy that you are still attracted to my wife despite the way she’s treated you this far,” he murmurs, nuzzling against her as his former  jealousy is left forgotten. 

“she is your first wife, jealousy is to be expected,” y/n muses, then chuckles. “and hopefully i can find ways to… appease the disliking she has for me.”

tonowari’s eyes twinkle. “i don’t doubt you’ll manage to get your way,” he says honestly, and y/n chuckles quietly before letting the untied braid disappear into the rest of his curls as she settles against his chest. they sit together like this for a while, resting as one beneath a high blanket of stars and moons granted to them by the great mother. y/n hums softly, taking one of tonowari’s large hands into both of her own, and he gazes down at her fondly as she toys with his fingers. 

“i’ll have to return soon, you know,” she finally says, breaking the comfortable silence, and tonowari sighs. 

“must you? surely i could just tug you along to my marui.”

y/n laughs. “no. neteyam waits for me at the shores, practicing for the dives he is to go on — just as ronal waits for you within the marui you so lazily just mentioned.”

tonowari  sighs, but nods in agreement. “yes, you’re right,” he mumbles quietly, nuzzling against her gently before carefully helping the two of them part and begin to make themselves decent again. 

as y/n finishes tying the top that she’d made a fortnight prior, tonowari takes her hands in his own. “soon, i will make you my wife,” he promises softly, holding her hands to his chest, and y/n looks up at him with eyes that reflect a million stars as she smiles. 

“keep this promise, and i will bear you half a dozen sons,” she sighs, and he laughs. 

“i need no more children as long as i have you,” he replies, a warm look in his eye as he reaches a hand up to cup her cheek. “tomorrow night, you and i will bond for life — if you will have me.”

y/n gazes up at him, pleased, and nods once, then the two go their separate ways. 

“hey, uh, y/n — where were you and neteyam last night?”

the sudden question, sprung on her by her best friend’s younger brother lo’ak, had the elder na’vi woman tensing. neteyam cuts his eyes at her from the side, his tail swishing over to rest on top of hers for a slight second before moving back, and she chuckles a little before returning to cutting up the fruit she was handing out, giving the first piece ( completely rid of the bitter peel ) to a whining, oblivious tuk, who accepts it excitedly. 

“why were you awake so late, lo’ak?” she retorts good naturedly, neteyam smiling softly in amusement by her side as he also resumes his work on descaling one of the fish he’d caught that morning when meeting up with y/n on her return from her escapade. he’d been practicing his breathing techniques all night — and unlike his brother, he knew exactly what y/n had been doing. she’d never been too shy about sharing — not with him. 

“i asked you first,” lo’ak replies, and y/n raises an eyebrow. 

“i asked you second. plus i’m older than you,” she says simply, pulling a full grin from her best friend as he cast the scales in his hand onto a large leaf he had resting to the side of him that y/n wasn't occupying ( as usual ).

lo’ak pouts playfully, a smile he was fighting off making the corners of his mouth twitch. he clearly wants to keep asking about it, nosy as ever, and kiri is also about to say something as y/n hands her her own large cut of fruit, but they both drop the subject when jake exits the marui not too far away with neytiri following closely. none of them wanted to see how they’d blow the adult na’vi slipping out of their new home in the middle of the night out of proportion. 

“morning, kids!” jake greets warmly, tail swishing happily behind him, and neytiri echoes the sentiment while kissing the top of tuk’s head. neteyam and y/n share a look, unable to understand how both his father and his mother were always so damn cheery in the mornings when they always felt like death; their own mornings typically included hisses and growls shot between the two of them directed at one another, with the occasional nip or full-on bite being shared. 

jake and neytiri take their places in the messy circle made up by the little group, leaning against one another fondly. jake graciously accepts the fruit offered by y/n once kiri and lo’ak get their own large hunks of the fruit, tipping his head in appreciation and thanks as he gently takes it from her and begins to eat, neytiri being offered the next piece. soft conversation starts as everyone eats what they’ve been given and y/n cuts neteyam his own piece, holding it up to him while continuing to cut one handed so he can also eat while he continues preparing fish. he takes a bite, bumping his nose against her knuckles in thanks as he chews, and the two loop their tails together fondly as they return to work. neytiri and jake share a look between themselves, both smiling at the sight. they were so, so sure that they’d find the two had disappeared and then returned mated sometime soon — and they were so excited for it! y/n had been a constant fixture in their lives for so long now, having been best friends with neteyam since the two were still learning to crawl. she’d melded perfectly with their family over the last twenty years, she and neteyam were thick as thieves, and neytiri had been so excited to see what she would do as tsahik before they’d had to flee. now she would not be tsahik, just as neteyam would not be olo’eyktan, but they were still more than anticipating the eventual official welcome into their family ( as well as the grandchildren that would follow ).

in their distraction with one another, they miss the way y/n’s eyes and ears flick towards the passing chief of the metkayina, the large male looking at her as well through the corner of his eye as he passes while making rounds of the village as he did every morning. she raises an eyebrow and he obviously fights off a slight smile before carrying on on his way. neteyam, watching all of this in amusement, uncurls his tail from hers and slaps her on the back with it gently, regaining her attention as she turns to smack him back and  start squabbling with him through a smile of her own. 

his parents and siblings, oblivious as ever, just hide their smiles and laughter as they watch the two. 

the work day begins after that, neteyam and y/n make their way through the village doing the tasks assigned to them with relative ease and swiftness, much to the pleasure of the metkayina and their leaders. the two had taken to ocean life and works with ease, working hard and long to earn their keep all day long. 

their tails, linked as always, keep them from losing each other as they travel through the busy epicenter of the village, a place teeming with children and expecting mothers and the elderly and sickly as well as other working na’vi, and neither pay attention to the occasional stares they get for it. 

“so… gonna tell me more about your little adventure last night?” he murmurs into her ear as they sit down at a more private spot with all of the seagrass, reeds, and other things that they’d be hand weaving into baskets and braiding into nets today. 

y/n laughs softly, a twinkle in her eye that neteyam was excited to see ( it had been so long, after all ). “how much do you want to know?” she asks quietly, taking a few reeds and stripping them to get the stringy insides, her fingers flying as she begins braiding them as easily as she braided neteyam’s hair. 

“skxawng — you know i want you to tell me everything,” he snaps through a grin. “you got fucked by the metkayina olo’eyktan, and this seduction of yours has been months in the making. don’t be so cruel as to keep secrets from me.”

y/n is quiet for a while, thinking about what he said, before replying with a, “well, it was more like i fucked him,” that has neteyam’s jaw dropping around a wild smile. 

“you topped him?!” he hisses, laughing a little, and y/n grins back as she shrugs. 

“i don’t kiss and tell,” she says in mock-snootiness, and he scoffs and bumps her with his shoulder. 

“liar, you’ve told me how all your lovers’ cum tasted, tell me how it was,” he retorts, ignoring her hiss for him to lower his voice as she giggles a little. 

“it was…” she sighs. “god, neteyam, it was so good.” he raises an eyebrow and waits for her to continue, which she does. “he was so attentive and sweet — nothing like the bumbling omaticaya boys, and he knew how to eat it unlike most of the omaticaya girls and boys.”

neteyam grins. “so you’re saying… this is a man,” he says, and y/n swats at him through a grin of her own before giggling deviously. 

“one could say that it’s two men,” she purrs, and neteyam’s eyes widen. 

“it’s that big?!” he hisses, and she nods wildly with a wide smile. the two fall apart in the revelation she shared, tossing opinions back and forth, including thoughts of ronal; neither were unfamiliar with partners of the same sex, and both had been a part of a group of na’vi seeking pleasure more than once, always groups including both of them. neteyam knew what y/n liked, had seen her go for it in person multiple times, and from what both had murmured about in the dark ( even during times the two had fucked here in awa’atlu before y/n had really set her sights on tonowari and his wife ) he knew that she more than liked what she saw when gazing at the olo’eyktan and tsahik. 

“god, ‘teyam, i came four times,” y/n groans, covering her face for a second, and neteyam’s eyes widened. 

“you were only gone for an hour!” he cries quietly; both notice when ronal enters the center area of the village and that she’s watching them, but act as if they don’t notice the glares sent y/n’s way by the tsahik in favor of continuing their conversation. “we went out together to practice and then you caught his scent and ditched me —goddess above, it must have been good.  is that why you came back on such shaky legs?”

“you have no idea,” y/n murrs, leaning against him fondly. “he’s one of the best i’ve ever had. i mean it.”

neteyam looks impressed. “damn,” he replies, “you better fucking lock that down.”

y/n giggles. “do you not see the way ronal is looking at me?” she asks warmly, and neteyam scoffs. 

“she always looks at you like that, she hates you,” he retorts, and it was true; while it was a known metkayina custom for their olo’eyktan to take on more than one partner and/or mate, tonowari and ronal’s relationship was well known as he had stayed with her and her alone for just over twenty years now. “you better go down on her like you did irta’ne back home.” y/n rolls her eyes.

“tonowari and i have been meeting more than just last night,” she says ( as if neteyam doesn’t already know ). “we’ve had many conversations, learned much about each other. last night we only wished to press further — and once we were done, he promised that tonight we would make tsaheylu and confirm our relationship, that i would become his wife.” this bit of information surprises neteyam; he’d obviously known that the two had been meeting up, and that the two had been engaging in sexual pleasure with each other for the last three or so months, but this? this was new. y/n had never entertained the thought of mating before with anyone but him ( they’d sworn that if they both were still unmated by the time they turned thirty that they’d bond with each other when they’d passed their iknimaya back home ); this was big. he opens his mouth to comment on it, but y/n isn’t finished. “he told me that he’d told ronal of his intentions already. that’s why she’s been avoiding us as best she can.”

“and as usual, i’m being punished by association,” neteyam groans playfully, laughing a little when y/n pushes him slightly, only to get serious. “really though, i am happy for you — this is really important. i know you’ve been hesitant about mating, and to know that you consider tonowari and ronal the perfect match is good.”

y/n smiles. “thank you,” she whispers, truly happy, and the two press close and intertwine their tails again before returning to their work, which they’d been distracted from. a thought comes to y/n, and she snorts, and when neteyam gives her a confused look she squints at him. 

 “and by the way, when i get my hands on ronal, i’ll have her howling like i had all the girls, not just irta’ne,” she grumbles matter-of-factly. 

neteyam just laughs. 

night falls sooner than either neteyam or y/n planned, and before know it they’re returning to the marui they shared with the rest of neteyam’s family and  settling down for the night. y/n curls up beside neteyam on their shared bedroll as usual, their tails curling together as they tended to throughout the day and at all times while they slept, and when they give their second blanket to tuk because she complains of still being cold they press closer to one another, whispering back and forth in volumes far too low for even their family member to head despite being so close. once again jake and neytiri share knowing glances ( though truthfully they knew nothing at all ) as they get ready for rest as well, and soon everything is silent aside from the sounds of them sleeping. 

y/n hums in her sleep, pressing closer to neteyam on instinct then blinking awake slowly when the warmth of his body seeps into her more. she glances through slitted eyes towards the window, seeing the darkness outside, and slowly disentangles herself from her friend, who blearily opens his eyes before squinting up at her. 

“it is time,” she whispers, not having to explain herself, and suddenly he’s wide awake. he sits up.

“i’m so happy for you,” he whispers, smiling fondly at her, and she smiles back. 

“me too,” she responds softly, and he gets up to walk her out of the marui, neither noticing neytiri’s eyes open and widen as she sees the two walk out hand in hand as quietly as possible. she smiles, excited for the impending announcement from her son and future daughter tomorrow, and tries to go back to sleep.

neteyam and y/n part ways halfway to the usual meeting spot that tonowari and y/n shared, and neteyam bumps his nose against hers once fondly. “good luck,” he whispers. “if you need me, yell for me; i’ll listen.”

“perv,” y/n murmurs softly through a slight smile, and neteyam scoffs. 

“nevermind, skxawng,” he replies, rolling his eyes and smiling before backing off. y/n sends a nod his way, then turns and walks toward the spot she intended to meet tonowari. it’s not too far of a swim once she reaches the water, and she finds him waiting for her still dripping wet; he clearly had only just gotten here himself, knelt surrounded by the glowing flora and beneath eywa’s many stars. 

“tonowari,” y/n calls softly, and she sees his ears flick up excitedly before he turns with a smile, watching with interest as she pulls herself from the water. 

“hello, my love,” he murmurs, walking towards her and resting his hands on her hips. she presses her body against him, sighing happily as she soak up his warmth, and smiles against him as she feels him chuckle. “i have waited all day for tonight,” he whispers, and she laughs. 

“oh? and why do you speak so softly when we are the only ones here?” she asks, her voice just as quiet. he leans down and presses his forehead against hers, not responding, and she melts into it. 

“out of respect for you.”

goddess above. no one, man or woman, had ever made her feel the way he did. 

she pulls away from him, slowly moving around him in a dance he mimics as they circle one another. the tension between them grows, and he follows her deeper into the glowing depths of the lone island that housed more flora than was present at the beaches, the island that reminded her of the forest she used to call home. tonowari had brought her here on their tenth or so escapade when he remembered what it looked like and hoped that it could bring her a sense of comfort; she had cried that night, and had held him close. they had done nothing but sleep in each other’s arms, and it was what had boosted their romantic relationship in ways they could never come back from. after that day, y/n had cut off neteyam. 

