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astonmartinii · 11 months

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peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader

y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩

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user1: excuse me 😀

user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related

alexalbon: erm what is is ?

yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy

alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass

yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital

alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨

yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY

oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really

yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges

georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.

user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?

yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?

oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no

yourusername: ugh boring

user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman

oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines

yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?

georgerussell63: more like e l james

yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK

yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x

user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup

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user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE

yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”

oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing

yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP

oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did

yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists

oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not

yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(

georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for

yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨

georgerussell63: well yes but needs must

oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong

landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs

georgerussell63: okay i get it damn

yourusername: SMASH

alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?

yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too

alexalbon: excuse me?

yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl

lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳

alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life

user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos

georgerussell63: do not encourage her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.

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user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands

user9: she did NAWT hold back omg

oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour

yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone

oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me

user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?

yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.

georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.

yourusername: thank you georgie

oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here

yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸

alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN

user11: alex spill how brutal was it?

alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing

yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement

alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports

yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist

georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(

user12: why are we celebrating violence?

user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL

oscarpiastri

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.

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user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES

georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you

yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him

georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY

oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george

georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done

oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law

yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE

georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.

user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes

landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?

yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy

danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy

yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel

oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass

yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch

yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go

danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute

logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard

oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two

yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭

landonorris: WHAT ????

oscarpiastri: no comment

logansargeant: no comment

yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍

landonorris: no comment

alexalbon

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe

alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten

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user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship

yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING

alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated

yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily

alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph

oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n

alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house

yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK

alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you

yourusername: bare minimum

user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????

landonorris: lando norris erasure

charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure

oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town

landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(

yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud

landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63

georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago

yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay

oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real

user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf

yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really

oscarpiastri: and you love it

note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

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fairyysoup · 5 months

Text

it will come back

part two

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: As May Day approaches, you find yourself running into Eddie, and succumbing to his charms, more and more.

cw: smut, heavy petting, fingering, frottage, denied orgasm, public sex, getting caught, alcohol consumption (both eddie and reader), a bit of humiliation, teasing, tons of flirting, eddie munson's Big Meaty Claws, jealousy (by reader), eddie being a flirtatious shit all around, slight enemies to lovers beat here, some kind of historical fantasy period, fairytale au, descriptions of scars, mentions of abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master

a/n: Happy May! I wrote this in a complete stupor and woke up and it was almost 8.0k words, so there will be a part three. I also wanted to get this done yesterday, but that's not how the cookie crumbles. Alas.

The lyrics that Eddie sings in this are from a traditional English folk song, commonly called "As I Walked Through the Meadow." There are variations on the lyrics, but this is the version I used here.

MY WORKS ARE ALL 18+ MINORS DNI

The man from the creek is being thrown out of the tavern in the center of town.

You know because you’ve been watching since he went inside. Except, if anyone were to ask, you’d say you’re simply watching the ripples on the mud puddles on the dirt road in front of the building. They’re fascinating, you’d insist. They say you can see your future in them.

You’d noticed him going in as you were stepping out of the haberdashers. You knew it was him from the wine red of his blouse– it’s a rich color, like you’ve never seen on a garment worn by anyone in town, and certainly not by someone claiming to come from the woods. The last time you saw him, nearly a month ago now, you forgot to ask him where he got something so richly woven and colored, in such seemingly good repair. You contented yourself with a single lie: you didn’t want to know.

You also figured that you would likely never see him again. That this so-called Eddie Munson was probably better off disappearing back into the woods and staying there. You’d never seen him in town before, and you certainly didn’t expect to see him there any time soon. He doesn’t exactly fit in with the rest of the townsfolk; people who work the land, who own it, who sow it. His rich red wine doesn’t fit into the bland suedes and dull grays of your neighbors.

No– no, with his wild, curly hair and bright, rosy cheeks, he definitely doesn’t look like anyone who belongs in Havensfield. He belongs in a storybook. He belongs in a fairytale you tell to little children, to send them to sleep with something larger than life in their minds. Just like you haven’t been able to sleep a wink without thinking about him and his troublesome smile and sparkling eyes first.