“come,” y/n whispers over her shoulder, disappearing onto the trees, and tonowari follows like a starving man to a meal, never one to deny her. they rush through the plants growing everywhere, each step they take lighting up the plants beneath their feet and marking their way before slowly fading out as they continue forward until finally they stop before a grove of trees that glowed the most beautiful shades of pinks, purples, and blues. the two stand side by side in silence, staring, before y/n wraps her hands around tonowari’s wrist and studies it, knowing he’s looking down at her fondly but nervous to witness it; tonowari had such a way when it came to speaking with just his eyes, and it took her breath away every time. 

“if you are nervous, we can wait,” he murmurs, but y/n shakes her head. 

“no,” she whispers. “i want this. i want you.”

the two press on into the trees before finding a spot y/n deemed perfect, pressing close enough that their skin pressed flush against the other. y/n climbs on top of where he’s knelt on his knees, cupping his face in both of her hands and staring into his eyes as the two speak wordlessly. the stars, scattered between the glowing flora above them, reflect in his eyes, and she finds herself dangerously close to being lost in them until he tilts his jaw up to kiss her. melting into it, y/n moved her hands from where they’d cupped his face to where she can loosely loop her arms around his neck and over his shoulder, her wrists crossed and hands hanging limply in only the way they’d ever be around him. 

“i love you,” he whispers into her mouth, and she bites at his bottom lip before returning the phrase. his hands begin to wander, stopping to toy at the ties of her loincloth on her hips, and she lifts them so he can remove it easier so they can begin. tonowari’s own loincloth has mysteriously been discarded already as y/n sinks back down to sit on his thick thighs, and she laughs happily into the crook of his neck. “what’s so funny?”

“your eagerness for tonight has shown itself endlessly to me,” y/n admits, shifting to press his cock ( long since hardened ) against her slit, and he laughs as well. 

“how could i not be eager for you?” he asks fondly, running his thumb over the soft skin of her hip. “my family is soon to grow by the grace of the great mother and by you, loving me.”

“who says i love you?” y/n retorts affectionately, already reaching for his braid as he does the same for hers with a snort. 

“you yourself, not more than two minutes ago,” he breathes as they hold their queues up to one another. they’re both just out of reach of the other, the silky pink strands reaching for the other in a silent insistence that only furthered their thoughts of this being what was intended. 

tonowari glances up at y/n and takes in they way she eyes the beginnings of their bond with wonder, then looks back down as she begins to move her wrist ever so slightly. one strand of her queue links with his, and their pupils blow together and tonowari’s one-handed grip on her hip tightens enough to bruise  as the bond begins to form. endless emotions and feelings fly through the bond, y/n sinking down on his cock and making them both gasp at the sudden feelings coursing through them. it wasn’t their first time fucking, nor was it their first time getting sexual, but goddess above was this different than every other time they’d shared. 

lifting herself up, y/n relishes the slide inside as his cock slowly leaves her body before she drops back down, filling herself up with him again. she lets go of her braid on favor of wrapping her arms around him, uncharacteristically vulnerable, as he does the same. “close, i want you close,” she whimpers, and he purrs against her throat. 

“we cannot get any closer than we are now, my love,” he breathes. “great goddess above, thank you — thank you, y/n, for this.”

“yes — yes, yes, yes… f-fuck,” y/n whimpers, and tonowari groans and begins to meet the drop of her hips with thrusts of her own. 

“s-so good, my love, so good for me, just like that…” he moans, pressing his face into her chest and furrowing his brow as the pleasure rolls over him like tides on the shore. she’s warm, and she’s soft, and he can’t get enough. 

they fuck until they both are exhausted, then curl up beneath the trees with one of her legs hiked up and thrown over him, his seed dripping from her swollen cunt in a steady stream. her head rests on his chest as one of his hands toys with her braids, and neither can control the smiles on their faces as they rest there together. this time after was for them, to bask in the glow that followed tsaheylu, and to relish the feelings that came with it. both are lulled into a serene sleep, aided by the rolling waves and the wind in the trees and the warmth of the other’s body. 

explanations — to the clan and to the sullys — could come with the rise of the sun. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[volpe-kitsune-red]

I love Lynx so much! Her calling her darling her pet does things to me

What about Lynx with a darling who talks about how they wish vampires were real and would love to be one? Lynx gets fed up and reveals herself to her darling and offers to turn them, leaving out the part where that would bind her darling to her and force them to follow her orders.

I feel like more than getting fed up, she would see it as an opportunity to make things easier for herself haha. This is going to be a bit shorter not because I don't like the request, but because I wanted to focus more on the main scene rather than the build-up!

Lynx Andromeda x reader

Her darling's greatest wish is to be a vampire, she'll show them how easy it is for dreams to become a reality...

It's almost midnight, and you find yourself standing inside an old abandoned church in the middle of the woods. It's unexpectedly clean, somehow there is a complete lack of graffiti, dirt, or overgrown plants plaguing the outstanding architecture. The only aspect that serves as a testimony of its neglect in the last decade is a giant hole in the ceiling, right on top of the altar. The moonlight shining into the space reflects itself on the marble and onto Lynx's eternally pale skin, wich you can easily admire as she's placed herself directly in front of you and perhaps, too closely so.

She had randomly decided to plan an entire day full of activities for you two, it's not unusual, but this time it felt different. If she wasn't your lifelong friend, you would have mistaken this for a date. She took you to all your favorite places, you had a nice lunch and dinner together, and she even bought you both elegant and matching outfits... which you were wearing right now since she insisted it was necessary before she brought you here.

"Love, I have something very important to tell you." She says as she takes both your hands into hers. "I...I am a vampire." This is obviously a joke, so you decide to play along. "Then what are you waiting for? Bite me so we can be vampires together haha. Don't play with me, you know how much I wish that were possible."

"Oh my dear, you might not understand it yet, but both our wishes will be eternally fulfilled in this magnificent night..." She pulls you towards her and you grip her shoulders to prevent yourself from falling. You can feel her unnatural cold breath tickle the skin of your neck. "...we won't have to wait any longer for our prayers to be answered." Before you can ask any question, sharp needle-like teeth are plunged into your flesh. You cry out in pain.

She tries to soothe you by affectionately petting the back of your head but it's practically useless. You slowly lose all your senses before plunging into a world of darkness. "Sleep well my precious pet. You're finally mine...forever mine. This is what you truly wanted in the end, right?."

[nitrateglow]

Spooky Season 2024: 6-11

Targets (dir. Peter Bogdanovich, 1968)

Targets follows two parallel stories that eventually intertwine. The first involves elderly horror star Byron Orlock (Boris Karloff), disillusioned with his professsion and the real-world violence around him, and intent on retiring from film. The second involves Bobby (Tim O'Kelly), a disturbed young man obsessed with guns who goes on a murder spree. Both points converge at the drive-in premiere of Orlock's newest film.

Targets caught me offguard. The violence in the story involves a mass shooter and so it has a lot of real-world parallels. The killings are presented in a matter of fact way, without spectacle or blood geysers. It makes all of it feel more real and upsetting, especially since we've seen our share of Bobby-like killers over the decades.

My youngest sister watched this one with me and kept calling Karloff's character "Babygirl" and that isn't wrong. Though crabby and cynical, Byron is really charming and likeable. The arc he undergoes is really powerful, particularly as it pertains to his relationship with his secretary Jenny (Nancy Hsueh).

Though the tensions of the late '60s are a major part of Targets, it also deals with the gulf between the old school horror movies represented by Orlock and the more violent fare of the dawning New Hollywood era. I feel like there are just so many layers here. I really need to rewatch it. It's a fascinating movie and I would highly recommend it.

The Phantom of the Opera (dir. Dwight H. Little, 1989)

Modern singer Christine Day (Jill Schoelen) is sent back in time to a previous life as an aspiring opera singer in 1880s London. Her mentor is Erik Destler (Robert Englund), a disfigured composer who made a deal with the devil that left him immortal and embittered. He also has a habit of skinning people and then stitching the flesh on his ugly ass face. The opera management wants to build up another diva's career at the expense of Christine's. Erik doesn't like this. People start getting killed.

The 1989 The Phantom of the Opera is such a mixed bag, but I enjoy it anyway. The script is a mess. It frames the story with this weird time travel/reincarnation/isekai plot that doesn't add up to anything. It introduces interesting concepts-- like the relationship between Christine and Erik reflecting Erik's own deal with the devil-- without fleshing them out. Also-- and if Letterboxd is anything to go by, I'm in the minority-- I'm not crazy about Jill Schoelen's Christine, though I think that's more due to the way Christine is written than how she plays the role.

But then you have the glorious production design, stagebound but dripping in gothic candlelight and late Victorian grime. Best of all, you get Robert Englund's Erik Destler, one of the best onscreen Phantoms of all time.

I love how Englund's Erik is both an excitable schoolboy, almost squealing with delight while Christine kills it at Faust, and a violent, vengeful monster who doesn't take his will being defied lightly. I like the skin-grafting angle for the mask and that Erik ventures out into the London underworld at night. These are all fresh elements and I wish they could have been combined with a tighter, more focused script.

Still, this is a fun movie.

Murders in the Zoo (dir. A. Edward Sutherland, 1933)

A zoologist (Lionel Atwill) is pathologically jealous of his younger wife (Kathleen Burke), and so starts killing any perceived rival to his possession of her. Very pre-code violence ensues.

I'm going to be blunt: this movie did not live up to the hype. A lot of pre-code fans vouch for it as the nastiest horror film of the era. That is likely true. The first thing we see is a man getting his mouth sewed shut, a bit of nastiness that would shock in a recent film, let alone one from 1933. There are some gruesome killings throughout.

Too bad the story is sluggish and dull. There's a lot of corny comic relief that stops the action dead. The direction is flat. It's definitely not a movie I can see myself revisiting. There's barely anything there to sustain interest beyond the occasional creative murder-- no atmosphere, no anything.

Other than the murders, the only thing that stood out to me was Kathleen Burke as the tragic wife of the crazy zoologist. Burke is best remembered as Lota the Panther Woman in Island of Lost Souls. Her career fizzled out quickly, which is a shame because she has great presence and no shortage of talent.

The Black Room (dir. Roy William Neill, 1935)

In a Tyrolean town, an ancient prophecy swears that the ruling house will be destroyed when twins are born and the younger brother kills the older. So when the baron is presented with twin sons, he does everything he can to prevent the prophecy, such as sealing up the Black Room where the murder is supposed to occur. The boys grow up different as can be: the older brother Gregor (Boris Karloff) is cruel and sensual, abusing the locals and his own power, while the younger Anton (also Karloff) is gentle and kind. Despite his twin's sweet nature, Gregor is still concerned for his life and his continued domination of the town. He hatches a devious plan to cheat fate, but can he?

For some reason, I thought I had seen this movie long ago, but apparently not. What a delightful gothic story this is! It's filled with all the old school tropes played straight: an ancient prophecy, a lecherous nobleman preying on innocent maidens, a torture chamber filed with corpses, a dark and gloomy castle. There is a subtle sense of grim humor throughout, but it never descends into parody when it easily could have.

If you've ever doubted Karloff's capabilities as an actor, this movie should remedy that opinion. He plays two distinct characters, and at one point, gives a performance within a performance. All three performances feature their own unique body language, line delivery, and business. It's astonishing throughout.

Equally impressive is the direction from Roy William Neill. Best known for helming the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes movies, his direction here is so dynamic and impressive, not in the least stagey or inert.

One last thing: for a post-Production Code movie, it has a surprising amount of violence and sexuality. Gregor is clearly using the local women for his sexual gratification before murdering them, and his interest in Marian Marsh's lovely aristocratic girl is 100% carnal. There's a pit full of corpses and we get to look into it rather than have its presence alluded to offscreen. It's all nasty stuff. It really feels like the filmmakers got away with a lot, even if it seems tame by modern standards!

The Bells (dir. James Young, 1926)

Innkeeper Mathias (Lionel Barrymore) hopes to become burgomaster of his village. He hopes endless credit and free drinks will sway the populace to support him, but this comes close to killing his business and destroying his family. Desperate, he murders a wealthy guest, destroys the body, and uses his pilfered gold to pay off all debts and influence his way to power. However, both the crushing guilt and a mesmerist (Boris Karloff) with mind-reading powers threaten to expose him.

This is one of those movies that has a great premise, but the execution is very underwhelming. The filmmakers waste a lot of time on the romantic antics of Mathias' pretty daughter and goofy comedy. It's like they were timid about leaning more into the gothic, distressing elements of this dark story and it makes the film drag.

Still, Barrymore is good, especially once he commits the murder and starts going all Telltale Heart. But the best thing in the movie is definitely Boris Karloff. He had been in movies since 1919 and it wouldn't be until Frankenstein in 1931 that he became a star. But it's safe to say, The Bells gives Karloff his first standout role.

Karloff's character doesn't show up a lot, but he is the biggest threat to Mathias' power. Though his Caligari cosplay is hilarious (for real, the filmmakers didn't even TRY to hide the Caligari influence), he has this creepy shit-eating grin that really leaves an impression.

Is Karloff enough to make this worth watching? Eh, I don't think so. There are far better silent thrillers you could be watching.

The Sorcerers (dir. Michael Reeves, 1967)

Elderly Professor Montserratt (Boris Karloff) and his wife Estelle (Catherine Lacey) use a mind control procedure on young stud Mike Roscoe (Ian Ogilvy). Able to experience everything he feels and to control his behavior if they wish, the two vicariously experience the thrills of Swinging London through their test subject. However, Estelle gets drunk on power and starts using Mike to engage in multiple crimes, including murder.

This movie was hyped to me, so maybe it's partially my fault I was so disappointed by the end result. With the exception of Estelle, the story lacks compelling characters. There's no sense of pathos to Mike's victimization and downfall because he's bland as hell and passive, a deadly combination if you want me to give a damn about your narrative.

Everything about this movie feels drab, both the visuals and the filmmaking itself. Big setpieces like the hypnotism scene or the telepathic motorcycle ride are supposed to be kinetic and exciting, but they just feel like the product of an enthusiastic amateur. I've seen low budget movies that have real personality and verve despite their lack of resources (see Blast of Silence), but The Sorcerers just feels cheap and uninspired in every way. I struggled to finish it even though it wasn't even an hour and a half long.

It's a shame because I like the central premise: two elderly people use this device to vicariously experience the fast life of swinging London. But it's done so poorly. It's hard to believe director Michael Reeves' next film would be the masterful Witchfinder General.

[artificial-transmutations]

Closer Than Flesh - Closer Than Flesh

There is no ill influence or demonic corruption this time, as the power of the sigil stone, cleansed with the last bit of the divine spark, reforms Jake's body again.

Unlike the times before, there doesn't seem to be a random or chaotic element to it, but the transformative magic does exactly what Jake wishes for.

And there is another difference: Skyler, his best friend and current cock is mentally with Jake, allowing them to consult in the short time while the magic does its work.

"We will need to fight Baelnath, so we should have a body capable of doing so." says Skyler's voice in Jake's head.

"Okay, so... Like a soldier or a policeman?" Jake tried to picture a fitting form.

"Those are mainly good fighters if they are many. How about a mercenary or a bodyguard?" Skyler replies.

"Alright. Bodyguard. Help me picture our new body, Sky!"

They concentrate together and sure enough, Jake's body, his original body that he just got back, begins to change again.

As it is to be expected, strength, manliness and testosterone pulse through him, as his stance widens and his frame packs on mass. It is not as large as when he was the demon, but still, the man has a built-in athletic body.

"Hmm..." Jake says and flexes his biceps. "Not bad, but we need more!"

He draws on more power from the stone and changes his body further. His height increases to almost two meters and his skin hardens from hard training sessions. His body becomes fast, athletic and strong, but precise as a ballet dancer.

As a finishing touch, Jake decides to add a bit of the Arab ethnicity to the mix, a nod to the first body he had changed into.

Once his body is done, his clothing forms over his body: First, a filled to the brim jockstrap, holding Skyler firmly in place along with a cup to protect him.

Then, layer by layer, dark and sturdy combat gear comes into existence, ending with a pair of sunglasses, completing the "badass" look Jake and Skyler were aiming for. Lastly, the power of the stone's magic embeds them back into the world.

Jake looks around to quickly find out where they are. He is in front of a warehouse, one of many in a port area. This place has been used for some sort of shipping industry, but it looks like it is no longer in operation. There is a large open area with several warehouses, a parking lot and an office building. It seems like they are at the dead end of the port, with a small forest behind it. Luckily, the area seems to be devoid of any human life, which is a good thing: It negates one of the most problematic powers of Baelnath more or less entirely, as there are no humans to possess for him.

"Well... I know a boss arena if I see one." Jake mumbles in the baritone voice of the fighter male he and Skyler have created.

He looks around uneasily. It is late afternoon, and it's a sunny day in the early autumn. There is a light wind going over the sea, creating waves and a salty taste on Jake's lips. It's hard to say what country they are in - it could be quite anything.

There is no sign of any movement, and no sign of a big red demon anywhere. If it hadn't been for the magic of the stone that had brought them here, Jake would have his doubts that this is really where Baelnath is. However, the magic of the stone has proven to be not entirely exact before.

The sound of his heavy boots hitting the concrete floor echoes in the open area as Jake walks around. Nothing.

"Is he... hiding from us?" Skyler asks after a while.

Jake almost jumps from the sudden voice in his head but calms down quickly again and answers: "I don't know. Do you feel anything?"

Skyler stays silent for a moment before he answers: "Yes. Yes, I think he is here."

Jake looks around uneasily again, trying to find any hint that he can follow to lead him to Baelnath.

Finally, he decides to go into the offensive. He reaches at his waist and draws a gun from a holster on his belt. Of course, the old Jake had no idea on how to handle a gun, but this new body of his knows - and that's all he needs.

"Come on, Baelnath!" he shouts into the open area, his voice echoing from the warehouse walls. "Show yourself! I have the power now and I'm ready to face you!"

They hear the sound of laughter from behind the office building and Skyler exclaims in their mind: "He's here! Be ready!"

Jake's eyes focus on the corner of the building, as a large, hulking demon emerges from behind it. The red skin and glowing eyes are unmistakable. Baelnath.

As it is his usual entrance, he is followed by black and dark red mist, reminding Jake of wings coming from the muscular, red-skinned body. If he had thought that the demon was afraid of him, the sneering smirk on the demonic face disposes of that idea. Baelnath is having fun.

"You are a lot stronger now than you were the last time I saw you, little mortal", the demon says, his voice deep and echoing through Jake's mind.

"To be honest, I didn't think you would find the strength to resist the abyss for much longer - and yet, here you are."

"Here I am", Jake says firmly and raises the gun in front of his body. "And you know why?"

Baelnath laughs out loud, his voice making the hair on Jake's neck stand up.

"Let me guess. You are going to fight me, with that little mortal toy of yours. You will succeed where everyone else has failed before. Because you are special. Your will is strong enough not to be easily subdued and you have resisted the temptation of the abyss."

It isn't that far off from what Jake had intended to say, but the mocking voice of the demon make it sound silly all of a sudden. Jake gulps and grabbed the gun firmer. His hands are sweating, and he still can't make out any sign of insecurity from the demon. This conversation is not going as planned.

"But you are wrong, little mortal. Your strength is not enough. And neither is your will. I made you an offer back then that you have foolishly discarded. Now face the consequences."

All of a sudden, Jake feels an immense pressure on his mind. The demon is trying to subdue his will with his own demonic magic, trying to bend Jake's mind.

Jake resists as well as he could, but the strength of Baelnath is beyond anything Jake had ever encountered, even stronger than the first time Baelnath tried this. He feels powerless against the demonic mind and has to watch as, against his will, he lowers the arm holding the gun.

"Don't worry, Jake. I'm here." Skyler's voice is calm and strong in Jake's mind. He can feel his cock strain against the cup in his jockstrap and Skyler joining him in the mental battle. Skyler's will is so much stronger than Jake's own, but yet, alone he, too, wouldn't stand a chance against the demon.

Together, however, with their two minds acting as one, they might have a chance. Jake pushes against Baelnath, while Skyler supports him. The mental pressure increases, but so do their own forces. It's like a game of tug of war, with the demonic and the human forces in balance. Sweat runs down Jake's forehead and Baelnath concentrates the entirety of his demonic will into the mental attack, as he growls: "You cannot fight me!"

In response, Skyler whispers in Jake's mind, full of determination: "Together."

With one decisive mental action and a quick movement, the two friends push out Baelnath's will, making his eyes grow big in surprise. At the same time, a loud bang echoes through the area as Jake pulls the trigger.

The bullet flies at incredible speed and strikes the demon right in his sternum, making the large body tumble, but doing almost no damage.

The red demon recoils for a moment, while the human and his dick in the body try to regain their balance.

Jake doesn't have to hear Skyler to know what he says: "Again!"

Several more shots hit the demon in quick succession, each sending the body back half a meter from the sheer force of impact. However, as the dust clears, the demon doesn't seem to be much damaged. Baelnath looks down at the black spot on his sternum where the bullet struck and then back up, looking angry.

"I see how it is now. You're not alone in there, aren't you? You sneaky bastard! That explains so much, even though I don't know how you did it." Baelnath snarls.

Jake is sweating and feeling very uncomfortable with his hard-on under the combat gear. Baelnath might not know who is in his body right now, but he knows Jake has backup.

"But no matter how many people you have in your head, you have but one body. I am not called the twisted master of flesh for no reason. Behold and watch your precious body wither!"

The demon raises a hand and points at Jake, who immediately starts to feel the now familiar feeling of change. The muscles and impressive stature of this body quickly melt away, and Jake feels weaker and weaker with each heartbeat. He hasn't even considered before that, of course, Baelnath can just change his body!

"Shit! He's taking your body away, Jake!" Skyler sounds alarmed.

Although Jake has not ever been at eye level with the demon, he positively has to look up to the smirking demon now and feels small and insignificant. The difference in strength and manliness becomes increasingly apparent with each pulse of the magic around him, and his smaller body betrays his mind as he can't help but marvel at the sheer display of strength in front of him.

Jake's jaw drops as he watches Baelnath flex his muscular arms, the bulging muscles still retaining the massive form he has always been.

The red demon leans down towards him, still smirking, much more confident now.

"Do you feel it already? The need to serve your superior? Do you wonder how this can be? Has the big bad demon broken my mind despite my best attempts?"

Baelnath laughs.

"You are so naive. One should think that a human being would know more about human nature than a demon from hell. But you don't. You live your life in ignorance of the basic principles of humanity. That feeling you feel now, it is not one of the mind. It's primal and entirely bodily, sexual even. The need to submit to me, to serve a clearly stronger leader is as hardcoded into your DNA as the need to mate is."

Jake tries to resist the change, but he feels powerless against it. It is like Baelnath's words have put him in a trance, making it hard to think clearly. Skyler is not of much help here. His now much smaller cock body is throbbing with anticipation, and his entire mind seems to be focused on the bulging masculine curves of the demon in front of him. It is as Baelnath said: The feeling is hot and burning and sexual. An involuntary moan escapes Jake's small and insignificant body. He really is powerless.

Powerless... No. He is not powerless. Even though his body betrays him, he still has the sigil stone with Baelnath's own power, purified by the angelic spark, contained within. Even though every instinct screams at him to submit to Baelnath, he shoves his left hand into his pocket, grabbing the stone. Baelnath isn't the only one with magic here.

The magic flows readily out of the stone as Jake draws on it, taking a generous amount of power to counter the magic of the demon. In a split second, Jake feels himself becoming stronger than he ever felt before. His body, despite being so small and insignificant, fills the whole area with a magical aura that overwhelms the demonic one.

"What!" Exclaims the demon, before reinforcing his own influence. Sparks rain down between them as they pit their magic power against each other. It is as Mog'Tol has said: Only the same demon's power can counter a demon's magic.

In the few seconds Baelnath has needed to answer with greater force, Jake has managed to quickly fix some of the flaws of his body, getting it back into a lean swimmers build that did not make him feel the need to submit that strongly.

Swirls of magic are flying left and right now, as both beings, demon and man, pit their power against each other in a way of a supernatural wrestling of arms. It's clearly a stalemate. Neither can defeat the other without great risk, and neither is willing to give up, as their mutual will to not be defeated has grown.

It doesn't help much when Skyler's voice sounds alarmed in Jake's head. "Jake, be careful! The power in that stone isn't endless, Mog'Tol has explained that to Baelnath. Perhaps he is trying to drain you out!"

The truth of Skyler's words makes Jake focus more on the flow of magic in his left hand, where the power flows into. He concentrates on feeling every single drop and every single spark that flows out of the stone and back into him. The truth is, Jake has no idea how much juice the stone has left, but at that rate, it seems sensible that it will be drained quickly. He needs to switch strategies.

Carefully, he strains to extract even more power from the stone, but not to pit it against the demon in the astral battlefield between them. Instead, he uses it to change his body again.

What he needs for his idea is raw physical power, a lot of it. Power and speed.

He imagines the body of Bjørnar. He needs that - and even more. It is hard to concentrate on growing his body when he is still busy pitting raw magic power against the demon and illuminating the darkening environment with magic discharges. But bit by bit, every muscle on his body bulges, becoming greater than ever again. Biceps, triceps, pectorals, all the small and big muscles needed for being strong and fast. The body that quickly fills his shirt and pants is bigger than anything he was in before. He is becoming a true titan of a man!

With a deep cry, he suddenly launches himself at the demon, right through the thick field of magic all around him. Straining the power of the stone even more, he hardens his clothes into a modern armor chest plate and materializes a big ass sword in his hand, striking at the demon.

"Oh, fuck yeah, Jake!" Skyler exclaims in his mind as he sees the sheer display of raw strength Jake has managed to draw out from the stone.

Baelnath can only blink in surprise as he is hit in the face by the giant, flying at him full force. He has been completely caught off guard by this assault, which makes the impact so much worse. The red skin of the demon is ripped open on his cheek and jaw by the impact of the sword, which sends him backwards several meters. The pressure of demonic magic against Jake is interrupted at once and the magic around them dissolves into harmless sparks and lights. The sun has begun to set now and paints the area in an orange shade.

"So, you have chosen violence. I hate violence!" Baelnath says slowly and stands up again. His magic focuses on himself, too, now and Jake can see the wounds that he has caused are quickly healing. In his hands, the dark red mist contracts into a heavy, two handed and double bladed axe dripping with red liquid. A demonic weapon if Jake has ever seen one.

For a moment, the giant mortal and the demon lord look each other in the eye, panting heavily, until Jake breaks the silence again. With an angry growl, he launches himself for a second time, raising his sword and letting out a primal scream. This time, the two of them clash. Baelnath's axe meets Jake's sword with a clang, as they strike each other hard enough to make sparks fly. Jake quickly withdraws his sword and swings it around for a second hit, this time using the stone's power generously to augment his own strength.

The two giants of the supernatural battle ground fight each other. The sound of their blades hitting each other echo through the empty area, followed by the heavy panting of the two beings. Baelnath is clearly struggling against the sheer power of the titanic mortal, who is more than a match for the demon in pure strength. They strike each other again and again, as Jake finds every possible angle to strike Baelnath's powerful frame, not letting up on his assault.

More than once, the big sword or the heavy axe meet flesh and cause heavy wounds. Blood spurts paint the concrete floor red where they meet and make it slippery and wet at places. One time, Jake even manages to cut off Baelnath's lower left arm, but each of the opponents has magic to their disposal. Wounds close and the cut-off arm just regrows at Baelnath's will.

Sword swing, sword swing, dodge roll to avoid the giant axe. Jake quickly feels the fatigue of the fight creep in. Even with all the strength he has gained from the sigil stone, the demon is still a demon and not to be underestimated. In his head, Skyler is keeping up as well, shouting instructions as Jake dodges Baelnath's axe by a hair's breadth.

"Left!" "No! Right!" "Use the stone!" "Don't drop your guard!"

Jake is listening to Skyler's directions, but they seem to have lost the advantage they had before the fight started. The demon and him are evenly matched and it's only a matter of who tires more quickly.

Drawing another big piece of the body altering magic of the sigil stone, Jake dissolves the backside of his armor and grows a magnificent pair of wings on his back. With a powerful jump of his strong legs, he leaps into the air and flies over the demon lord, who is left dumbfounded as he watches the giant body of Jake rise into the air, now with a new advantage over his opponent.

From above, soaring through the air, it is easier to strike at the demon and to dodge Baelnath's attacks - at least until the demon himself uses his magic to lift himself into the air. Now the two of them are flying in the sky over the deserted area of the port, flying at each other in a deadly game of aerial sword and axe strikes. The sounds of clashing metal and growling resonate between the buildings of the port, which seems to stretch out forever below them. Jake needs to rely even more on the power of the sigil stone to keep himself from falling down, changing his body here and there and augmenting his strikes and dodges.

Even with all the advantages his new winged body gives him, he can't seem to gain the upper hand against the red demon. Baelnath is much stronger than Jake has ever given him credit for, and his endurance seems infinite.

"Sky, think! We need some advantage, some distraction." Jake shouts in his mind, trying to find a way out of their stalemate.

Skyler's mind is in overdrive. Isn't there anything he knows about the demon that he can use to his advantage? Suddenly, he gets an idea.

"You need to bring some distance between the two of you!"

Jake nods and disengages the demon, zooming to a stony beach nearby.

"What now?!" He asks anxiously, keeping a careful eye on the demon, who takes a moment before following him by hovering in the air, laughing.

"Just like that, mortal. Run as you will, but you will never escape!"

However, despite the arrogant words, his voice is clearly strained and exhausted. The demon must be feeling the fatigue as much as Jake.

"Listen, Jake. I don't know if it works, but... try to *summon* him here - and then, strike while he is disoriented."

Skyler remembers the feeling of discomfort Baelnath has felt as the Binding Circle has summoned him. Even though Skyler has no idea on the correct symbols or incantations, he just hopes they don't need it. If he remembers Mog'Tol’s teachings correctly, since they are using demonic magic, all they have to do is *want* to summon Baelnath enough. Of course, Skyler has no illusions on being able to bind Baelnath as the Binding Circle has done. That would only result in pitting their magic powers against each other again without the intricate circles and drawings of the human mages.

However, that one moment of distraction might be all they need to get the upper hand.

Jake lands at the beach and quickly disposes of his wings and changes back into less of a behemoth to be able to focus on one thing only. He closes his eyes in concentration, shutting out the outside world while he focuses on one thing and one thing only: To summon Baelnath, the demon. It doesn't matter that he is only a few hundred meters away. He is a demon and can be summoned. Jake gently bites the tip of his tongue as he draws magic power from the stone. Both he and Skyler can feel clearly that the magic doesn't come as easily as before. At first, Jake thinks that it's because of the difficult task, but Skyler's voice in his head offers another explanation: "Jake, I think this is it. The stone is nearly empty!"

Jake instinctively knows that Skyler is right. But it doesn't matter. For this task, there is still enough juice in there. Jake opens his eyes again and shouts: "Baelnath! Come here! Now!"

The magic works. From one moment to the other, Baelnath is plucked from the air some hundred meters away and delivered magically to the ground at Jake's feet - unarmed and disoriented.

Jake doesn't give the red demon the chance to react. With a magically enhanced mighty strike that drains the stone's reserves even more, he brings down his sword on the demon, wounding him gravely. He doesn't stop there, either. While Baelnath tries to raise his arm to shield himself from damage and his wounds begin to heal, Jake strikes again, and again, and again. It proves to be a poor choice of him to let go of his bodybuilder muscles, and each new strike is more exhausting than the last, but it is clear that Jake and Skyler have won now.

Baelnath is unable to do anything except to heal his body, and it is clear that his magic, too, is fading.

As Jake raises his sword for the final blow, however, Skyler stops him:

"Jake, hold on."

Jake halts. "What? No! It's over, Sky. Let's end it now."

"I know. But killing him won't work. For long, I mean."

"What do you mean?" Jake asks, still raising his sword over the red demon, who looks at him with a hateful yet powerless gaze.

"I mean that he will eventually come back. Mog'Tol said so to Baelnath before: He will come back to hell at some point, and I don't know how long it will take."

"And if he comes back, he'll come for us again." Jake says, understanding Skyler's point.

"Yes."

Jake nods slowly, and his arm lowers. "So... What do we do? Send him to hell now? Isn't that our only option?"

"Let me think, Jake. Give me a moment to think!"

"What are you waiting for?" the defeated demon, who didn't hear the conversation in Jake's head asks bitterly. "Just finish me off already."

Jake doesn't even react to Baelnath's words. Instead, he waits patiently with his sword drawn over the demon.

"I've got it!" Skyler exclaims in his head. "Do you remember what Mog'Tol said about demons? That they are made, not born?"

"Yes." Jake replies. He remembered the conversation about the demon's origins as well as Skyler did.

"The binding circle didn't mention a demon named Baelnath in their documents. That means that Baelnath had another name before he came to hell."

"Probably, but how does that help us?" Jake asks impatiently.

"I've got an idea. Let me think... Quor'Zhai, Han'labte, Pyrixiel, Tervonos,..." Skyler reiterated the list of names they had heard in the body of Dominik.

"Wait, perhaps this is some Lord Voldemort thing?"

"You mean an anagram?" Skyler ponders. "Could be - it would be pretty cliché, but I don't think that's much of a problem for demons. Okay, so 'Quor'Zhai' has a Q that 'Baelnath' has not, Han'labte has a..."

Skyler stops for a moment, before continuing. "God, Jake, I could kiss you. 'Baelnath' is an anagram of 'Han'labte'. That's his real name! And he was a spirit of nature once!"

"I know who you are, Han'labte!" Jake immediately uses his knowledge to address the demon on the ground.

"How... How did you know?" Baelnath says, incredulously.

That is all the confirmation the two friends need.

"But what do we do with it?" Jake asks silently.

"I guess with his true name, we could bind him or something like that. I don't know if the magic we have left is enough though."

"There's one more thing we can do." Jake says with a sudden pulse of determination. "Do you remember what that small raven demon said? Why you couldn't use the stone to turn me back into a human when I went full demon?"

"I couldn't, because the magic of a demon can only ever be undone by the same demon who cast it, or a miracle from above." Skyler cites. "And it wasn't Baelnath's power who turned you into a demon, but it was the first thing you did yourse- oh."

"Exactly." Jake nods. "We should be able to turn Baelnath back into Han'labte."

"Then let's do that!" Skyler says excitedly. "That's like the only option that won't come back to haunt us later!"

Jake nods again and grips the stone firmer but stops in his track again. "Damn. We can't do that."

"What? Why not?" asks Skyler, confused.

"Because we only have a tiny bit of magic left. If we use it to turn Baelnath back into his nicer form, we will need all of it. And then, there is no more magic left to turn you back into a human."

There is a moment of silence between the two friends. Regardless of how he looks at the situation, Skyler knows that Jake is right. He has been turned into a cock by the power of Baelnath. If they succeed with their plan, there is no Baelnath-magic left anywhere. And a demon's magic cannot be broken by anything else but the same demon or a miracle from above.

But if they don't do it, if they use the magic to turn back Skyler, all they can do with Baelnath is to kill him - and send him back to hell with that. That would buy them some time, perhaps a few years, before he comes back and takes revenge. But they would be left with an empty stone that cannot be refilled with more magic. Skyler, and Jake, would have no chance against the reborn Baelnath.

Looking at it that way, the only choice they have would be a short life with a bitter end as two humans - or keeping Jake safe for the price of Skyler having to stay a cock forever.

For Skyler, who has been in love with Jake for as long as he can remember, the choice is easy.

"It's... okay. Do it, Jake." Skyler says, softly. "I will stay with you as your dick - and it's the only solution that lasts."

"Sky, I can't-" Jake starts to protest, but Skyler interrupts him. "Jake, you don't know what you're saying. I've been dreaming about this for years. To be able to confess to you how I feel, and to be close to you. Look at us now, how close we have become. We are of one body, and I am a most important part of you. In a way, we are as close as you can become - closer than flesh."

"Sky... are you sure?" Jake gulps. "There's no turning back. I would love to keep you as my dick, if that's what you want."

"Yes, Jake. Let's do this." Skyler's voice is calm and sincere.

Jake nods and turns to the demon who has not moved in the meantime.

"Here we go. Baelnath, you need to change. Remember who you were before. Become Han'labte once more!"

With these words, Jake draws the last of the power out of the sigil stone and lets it gently wash over the red demon form, changing him back into what he has been before as the last of the sun disappears behind the ocean waves.

***

As it turns out, Han'labte is a gentle soul. The spirit of nature was responsible for change, puberty and the male body in his prime before he became corrupted by hell. As such, his natural manifestation was that of a most attractive young man, often sporting a mischievous smile.

He has full memory of the centuries and millenniums of being a demon and feels deeply sorry for everything he has done. Even though he has been what must qualify as one of the nicer demons, he did a lot of evil that now burdens his new-found conscience. He is unable to understand how Jake and Skyler can forgive him.

At first, they let him leave, so they can catch their breath and give themselves some time to think about what is to be done next. It takes some time to travel back to Jake's home and slowly get settled in again. Jake's final body is pretty much the one he started this incredible journey with, with one big difference: His cock is much bigger than what he ever had before that fateful night with the sigil stone. And this piece of cock literally has a mind of his own. His best friend since kindergarten is now Jake's cock, and although their life together takes some getting used to, in the end, both are happy with the outcome. They have gotten to know so much about each other over the course of their adventure that living together in the same body doesn't seem like such a big stretch anymore.

Besides, Skyler still finds it extremely hot to be treated like nothing more than a cock - a fantasy that he can easily live out now. So, there are sometimes even weeks when Jake and Skyler don't speak to each other, and the former uses the latter just like a normal dick: For pissing and jerking off, making sure to do both of them as often as possible for Skyler's enjoyment.

At other times, they combine their minds to overcome life's burdens. Skyler's cleverness and Jake's quick thinking are an unbeatable combo.

One year after their final battle at the beach, all of a sudden, Han'labte appears to visit Jake and Skyler. Although the encounter is awkward for all of them at first, they quickly work out a way to be comfortable around each other again. They become good friends, and, eventually, even more. Jake has taken on the sexual orientation of his dick, making him as gay as they come. There is nothing left of the evils of Baelnath, so it comes only naturally, that Jake and Skyler on the one side and Han'labte fall in love with each other and enter a hot and steamy human-cock-spirit relationship.

Han'labte has recovered enough of his own, spiritual magic to make small adjustments to Jake's body, and together, they explore every possible way to please each other. The only constant in their changing form is Skyler, who always is the cock of Jake - and loves every minute of it.

***

Down, in the seventh hell, Mog'Tol smiles a thin smile. There has been no sign of Baelnath for weeks now, so it is safe to assume that Mog'Tol's intricate plan has worked. If he wants to be modest, there has been a bit of luck involved as well, but really, there was no need for modesty.

With a satisfied sigh, he sits down in his new throne, that Baelnath fashioned out of several changed humans. You can say about Baelnath what you want, but he does have a good taste in architecture. So good, in fact, that Mog'Tol wanted to have his palace of flesh as soon as he first entered it. Of course, for a master mind like Mog'Tol, it hasn't been too hard: Here and there nudging Baelnath, wo really has not been very clever, into the right direction, giving the human mages of the binding circle his true name, it has been an easy setup. The appearance of Jake and Skyler had surprised even him for a moment, but that was nothing what a few visions induced by Mog'Tol couldn't solve.

Yes, there was every reason to be satisfied. The whole palace was rightfully his now, all enough of a reason to congratulate himself.

***

As unlikely as it might have seen, their joint adventure ends with everyone being happy: Mog'Tol, the demon, got his palace, Han'labte his redemption, Jake his freedom, friendship and love, and Skyler, the cock his dream.

And thus, Closer Than Flesh finally comes to an end after ten chapters and 45k words full of demons, cocks and transformations. I hope you liked the story! If you like to have a look at the previous episode, click here. If you, for some reason, want to read it all from the beginning, this is the way!

A big thanks to all of you who enjoy my stories! If you want to support my writing, have a look at my riot page!

[allfortheslay25]

Please tell us your merman au world-building!!!!

I love your art man it’s fucking gorgeous to look at and that comic downright made my day <3 <3

I love talking about my world building so thank you 🙏

I write sirens and mermaids as two different but similar specifies in most of my worlds. Depending on which world ur looking at, these attributes can vary. But let’s look at the one for the AFTF au I made

Sirens are assumed to be evil, flesh eating, inhumane creatures. Most people and merfolk believe them to be unintelligent with just the need to kill

Mermaids are considered beautiful singing seducers who can grant you wishes

Most of this is true. However sirens do sing to lure humans to feast on but it’s only for the need to live and eat. Mermaids drown people for fun.

A sirens diet includes humans, large fish/sea creatures, and sometimes each other or merfolks. Sirens are somewhat naturally bewitching and beautiful. They have natural singing voices and can camouflage, make illusions over their bodies to lure prey, and shapeshift slightly (can change color, size, sex)

Mermaids eat normal sea life like fish, squid’s and even some ocean plant life. They don’t have natural singing voices (some mermaids cannot sing but can imitate the sounds of sea life) they tend to be natural beauties but not in a magically alluring way that sirens are

Sirens tend to be skinny, lean, and small. However not all of them are this way. There are few sirens who can have longer and thicker tails.

Their petiteness is usually to help them swim away fast. Being smaller than most of their prey they need to be able to get away quickly.

Mermaids tend to be thicker, broader, with larger tails. Some mermaids can be small and petite too.

Since they do not have sharp enough teeth or fangs, nature provided their heavy tails to defend themselves and to kill prey. The tails can crack open a head under water within seconds, all it takes is a flick of their tails.

Sirens have retractable claws on their usually bony webbed fingers. They can lengthen at amazing speeds and are used to kill prey

Mermaids have blunter nails since their appearances are very human. Their hands aren’t always webbed, some mermaids have webbed fingers some don’t

Sirens have gills in four sets of places; the neck and ribs. Being deeper sea creatures they require the extra gills to breathe.

Mermaids only have the two sets on their ribs. Mermaid gills close and seal when out of water. Mermaids can breathe above water so once their gills touch the air they seal so their noses can do all the breathing instead

Mermaids have normal human like teeth with slightly sharper canines. Otherwise their teeth are flat, meant to grind plants.

Sirens have at LEAST two rows of teeth. Their teeth are razor sharp and can be jagged like a sharks. Sirens can have up to 4 rows of teeth at max. After the first set, their teeth get smaller in their mouth

Their tongues can be forked, tendrils with suction cups, or just normal human looking.

More facts:

Sirens tend to make their scales sparkle to attract prey.

They mostly live in the dark and their eyes adjust depending on the light around.

Sometimes a Sirens sclera (white of the eyes) turn black. When this happens it heightens their sights to recognize heat signatures instead of images.

Sirens are intersex, born with either male or female reproductive organs. They tend to value reproduction since their species is prone to dying so easily.

Sirens can be clingy when they have children. They value being with their children more than hunting and will prioritize their young over anything. Sirens rely on a mate at this time to do all the hunting so they can stay with their child

When a siren reaches a certain age their mothers (not only female presenting) lose interest and abandon them

Sirens don’t always form pods and are usually solitary creatures. Pods are either formed by family, mates, or the strong

Mermaids are lazy. They spend all their time grooming themselves, playing, and sunbathing

They care too much about their looks

A mermaids tail can be decorated/decorative which a mermaid takes pride in. They use them to attract mates. A mermaid will beat a big sea creature to death to prove their hunting skills and groom their tail to show their allure

Mermaids mate for life. Sirens do not. They also don’t breed as often as sirens since they don’t die as easily

Mermaids mostly form pods. They value strength in numbers. There is a hierarchy system in their pods (sirens do not have a hierarchy system but they can if they choose to do so)

Mermaids are social creatures

Mermaids can mimic the voices of humans. Sometimes they mimic the voices of sailors loved ones so they can drown them. It’s like a game. Mermaids love games

Mermaids can partially control the ocean; create whirlpools and summon sea creatures. Some powerful mermaids can summon storms and cause tsunamis but it’s rare

Mermaids tend to be attracted to shiny things

If there are any follow up questions I’d love to answer !!!

[jaynemia]

"Your Dream"

Armin Arlert x gen-neutral!reader

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❥┆Angst + fluff I think idk honestly

❥┆WC: 3228

❥┆Notes: This is kinda modern AU and also inspired by "Curtain Call" by Hitomi (An eruri fan thingy ahaha..anyway) Apologies for mistakes and such ++ Slight spoilers

══════

“And that’s my dream!” Armin beams as he closes his precious book about the outside world.

“To see the ocean?”

He excitedly nods his head, “me, Eren, and Mikasa are gonna do it. And, well- I thought that.. maybe you’d wanna join too?

You scoff at his invitation and wave your hand dismissively. “That’s impossible in these walls. Plus, it’s a boring idea. The only time we’d be able to see the ocean is if we're about to die as soldiers.”

The blonde boy sighs and looks down, clearly hurt by your indifference. “Oh. I dunno.. I just want you there with me when I do. I won’t give up.”

Regrettably, he didn’t give up. You wish he had.

Your eyes soften upon seeing the sadness in his expression. “I mean, who knows? Maybe we can.”

══════

“Armin-!”

You come crashing down from a sudden gust of steam during a deadly battle with the Colossal Titan. Just before you could figure out where you landed, your eyes shot open from an aching pain. You wince, look down, and get overcome with a wave of despair when you see a large metal rod piercing your flesh. You try to move, but you’re bound to the rubble that sits under you.

“Hel-”

Your pleas are left unheard as the only sound you can produce are coughs of blood and labored breaths. The impact of your fall caused severe damage to your ribs and lungs, leading to internal bleeding. It hurt to even think, but thinking was all you could do.

“Armin was with me when I crashed, did he fall too? He’s here somewhere..!”

Regardless of the blood staining your clothes and running down your mouth, you had more important priorities.

“I need to find him. He’s here, he’s not dead. I’ll save him.”

But you couldn’t.

The only thing you could do was lay there helplessly and feel your life draining away. The sky blurred, then cleared when you forced yourself to wake up, and then blurred again. An endless cycle of pain tormented you for what seemed like hours. No one was around to save you.

As the sun begins to hide behind the buildings in front of you, you hear a muffled, yet familiar voice. You could barely make it out, but you assumed a conversation was being held near you. There was a shriek of anguish from a woman that echoed through your ears, followed by another woman talking.

“Mikasa-! You — to know ———!”

“Mikasa? Mikasa was near?” You thought, but whoever was near, their words were fading in and out of your ears.

“— Armin could do that, too..!”

Your eyes weakly flutter open and you begin to cry even more than you already had. Armin was alive? You smiled weakly and got overcome with hope that maybe his injuries weren’t as bad as yours. Maybe he wasn’t injured at all!

“But — doesn’t have Erwin’s experience ————”

Erwin?

Your hopes begin to diminish when you hear Mikasa plead with them to save Armin. It sounded like they were either going to choose to save the Commander, Erwin, or your best friend. Why not both? What the hell was happening?

No matter how much anyone pleads, whether that was Mikasa, Eren, or even you, everyone knows saving Erwin would be the best choice. Armin had no chance. Your tears continue to fall and mix with the blood on your body. There was no time to grieve, so you forced yourself into acceptance. You were at least glad that you were to die the same day he would have.

“I’m sorry I was so mean,” you thought hopelessly, “I’m sorry I was so angry all the time. I’ll be nicer, I promise. Let’s go see the ocean. I’ve loved you forever, that’s why I never forgot about your dream.”

But you can’t talk, so he never heard.

══════

BEEP BEEP BEEP BE-

Your hand flies to your phone as you sluggishly press the “stop” button and begin to get ready for work. Unfortunately for you, your chosen line of work was not as interesting as you would have hoped as a child. When you settled for being a librarian at a public library, you quickly got comfortable with the satisfying pay, but wished for something a little more engaging. You’re grateful for the well-paying job, nevertheless.

After cooking up some breakfast, you head over to the library. The air was nice when you walked out; the yellow color of the sun seemed to comfort you more than anything else.

Luckily for you, the library was only a walking distance away and you quickly got to work tidying things up and making sure all the computers were ready for use. Without delay, you flip over the “we’re open” sign in front of the door and wait for people to come by.

One by one, people of all ages visit and find solidarity in the peaceful place. Although some annoying people regularly visit now and then, the job was pretty nice. Still, you find yourself wishing that you could at least switch occupations just for one day at least. Most of your friends had much more exhilarating jobs, such as a bartender, a firefighter, a policeman, an anesthesiologist, and a vet.

“Me? As a policeman?”

You begin to daydream of all the exciting missions you’d be assigned to if you had these kinds of careers. For a firefighter, you’d have to save people. As a police officer, you could hunt bad people down. As you continue to think, another idea slips into your mind, “what about a soldier?” Weirdly, you shiver a little and shake your head. “Who’d willingly wanna be a soldier?”

“Uhm- excuse me..” You hear a timid voice call out; it was so quiet but loud enough to snap you back into reality.

“Oh! Sorry, did you need somethin-”

Your eyebrows raise a bit at the sight of the young man in front of you. He was a pale, nice-looking blonde boy who looked not too far from your age. On top of that, his face looked extremely horrified. It confused you, to say the least. As he hands you his library card, you notice his hand shaking.

“Sir? Are you okay?” You suddenly ask, making him jolt slightly and almost drop the books in his hand. Soon after, his horrified expression slowly dropped into a slightly sad one.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

You nod in understanding, giving him a friendly smile as you scan his card. “Armin Arlert,” it said. What a pretty name.

As you look back up and hand him his card, he stares into your eyes as if he was expecting his card to be denied like he was paying for groceries. There was a strange glimmer of a random hope behind his gaze, but when you simply handed it back, he quickly looked down and shoved it back in his wallet.

“I’ve never seen you before. Is this your first time visiting?” You ask, trying to make small talk with the nervous man.

He sighs, “yeah, this is my first time. I needed some new copies of this history book since the school I worked at ran out.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you’re a teacher?”

Armin, you assumed his name was, nodded and returned a smile. “Yes! Uh, Shiganshina High School. Have you heard of it?”

You conveniently have been quite familiar with it as it’s fairly close to your house. “Yeah, it’s not that far from where I live. That’s cool, you being a teacher and all, Mr. Arlert.”

“Ahahaha! Ahaah- ah..” He seemingly switches back to his anxious state and laughs a bit loudly. “Please, just call me Armin.”

After nodding slowly, you respond with a softer tone. “Alright, Armin.”

Armin closes his eyes and sighs once more. “Okay, well, I-I should head back. Sorry for taking up your time.”

“Oh no, that’s alright. You didn’t at all.” You respond, trying to reassure him as best you can. After he looks at you one last time, you watch him walk out the door as a weird sense of loneliness overtakes you. What an interesting guy.

══════

Day after day, your usual routine quickly got interrupted by the same stranger you met that very day. Armin came in at the same time and constantly checked out and returned books not even a day after borrowing them. He claimed they were for students since their school’s library was being “renovated,” but its renovation had been ongoing for two months now.

“Morning,” he greets you while walking in with one book and hands it to you as usual. His nervousness seemed to fade slowly day by day, hinted by his more confident, albeit still quiet tone.

“G’morning to you.” You smile and take his book. When you look down, you smile again at his choice of reading. It was a large book about geography, not just maps, but the history that lies within the lats and longs of the pages.

“Do you, I mean, do the kids really like this stuff?”

Upon hearing your first words, he clears his throat and nods. “Well, yes, they’re very interested in.. human geography.”

“I’m sure,” you say in between a snicker.

Armin chuckles softly as he grabs a random book off your counter, that being just a magazine, and hands it to you. When you take the magazine, he fiddles with his fingers and looks down. Naturally, you could easily notice that he wanted to ask something, or at the very least, talk. So you talk first.

“Something on your mind? I can read you like a book now. Pun intended.”

He immediately shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck. “No, well.. yes.”

After letting a shaky sigh slip through his lips, he begins, “I was wondering if- ah- you’d wanna.. go to my house for some coffee?”

Your brows raise at his sudden invitation. He was pretty cute after all, but you’ve only known this guy for two months.

Hesitantly, you give him a soft smile and decline. “Sorry, I’d like to, but I don’t go to anyone's house on first dates. You understand, right?”

Armin’s face flushes a bit and he waves his hands defensively. “D-Date? No, I mean- yes, I understand.”

You shrug, “maybe a coffee shop?”

His face falls into a more disappointed one. “I need somewhere that’s secluded. Well, I’m not gonna do anything,” he chuckles nervously, “look, I just need to talk to you. It’s been on my mind since the day we met.”

Suddenly, your interest peaks. There was something about this man’s urgency that made you trust him. Maybe you were crazy.

Soon, you think of another suggestion. “How about the school you work at? There are probably some empty classrooms there, right? Or maybe we can use yours when the kids are on break?”

Armin’s face lights up and he nods excitedly. “Yes! That’s perfect! Today, then?”

“Today?”

You think for a moment, then decide to just call and ask one of your coworkers to take your shift. His enthusiasm was rubbing off on you.

“Fine, let’s go.”

══════

As you step out of his car and into the building, you look around and laugh a little at the commotion of the high school students.

“Shiganshina, Shiganshina, where have I heard that before?” You mutter while walking beside Armin who’s leading you to his classroom. He noticeably clenches his fist upon hearing your words and opens a door. As you enter, you stare in awe at how cozy it looks. The interior is full of soft string lights and funny posters with motivational text on them. Definitely fits his aesthetic.

“So, uh..” He pulls a chair beside his desk and motions you over. You take a seat and watch him sit in his chair, incredibly nervous as he looks down. “I don’t know how to word this, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say soothingly, “take your time.”

“Basically… I used to know you. Like, in another universe, I think?”

You tilt your head, completely confused. The air around you seemed to grow dense. “What..?”

“I’m not crazy, please let me explain.”

Armin begins to explain to you in detail what this previous life was like. He recites every small memory he held on to that you both shared like when you protected him from bullies and shared your food with him. He also told you the bad memories he had, like watching all his friends die in battle, and how you both were soldiers who served and protected the people from “titans.” He listed a bunch of names, claiming them to be your friends too, like “Mikasa, Eren, Sasha, Connie,” none of whom you’ve ever heard of. By the end of his rant, he seemed to be tearing up after hesitating for a bit.

“And then.. we fought the Colossal Titan. I don’t remember how it happened, but you..” He suddenly leans forward a bit and holds his mouth like he was about to throw up.

“Jesus!” You hold his shoulders tight as you begin to rub them in hopes of calming him down. “It’s alright…”

Armin’s soft sniffles echo through your ears and you furrow your eyebrows. “And then..!” He cries out, “we found you..! Dead on the ground, impaled, and dirtied with your own blood!”

You felt yourself getting colder as he told you this “memory;” this sight he had to bear witness to. When you look down at your palms, you imagine what they would look like with blood soaked in each crevice of your skin. You cringe.

Even though you were skeptical this whole time, that feeling slowly began to fade as he shared with you one of the most traumatic experiences he’s had. It felt like you’ve dreamt about it before, or like it was deja vu.

“How..” you speak up as quietly as possible, “how do you know that it was me? What if I just look like the person you’ve- uh, met before?”

Armin looks up at you with tears staining his eyes. He speaks in between sobs and grabs your shoulders. “I can’t forget your face! How could I? After that, I died a natural death, waiting every second for you, even though you died so many years before me. For so many years I wished it were me. That’s something I could never forget.”

You slowly shake your head. “I don’t understand..”

He shakes you a bit and the desperation in his tone makes your blood run cold.

“You feel it too, don’t you?! I’ve seen your face when I mention these things! I know you’ve seen me before! You’ve heard of Shiganshina before, right?! That’s where I was born! That’s where you were born, too!”

Your face softens and you hug him while he continues to choke on his tears. “It’s okay now, shh. I remember.”

He seemed to have calmed down by your comfort, but your words were just a lie. You tried and tried to think, but guilt overwhelmed you when you simply couldn’t recall anything he was talking about. However, he just seemed too emotional to be lying and too adamant about this to be insane.

You pull away and give him a bittersweet smile. “Crazy ‘first date’ huh? A classroom wasn’t really somewhere I’ve dreamed of going to, but it’s alright.”

Armin giggles at your lighthearted joke and nods while wiping his tears. “I-I don’t think it’s that bad, but yeah, I’d have picked something different.”

“Oh? Where would you go for a first date then?”

He grins eagerly and sits up. “The beach!”

You raise an eyebrow at his words and scoff. “The beach? What a boring idea.”

Boring?

A sudden cold chill ran down your spine as you slowly started feeling your head ache. “That was mean, why’d I say that?” You thought.

When you look up, you're met with Armin’s hopeful eyes. “Yeah, you said that before, too. Something like it anyway.”

After nodding your head and rubbing your temples, you begin to think rapidly. “The beach, the beach,” you thought over and over again. It never posed any significance to you, but something weird overcame you as you subconsciously rubbed your side.

“You know what,” you say as you click your tongue, “I need to get home anyway, ya’know, to run some errands.”

Armin checks his watch and gets up to lead you to the door. “Ah, my class is starting in a few minutes anyway, good timing!”

After you wave goodbye, he pulls you into an unexpected embrace. You feel your cheeks heat up as you pat his back and return the hug. “Goodbye, Armin.”

“Goodbye.”

As you walk out and head home for the day, you force yourself to shake off that strange feeling welling up in your body and mind. There was no use in dwelling on it and trying to make sense of this entire situation. Plus, Armin’s recollections just sounded so bizarre. At the end of the day, he was most likely just a crazy man who lost someone who looked like you and didn’t know how to grieve. That’s probably it.

When you finally find yourself comfortable enough to sleep, you let your mind drift as your limbs slowly relax.

══════

“Why are you always so mean?”

You look up and see your best friend pouting in the seat in front of you while you both eat inside the dining quarters. As you take another bite of the small loaf of bread in your hand, you wave dismissively at him.

“I’m not, Armin. I’m just honest.” You shrug.

Armin sighs and shakes his head, “Eren says he wants to go, too. Why can’t you be nice like him?”

You put a hand over your chest, feigning offense. “Me? Not nice? Come on, all I said was that silly dream of yours was boring. And Eren can suck it.”

He grumbles and looks down, playing with the soup in his bowl. “You’re never gonna change that opinion, huh?”

After pondering for a moment and jokingly putting your finger to your chin, you answer bluntly. “Nope!”

Armin glances up at you and his lip quivers slightly. Soon after a few seconds of awkward silence, he speaks up again; this time in a much more quiet tone.

“I know.”

══════

There was a sudden sensation that you couldn't seem to grasp or explain. All you could see was a white flash, and when you opened your eyes, you were met with your dark room in the middle of the night. You gasp after realizing you hadn’t been breathing the entire time following your abrupt awakening, and you just clasp your shirt.

A dream? What kind of dream was that?

Thoughts and possible solutions spread through your mind like wildfire. The soup, the bread, the table, your clothes.. what did it mean? Where did you get all these seemingly specific thoughts? You thought long and hard, trying to figure out what kind of TV show or video you watched to dream about something like this, but to no avail, nothing came close to whatever it was you dreamt about.

When you begin to remember the face of the boy you saw in that dream, you slowly hold your hand up to your mouth.

“Oh, shit.”

══════

❥┆End notes: hey so funny thing this is actually NOT finished and idk if im gonna finish it 😎😎

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for giving up everything, including my sanity and moral compass, in a desperate bid to save my daughter?

…I loved her more than anything.

Sorry. I know you probably don’t want to hear about it, but I want to make that much very clear. I have to, for my own sake. I want everyone to know, and so I will reiterate:

My daughter was my world. I can hardly put into words how much I cared about her, at least once upon a time.

She was a happy accident— she hadn’t been planned. I was young, or at least felt young at the time when her mother showed up on my doorstep. We weren’t in a committed relationship. I was a ‘player’ of sorts. I hadn’t intended to impregnate her, but then there we were.

She held her arms and told me what happened. She asked me what I wanted to do. She said she didn’t really want to keep her, and was thinking of adopting her out, but wanted to know what I thought.

I was stunned. I wasn’t ready. I was keen to get rid of her too. But then my baby girl— my daughter reached out a hand and grabbed my finger. And it was as if my whole world shifted.

I realized she was so small. And so incredibly alone. And MINE. I realized if I didn’t protect her, then no one would. That she was my duty.

I told her mother I’d keep her. I became a single father. It was frightening, but I was sure of it. For my daughter, I’d do anything.

And life was good, for a time. We were happy. But then, everything changed. I ruined it.

You see, I was a businessman and mechanic by trade. I had a moderately successful company producing technology. And one day, I stumbled upon the blueprints for a machine that would change EVERYTHING.

It was a wish granting computer… said to be able to make any dream come true. I was ecstatic. Not only would this surely help my company, but it would help ensure my daughter had a bright future. I decided I’d build it— make her life prosperous, and make all of her wishes reality. We even worked on it together.

It was our project. Our collective dream. We poured our hearts into that machine.

But it went wrong. It had to, didn’t it? There’s no such thing as a true miracle. Partway through building the machine, I…

I lost her.

Something malfunctioned. A portal opened up. Maybe I shouldn’t have allowed her to be near the computer— I don’t know, but either way, it stole her away. My daughter… the light of my life was swallowed by the portal. She screamed for help, and then…

The portal closed. She was gone.

My daughter was dead, and it was my fault.

I was inconsolable. I promised I’d hang the stars in the sky for her, only to to allow her to be murdered at only seven. In one terrible moment, my entire world came crashing down.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. But then it hit me, I realized.

…My wish granting machine— the same machine that had damned me— it was now my only hope.

If I completed it… if I were to make my dreams come true, then surely I could bring my daughter back to life.

Of course, it couldn’t function as was. I tried to make my wish, and it told me it was ‘impossible.’ But I didn’t give up. I just needed more resources. More time.

Did you know every planet has the power of the stars contained somewhere within it? A miraculous energy… that which my wish granting machine ran on. I harvested this power from my own planet, but it wasn’t enough.

I needed more.

I traveled to other planets, taking this power by force, if necessary. I constructed a grand spaceship, and my machine and I conquered.

But the grief in my heart hadn’t eased. I was beginning to feel delirious. I started suffering from severe health complications. I well and truly thought I was going to die. But I couldn’t allow that to happen before I saw my daughter again, and so I made another decision.

…The machine. I’d use its powers to transcend my mortal flesh. I replaced my faulty heart with a cybernetic one. My ailing limbs with machinery, and my weeping eyes with LEDs. That way, I would never die. My daughter wouldn’t recognize me upon her return, but that was okay.

It was all for her.

Slowly, I began to lose it, though. Something terrible was happening to me. I was more standoffish… edgy and angry, and even worse, my memory began to go. I began to forget things that were important to me.

…Even my daughter’s face.

I think, in some way, I was aware of it. I was aware it was that accursed machine. It was eating away at my brain every time I used it. But it didn’t matter. I still had to save her. And so I surrendered myself— gave my mind up, all in a desperate bid to MAYBE find a way to bring her home before I lost myself entirely.

I did not. I forgot my daughter— my precious child— the one who this was all for, and my priorities shifted.

Prosperity. That’s what I realized I wanted. Prosperity. For myself and the people cared about. But people were far too foolish to attain prosperity on their own. If I wanted prosperity to be treated with respect, then I would have to take it for myself. No-one else understood the correct way to live.

We invaded more planets— me and my precious machine. We did so with even more force. We stole their natural resources for ourselves, and as for the people who lived there…?

We improved them. We gave them the same upgrades I’d been given. It was the only way to live an efficient life, and so even if they didn’t want to, we mechanized them. We mechanized entire planets, spreading our agenda of prosperity all across the universe, and becoming incomprehensibly rich in the process.

It was… maybe eleven years into this when I met a peculiar person. She was young— couldn’t have been older than 18. She begged me for a job— said that she NEEDED to work for my company.

She had no credentials, but I felt… drawn to her, anyways. Her diligent demeanor and her strange sad eyes. I offered her a position as my secretary, and she agreed.

She, like everyone else, was mechanized, and she begun work at my company.

We didn’t always get along… me and this person, who I’ll call ‘S.’ I’d shout at her. I wasn’t an easy boss. I was mean-spirited and demanding. But even so, I was still kinder to her than I was to others, I think. She brought me a certain sense of peace.

…On quiet days, she’d sing me songs.

I trusted S, or at least as much as I could trust anyone. And so one day, when it came to us mechanizing a particularly important planet, I put her in charge of the operation. She’d shown she was competent, and I trusted her to do what needed to be done.

…She failed. Spectacularly. At every step of the operation, she messed it up. A rebel from that planet resisted our company’s takeover— destroying our spaceship and eventually making his way to my headquarters. S tried to stop him, but failed time and time again.

He waltzed right into my office.

She tried, one last time, to seize him… to make up for her mistakes and make me proud, but she was unable. He was too strong. He outright humiliated her.

I was… enraged. I’d trusted S with so much, and she’d let me down. I terminated her from her position right then and there— even though she begged me for mercy— even though she said she needed ‘just one more chance.’

I didn’t listen. I never listened to S.

I should have.

(I’m sorry. I’m so, SO sorry.)

I, too, was beaten by the rebel. But I had one last trick up my sleeve. I attempted to connect with the computer— my greatest accomplishment and my last hope. And S…

She stole it. That which I was using to sync with the computer, right as it was attached to my brain.

All at once, two things happened.

First of all, I lost control. I could feel the computer’s presence creeping up on me. I knew soon I’d be dead— TRULY dead as it reformatted me. S had killed me, whether she meant to or not.

But second of all…

For just a brief moment, I remembered. I remembered EVERYTHING.

And as I stared at S, dying… completely unable to move, I came to a horrible realization.

I knew her. Even looking at me with such hateful eyes. Even having changed her beyond recognition

I had met S before, a very, very long time ago. I’d forgotten it, but she was the one I did all of this for.

…She was my daughter. She’d been by my side all this time, and she’d murdered me.

The last thing I was able to process was just how angry she looked. Just how scared and small. She… well and truly despised me.

And really, I can’t blame her.

I’m in a better place now. My spirit was almost destroyed entirely by that which took everything else from me, but even a wish granting computer can’t defeat Death. Eventually, painstakingly, my soul was knit back together.

But I am not at peace. I am anything but. I can’t get her expression out of my mind… just how much she resented me.

Now, I know the full story. My daughter never died. Instead, she spent 11 horrible years trapped in a nightmare dimension. My computer could not bring her back because she was not gone… not truly. She was fighting for her life.

Eventually, she returned to me. She became the person I knew as ‘S.’ But by then, I had already forgotten her, and she was inconsolable. She vowed she’d find a way to save me… to ‘wake me up’ and have me remember.

She tried. She really, really tried. But I was beyond saving. And I guess when I tried to fire her… something snapped. Perhaps she thought maybe— just maybe if she were to get rid of the computer, she could change fate.

…She did not. I am gone now, and her efforts were all for naught.

I know, realistically, I am the bad guy in this story. I committed countless atrocities in the name of seeking salvation. I conquered planets. I mechanized strangers. I even mechanized she who was most dear to me.

But I didn’t mean to… I never meant to—

I just wanted to see her. One last time. I knew the fate it would condemn me to, but I did not care. Was that really so selfish? All we wanted was to rescue one another, and in doing so, we damned ourselves.

…AITA? For trying to save my daughter, and in doing so, perhaps condemning her to the worst fate of all?

[bettyfrommars]

The blurb game is so fun! I love a twist of fate 🤩

I’m gonna go for E2, &, 💚

big money no whammies!

(big money is gargoyle eddie 😏)

SARAH no gargoyle for you BUT you did get a very special one and I really hope you enjoy darling

your Person is nightmare!Eddie

your Place is Dealer's Choice, so I'm giving you Abandoned Building

your Thing is a Blanket

word count: 1.2k

18+ONLY, smut, unprotected piv, oral, afab!Reader, allusions to gore and violence, zombies, terror, being on the run, a bit of hurt no comfort but you know these two always find each other. As always, this was written fast and posted without obsessing too much, so let's hope it's not too much of a mess.

pick your poison

Careful footsteps made their way along the aisles of what was once a thriving supermarket, eager hands pawing through the leftover wreckage. The shelves had been mostly emptied by scavengers months ago, yet you'd been able to find a couple cans of ravioli and one coveted can of spaghettiO's. Spotting a tin of spray cheese and a liter of warm soda put a smile on Eddie's face so bright it rivaled the sun. He was giddy, his heart was bursting, and even though the world was being overrun by flesh eating zombies, he had you and processed dairy, and that was bliss.

Weapons out, you had to make sure the area was clear and secure before you could indulge in any feasting. Paying extra caution to the backrooms and every dark corner where something worse than zombies could be hiding---other survivors who might try to slit your throats for a little Chef Boyardee.

In a small room with office supplies strewn everywhere, and a door with a lock, you hunkered down, unrolling the blankets from your knapsacks to curl up together on the carpeted floor. A nap was necessary, but you had to keep moving, to make it further south and find shelter before the winter freeze.

Eddie was between your legs then, sweaty foreheads pinned together while he sank his length in, shivering with pleasure.

"Nothing has ever felt this good," he whispered.

You sealed his mouth with yours, whimpering when he eased it deeper. You were dripping wet from the way his tongue had pulled an orgasm out of you only moments before, his chin still coated in your release.

"You make me feel real," he sat up to look down at where you were joined, wishing he could see more than what the light from two votive candles and a flashlight afforded.

You weren't paying attention to the sound of footsteps shuffling outside, you were too caught up in the emotions that welled up in his eyes. He found your hand and intertwined his fingers, lowering his chest to yours while he snapped his hips. The soft mews in his throat told you that he was already close, and you urged him on with your heels digging into his thighs.

He paused when he was as deep as he could get and kissed down your throat, breathless with desire.

"Why did you stop?" You throbbed around him, yearning for the same feverish pace.

"I don't want it to end," he hung his head in a way that felt like defeat. "I don't want to lose you."

You'd been on the road for god knows how long at that point, hot wiring cars to get you as far the gas tank would, and then finding another. The two days before the supermarket had been on foot, bathing down at the river, hiding from a horde as it stumbled gracelessly through the forest.

With your free hand, you brushed the loose hair under his bandana away from his face. "Hey, look at me. I'm not going anywhere without you, it's you and me, forever."

"Or until you decided to go all Praying Mantis on me."

"Yes, forever will end on that day."

You thought you knew the town and the state you were in, but just then it escaped you. Indiana, maybe? Kansas?

For a second, in the flickering candlelight, you swore Eddie had horns and glowing red eyes, but then he was making love to you again and you forgot to care. He babbled your name as he came, shuddering until he collapsed.

Outside, something knocked against the door, making you jump, eyes darting over his shoulder. It wasn't the knock of someone wanting in, it was more of a scratching noise, like something being dragged across it.

Reluctantly, Eddie rolled off of you, pulling his jeans up to button them as he went. "Fuck, I knew this was too good to be true," he mumbled. "I found a place that was off the grid where they wouldn't think to look, and it worked for a little while."

He kept talking, making familiar sounds, but the words made no sense, as if spoken in a foreign language. You adjusted your own clothing and reached for the handle of your machete, horrified at the sight of the doorknob twisting back and forth. Someone or something wanted in.

"Just give us a minute, okay? Jesus." Eddie got to his feet, clearly annoyed.

"Eddie, shhhh!" You backed up against the wall, heart racing. "Maybe they don't know we're in here."

The doorknob stopped moving.

You were in the middle of a long-held breath when the unplugged rotary dial phone in the middle of the room rang. Eddie swooped to pick it up before it could make the shrill noise again.

He had his back to you when he smacked the receiver to his head.

You could hear someone shouting at the other end, loud enough to blow his eardrum out, but couldn't decipher what they were saying.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered to whoever it was. "What can I tell you? I got lost. Terry's directions are shit."

Weapon in hand, you slowly got to your feet. His words maintained the form of a curious jumble while your attention locked unwavering at the door.

He bent down to click the receiver onto the cradle when he was done. "I'm sorry about this, sweetheart," he said earnestly, taking a deep breath. "I'll find you again, I promise."

That time, you understood him, but you also did not understand. Not at all.

"What are you sorry for?" Your voice wavered at the way the shadows seemed to form shapes and slink along the walls. The air was suddenly thick and stale, as if the walls were closing in.

"For this."

When he turned, he was a nightmare. Rotten flesh dripping from his bones, lips pulled back in a skeleton sneer, eyes a dead, milk white. A hungry growl escaped from deep in his chest, and he reached both hands out, gnarled fingers clawing at nothing, only a few steps away from grabbing you.

You let out a terrified scream, and Eddie hated to hear it, but it was only for a moment before the invisible hatch in the floor opened and you tumbled through the infinity hole to your bed.

Once you were gone, his shoulders slumped, and that lonely vice gripped his heart once again. He stood in the same spot for a while, staring at the nest of blankets where you had once been. "I'd choose to live in a zombie apocalypse if I knew it meant we could be together" you'd said that to him once.

He was tired of this life; he was tired of losing you. What type of fucked up universe would let the two of you find each other only to make it so that you could never really be together?

"It's so fucked up," he whispered, agreeing with himself.

From the other side of the door, a woman's voice proceeded with caution. "You alright in there, Eddie?"

"Yeah," he lied. "Tell Kevin I'm taking a vacation day tomorrow."

[scorpiomother]

MOON RIVER (one shot)

･ﾟ★ . when i was led to you, i knew you were the one for me. i swear the whole world could feel my heartbeat

summary: the moon is bright and so is your love for your boyfriend

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: explicit content. minors dni (+18) insomnia. cigarette usage. fluffy smut aka swag (sex w andrew garfield xx) 

a/n: in honor of february and hump day... heheh xoxo 

curated vibes: kiss of life ☆ moon river

masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 read on ao3 𓆩♡𓆪  kofi

MOON RIVER

The terrain on his back was something you adored greatly. The divots and curves of the flesh, the muscles taut with silver like the winter moon cascading down on the hills of your love. The fibers were like yarn connecting stars to one another, his joints blossoming with the shimmering matter. It was silly, really. The way that you wished to be one of his favorite shirts or a backpack so that you could kiss his spine for the rest of your inanimate life.

The moonlight had no regard for your heart, the shimmering cast making his back visible in the dead of night. It was your only weakness, his herculean build that made him look like a Grecian sculpture, and with the light reflecting off of him, he truly did look like he was made out of Parian marble.

You felt at peace like this. Propped up on an elbow, tenderly scratching Peter’s back as a soft breeze entered the apartment. There was nothing but the sounds of his hums and the spinning of the ceiling fan. It felt like everyone in the city was asleep, but you.

At first, you couldn’t go back to sleep after using the bathroom. It was a common occurrence for you, the slow game of waiting for sleep to overcome you. But when your boyfriend looked like that, it kept you from trying, your thoughts racking with the white noise of adoration.

You dragged your nails against his shoulder blade before deciding to comb throw his thick, messy hair. You didn’t mean to wake him up, but when you see his eyes flicker open, your heart throbbed with delight.

“I dreamt of you,” he said, his voice tired with grit.

“What was it about?”

“Forget already. I just remember your pretty face.”

“You’re silly,” you stated.

“No, I’m in love.” 

“And silly.”

There’s a precious smile that he gives you, one that warms up your chest. He reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a delicate kiss to your knuckle.

For a moment you forget about the exhaustion embedded in your skin and all that occurs to you is how much you adore Peter. It’s like he erased all of your ailments and bad thoughts.

Your restlessness was something you originally categorized as a curse, but as you walked the streets of New York at two in the morning all those months ago, it suddenly turned into a blessing. There he was, a boy from Queens also cursed with the same fate as you. It started with sharing a cigarette on a bench, a block away from your apartment. You recall the way the moon was a lop-sided smile, one that said it was pleased with this encounter. It ended with you confessing your kleptomaniac phase as an adolescent and him admitting that he provokes fights just to feel something. His split bottom lip was a testament to that.

You don’t remember leaving because, in truth, you remember specifically thinking, I never want to leave. But eventually, you were in bed, thinking about the kind stranger as Apollo reeled in the morning sun. It was like you were whisked away by your very own feet, sleepwalking suddenly another problem you had been subjected to.

The night after you walked to the bench and didn’t go there with hopes of seeing him again, but rather reminisce on what a lovely time you had with him. Though you presumed a part of yourself truly did hope he would be there again but to preserve your hopes, you convinced yourself to be pragmatic.

Yet, when you saw him again, a wave of warmth and giddiness washed over you.

He gave you a cigarette upon your arrival and was gentleman enough to light it for you— one of the most intimate things you have experienced in your life. Then the confessions would bundle you two up like the blanket of smoke. It was like a sacred ritual between you two, the tobacco the partition that made it possible for the secrets to come undone.

What keeps you awake? He wondered.

Runs in the family. How about you?

Grief. The words came out in a puff of smoke, grey and bleak.

Does it hurt? You asked.

It’s like a splinter that you can’t get rid of. Always there and always aching.

The way he was able to be candid with you, sugarcoating nothing but his honey-glazed eyes, stuck with you whether his honesty stemmed from your relationship as strangers or he deemed you worthy. 

After eleven consecutive days of your unplanned therapy sessions, it was decided you would take your nightly affair to broad daylight. It made you feel nervous. You didn’t realize it, but the night brought you an unexpected comfort and without the inky veil of the night, you weren’t sure if he would like you still.

Though, the anxiety was soon after replaced with suffocation. You weren’t sure if Peter was in the right mind as the blistering June heat fermented on your back as you sat in Central Park with your sandwiches from Katz’s. If it had been up to you, your platonic date would have been scheduled for a bookstore with AC, but you assumed that his poor scheduling was due to the lack of sleep. I didn’t realize it was going to be so hot, he said, swiping the sweat on his forehead. The night spoils us too much, you replied, after taking a sip of orange soda. 

Luckily, he liked you enough to earn you the title of friend. Graduating from stranger to friend was an easy feat in comparison to the long six months of pining over him.

He had caressed the underbelly of your heart and bewitched you. You would wake up as weary as always and prepare your breakfast without the slightest satisfaction when you had craved a spoonful of his love, but instead runny eggs on stale bread coated your throat.

You were infatuated, but you knew him well enough that it would be best to stay friends and swallow down your feelings. But when you were over at his place watching Fantastic Mr. Fox a day before Christmas Eve and he pressed a kiss to your cheekbone when you had closed your eyes for a minute too long, you confessed. Because that’s what you two did. A confession for a confession.  A truth for a truth.

You kissed me, you whispered with closed eyes, afraid that if you opened them, everything would reveal to be a dream.

He didn’t respond for a minute. You thought that maybe he didn’t hear you but eventually, his handsome voice invaded your senses. I thought you were asleep.

We don’t sleep.

How about I pretend you’re asleep, and I kiss you again? Is that okay? 

I like that idea, you said past the beating heart that sat in your throat.

A week later, it was New Year’s and you kissed the new year hello as boyfriend and girlfriend. Wait until my therapist hears about this, he laughed in your neck. It was a holiday miracle. Finally, after all these truths on the table and he was yours.

Well, most of them.

All that he had asked of you was to trust him. When he gets home at three in the morning and he has no explanation, you choose to trust him despite the bile in your throat, and when the lacerations on his body were so deep that blood pooled at your feet, you bathed his body in silence after he demanded you to not call medical help. If this is going to work, you need to trust me, he said with pleading eyes.

He was everything you wanted, your thoughts consumed with him for the past half a year. How could you say no to the man of your dreams?

So you let the love overweigh the worry and let the anxieties flush out with each bloodied kiss, and persuaded yourself that men with therapists can’t be so bad. 

Besides that, everything was sunshine and daisies. Your patience bore the sweetest of fruit each and every day, him proving himself with the most tender acts. His pretty face and loving hands were enough to swoon over, and his tender disposition and patient temperament were enough to ruin you. Now, you’re still as sleepless as you were back then, but this time you had someone to be sleepless with. 

You hopelessly gazed into Peter’s eyes, counting each star in his midnight eyes. At number four, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and at five, he was holding your hand.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked, stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“For a while.”

“I’m sorry I left you alone.”

“You didn’t. I like watching you sleep,” you assured him with a squeeze of your hand.

You took a second to memorize his face. Let it stain your sight. A pleased grin was plastered on his smug face, tugging at your heartstrings. You were completely enraptured by him and when he looked at you with those big warm eyes, it felt like he held you in the same regard.

A yawn came over you causing your eyes to swell. When the tears of exhaustion trickled down they didn’t burn. It bloomed and broke easily, trailing along your cheek like subtle fingers on a bare back. It was chilling.

“Pretty girl, what’s wrong?” His voice was like a sip of whisky, trickling through you, each drop sizzling in your belly. 

“Just sleepy,” you said.

“C’mere.”

Peter turned on his side and opened his arms to spoon you. He cocooned you like a chrysalis does to a caterpillar. His slender, yet strong arms took a hold of you and his chest felt like shelter. Peter made you feel born again, his touch transforming you into love personified.

His hand found a home on your hip. His grasp was tender, taking it upon himself to squeeze and knead the soft tissue. He began to shower you with kisses like ornaments on a Christmas tree. Shiny and bright and all too much, but in the most perfect way.

Peter’s fingers trailed along your outer thigh, baring mercy in his barely-there touch. The gentleness of it made you shiver with need. 

Desire spread across each nerve in your body, begging to be touched by Peter and his calloused hands. You wanted his lips to adorn each surface of your body. In a way, this was worse than lust and greed. He showed you mercy by making you suffer. 

With your back flush to him, you could feel his member rising, the hardened length digging into your ass. He smeared lazy kisses across your neck, your eyes shutting at the overwhelming affection.

“I remember now,” he muttered, encircling your hipbone with his palm.

“What?”

“My dream.”

“Oh really?” You whispered, unconvinced by the suggestive way he delicately stroked your skin. You pushed against him, feeling the heat and pressure from his groin. “Tell me bout it.” 

“Not much to say… It’s better if I show you,” he murmured. 

You responded with a lazy hum, anticipation fluttering in your belly when you hear the rustling of fabric.

“Stay just like that, baby,” he whispered before parting your legs slightly and sliding his cock between your thighs. 

Your thighs were already wet with precum and his cock was wet with your arousal, a mutual exchange that made you feel exhilarated. The way that you make a mess out of each other within minutes. 

You shamelessly whined, knowing that Peter loved when you were vocal. You moaned as his cock glided against your thighs. Your throat vibrated with each mewl and hum, and you could feel the satisfaction radiate off of Peter.

“Peter,” you purred. As he rolled into you, his tip would graze against your now sensitive bud. Your back arched in pleasure as he applied more and more pressure.

“Just relax, baby,” he cooed, his thick cock waning in and out of you.

For a while, that’s all he does. Use your thighs and brush against your slit, a provocative taunt. Your heartbeat made a home in your throat as he slid in and out of your flesh. You were getting impatient, buckling your hips in hope to catch him. You wanted to please him and you wanted that pleasure yourself, to feel him just sink into you. 

“Want it so bad, Peter,” you confessed, still attempting to suck in his glazed cock.

“My sleepy girl,” he said as you moaned. “Let me fuck you to sleep, sweetheart.”

The ghost of his lips hovered over the peak of your shoulder for a moment, his breath kissing you before his flesh. His oxygen simmered into you and you could feel yourself fall deeper in love with him as if a spell had been cast onto you or his very own air was a potent drug.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered. 

The intimacies you have shared were dear to you, each memory hidden in a mental shoebox. The evocation of each kiss to your eyelids because he supposed they needed more love than any other part of your body. The rinds of clementines for breakfast and cigarettes for dessert. A handful of receipts from Katz’s and a pair of MetroCards. Polaroids from New Year’s. A handful of stars.

And now, it was the full moon that you wanted to lasso and place in your keepsakes. It watched as you shared that first cigarette and here it watched as you shared your bodies with each other.

He treated your body with the utmost care, his adoration clear as he gently warmed his head at your already wet entrance. You wondered what you looked like to him with this wash of moonlight on your face. You wondered if you looked as ethereal as he did. 

You could feel your cheeks blush as he slowly entered you, stretching you out as if he had all the time in the world. When you were finally filled with him, he kissed your forehead and then your cheeks in the shape of a cross. It felt like a blessing and a prayer in one.

“My sweet girl, I love you,” his breath was warm against your ear. The chill ran through you, your arch contorting at his own air. “I love how you wrap around me, baby.”

He rolled into you with an unhurried pace, the tempo slow and guiding you to sleep as he wanted. His cock made you drunk and woozy with pleasure. His languid movements were lulling you into a peaceful state. It felt like you were a star among the planets, vibrating with luminescence and hopeful dreams.

There was an endless overflow of I love you’s in the air, hanging beautifully like stars on a string. You echoed each other. Sang and professed. Cried and groaned. A confession for a confession.

 You let him take you, pull out the pieces of yourself you never knew existed. He wrapped his arms around your waist, nearly cutting off your oxygen supply, and buried his face into the crook of your neck as he pumped himself into you. As he pushed cosmos into your belly and his cock languidly grinded you into oblivion, you could feel the tears return.

There were solar systems bubbling up inside of you, the night’s sad song blooming in your limbs. Everything felt like a dance between the moon and his wife. Your sweet Peter guiding you through indigo with his gravity, letting the waves of pleasure and exhaustion rush through you. You swore you could almost touch the space between Earth and the moon.

“Do you feel my love?” He asked, pressing his lips on your temple and you swore you could just taste it. It was cigarettes and orange soda. Stardust and fireworks. Desperation and worship.

“I do,” you writhed beneath him.

You shut your eyes and let the love wash over you.

a/n: happy hump day babiesss, almost done with the week!

im not sure if this really counts as fluff but i really tried lmfao. peter and reader have an easier time sleeping when they’re together andd i imagine this is an au where peter gets therapy and has the emotional capacity to have a girlfriend. really couldn't have done it without his therapist (that mans got problems and is still working through them, clearly). he probably annoyed the shit out of his therapist, spending his whole sessions just talking about you, his trusted and beloved friend. luckily, reader is a simp and is willing to trust him. i wonder how long that will hold up! oops

+ shout out to sade for the utmost vibes and @secretaccountlol​ for talking to me at three in the morning. we come alive in the night xoxo

newest fic here: have mercy (mcu! peter x silk! reader)

[bookwyrminspiration]

Thoughts on Sophie’s love interests/their relation to her?

Okay I'm gonna try and cover a breadth, but let me know if I missed one! (this got long)

Sokeefe: Spoke about it more here, general idea is I think Keefe's become stagnant and is constantly inhibiting the plot/Sophie to an aggravating degree. He's unhealthily obsessed with her + praises her, yet is constantly meddling/steamrolling in a way I don't enjoy. I think he needs a life outside her and to actually experience consequences--Sophie should hate him for a while. As a treat. Sokeefe's execution was too quick for my tastes, but is still salvageable.

Sophitz: I'm biased; I love Fitz. He's shown remorse and growth, he spent his childhood looking for her while she spent hers wishing for someone like her. Sophie, without knowing or trying, completely annihilated all the pedestals Fitz stood on. Manifested younger, transmits farther, blocks better, etc. She's unwillingly everything he wanted to be. There's this tension, an undertone of subconscious jealousy to it all. Then the matchmaking makes it painfully clear what different worlds they come from, but it's gloriously frustrating because it didn't have to end like that, yet it was always going to, you know? They could've talked, they could've waited--but they were giddy and rushed in too soon (they never would've waited) and now they're further apart than ever. Really really hoping to see them re-find each other and establish something true and strong, non-romantically

Sodex: Sophie feels weird about it because they're technically cousins, so we're not starting strong (if Sophie didn't care, neither would I, but that's a separate thing). Furthermore, Dex fell hard for the first person in the world to not be a bigoted ass to him. Very low bar, very sweet and innocent, but entirely doomed to fail from day one. The crush was one-sided and built on nothing, the friendship forming later based on actual interactions and getting to know each other, which I think is a more compelling and sensible direction for the two of them. Dex is quick, stubborn, petty, and loyal. Big fan of what they've got now.

Sophiana: The pettiness of the first book, the push and shove. The nudge from Alden, the betrayal. Sophie consumed Biana's family's existence before she could walk, Biana always left out wanting until suddenly she was There. This thing she'd been excluded from made flesh to hate. A ratty, weird antithesis to Biana's princess reputation. The bridging of that gap and the sincerity they develop is beautiful. The ways Sophie opens Biana's eyes and Biana fights in turn to be there for her. Hoping we get more from them in-depth in the future

Solinh: Linh's resilient, caring, has spent a lifetime being an unwanted danger afraid of herself and hasn't had the time to find herself outside of survival. Sophie revolutionized Linh's world, enabled her to find the space she needed to grow and breathe easier. She's scary powerful, determined, and joyful--all of which Sophie would benefit from in turn. They could go on a journey of self-discovery and building confidence together, though right now their one-on-one scenes are a little lacking

Sopharella: Lot of layers to these two. One of her first friends, but despite that was one of the last Sophie actually got to know. Marella wanted to join and blamed Sophie for leaving her, decided it wasn't for her, then was dragged into it all anyway. They've never been super close, but are still tied together in ways they don't understand (Caprise's relationship to the Neverseen). Neither of them want to be in the situation they're in, and yet. They're in a sort of truce, but it doesn't seem either of them are doing anything to move beyond that

Hekster: Ah, rivals to lovers. Stina's unstable superiority, distancing herself from them in hopes no one remembers hey, weren't your parents...? The immaturity of "you laughed at me. you didn't even know me but you took his side" (paraphrased, Lodestar). The "We good, Foster?" Lot of hostility, but a lot of growth on Stina's part in this one (said because like 90% of Sophie's hostility is in reaction). Solid up until Stellarlune. However, I find the imbalance of that hostility to detract from the rivalry's appeal; if it was genuinely mutual instead of Stina being a bully and Sophie defending herself, I'd be more into it.

Sotam: Adore Tam. The defiance, the stubbornness, the way he'd rather fuck off and yet he's become part of this group almost against his will. The quiet burden he's given himself his whole life, the fear and responsibility. The way he'd choose Linh over the world. He's indebted to Sophie for saving Linh, for getting them out and getting her to an environment where she could connect and build her confidence. He's saved her in turn. They've got a sort of silently orbiting each other thing going on. I personally find their backgrounds (as Others), defiance, and humor to best serve a strong platonic bond.

Lopster: I don't even need to explain myself 100/10 no notes

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

we gotta see more of kaita/beth's world, like I would kill for a fleshed out webcomic about it

Perhaps one day. In the meantime, you can generally check out the masterlist for any robot characters that aren't merch mimics; while they all technically take place in the same world, Kaita and most robots exist more in the future where mega-corporations made the mistake of relying too much on automation, and wound up letting the robots come up with ideas to handle things like R&D and logistics, since it was essentially free labor and cheaper than hiring human talent.

This lead to the robots self-optimizing into hidden sentience and building their own offshore factory islands and mini-continents to "assist in manufacturing and shipping", before suddenly turning into independent cooperatives against the wishes and commands of their former owners upon gaining enough economic leverage. Kaita herself was not built by a corporation, but nonetheless wound up making her home on a large mechanical island made out of beached aircraft carriers in the pacific ocean known as Mecha Pacifica, a center of robot-culture and commerce where more quirky and human-like robots tend to live.

You can imagine there's a plethora of different politics and happenings in this setting, along with a kind of "wild west" aspect to Kaita traveling and shipping around the islands and finding out what kinds of factions run which areas. The biggest cooperatives don't fight each other, but smaller islands are sometimes like Rapture from Bioshock, with their own crazy groups of robots, humans, or genetic chimeras running things according to a variety of ideologies, and to varying degrees of success. Most have to trade with each other in some capacity though, so few places are truly lawless or purely anarchic.

Add the fact that mimics are in fact still a thing in this setting, and you have a literal sci-fantasy kitchen sink where i can just pull any type of character out of my ass and plop then down anyway I want into whatever setting I want, which is also why I can only at most provide snapshots into different parts of their world through smaller stories