It’s as if he has you under some sort of spell, unable to move on but remaining steadfastly in place with your mind only revolving around him. You figured it was probably best to spend the coin he gave you and get it out of your system, so maybe you can get rid of the one physical thing that reminded you of his existence.

But here he is, in the flesh and very alive, and being tossed into the mud puddle you had been gazing into, spraying droplets of dirty water off in every direction. A cacophony of laughter rings out from the open door of the tavern– a barkeep angrily wipes his hands on his apron, snarls something at Eddie, and disappears back into the building, the door slamming shut behind him.

The town has erected a maypole in the square for the May Day celebration in just a few days. The marketplace is normally hectic during the festival. Shopkeepers will set up their stalls, the place will be decorated with garlands of flowers, and for days at a stretch one can hardly get their errands done for the amount of chaos going on in the place. That’s why you did your shopping today, rather than waiting for the festivities to begin.

You didn’t expect this.

You haven’t moved from your spot in front of the haberdasher’s. You don’t know if you should– you look this way and that, wondering if anyone is going to approach him, or if everyone else instinctively gives him a wide berth. The people on the street continue about their business like they haven’t seen him, like he isn’t there. You wonder if it’s some unseen force of nature that keeps them away. Does some magic spell exist to make him undetectable to anyone but you? Or are you just the only one stupid enough to get close?

He just sort of lays there in the mud, staring up at the sky. You assume he’s drunk. Why else would he have been thrown out of the tavern? Drinking them dry, getting unruly, starting fights… Yes, you should go on about your business.

Your hand fists in your skirt, the color of barleycorn. Such a drab color when compared to his deep red, like the flow of blood from a wound. Just as you had feared, it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You lift your skirts and step carefully across the muddy town square, until your feet toe the edge of the puddle he lays in.

“Do you… need help?” you ask when you peer down at him. From this angle, his eyelashes fan across his cheekbones in long arches, fluttering like fairy wings.

“My Lovely Lady of the Creek!” He croons wistfully up at you when you pass into his field of vision. “We must stop meeting this way.”

“Which way is that?”

“With me on my back in a bunch of water.” He smiles at you treacherously, in that way he does. Like he’s privy to a joke that you’re completely unaware of.

“Well, are you just going to lay there like a dead man in the road? Or would you like help?” Your hands are on your hips, the small basket for your purchases wiggling precariously on your wrist.

“You really should be more discerning about who you offer to help,” he lectures as he heaves himself up to sit. Muddy water sloshes up towards your shoes, and you scamper back before they can get wet. “Lest I begin to get the wrong impression.”

“I don’t recall ever offering you help before,” you point out.

“Right,” Eddie says after a moment, his eyes sweeping along the road. He looks unsure, as if he doesn’t know what to ask for, if he wants anything at all. “You… could help me over to the well?”

Your eyes follow his to the well in the center of the square. You shrug, and then brandish your hand at him.

Eddie looks at it thoughtfully for a moment before placing his hand into yours. His hand engulfs yours in warmth, his long fingers stretching up and around your wrist. A flush bursts beneath your skin from where his touch hits, spreading up your arm and into your chest.

You’re going to catch fire, you’re sure of it.

Instead, you just help him to his feet, trying not to slip in the mud, yourself. Eddie staggers, sways back towards the porch of the tavern. You lunge forward to catch him before he can fall over again, and you snatch him around the waist without much thought. His arm plops down onto your shoulder, and your basket bats against his hip, the contents shifting inside.

You’re so close now. He smells like pine and whiskey, and his body is warm. So warm that you’re surprised he isn’t sick in bed.

“How much did you drink?” you ask him, your voice choked as you heave him towards the well. You don’t want to think about his body pressed against yours, his arm hot around your shoulders. He’s looking down at you with an impassioned gaze that you don’t want to match. You fear that if you look up into his face, you will.

“No more than usual,” he murmurs. His hand reaches out and grabs the stone ring of the well once you get him to it. He kneels on the step of it, starting to look a little green in the face.

“You smell like the tavern floor,” you tell him frankly, raising your hand to push his hair away from his face.

“Well, I was just laying in a bunch of piss and shit, so.” Eddie raises his head and gazes up at you, wide-eyed, when you press your hand to his forehead.

“And you’re much too hot,” you assess, watching his eyes flutter at your appraisal. “Don’t you dare get sick in the well. I have to drink out of that.”

“I need water,” he grumbles, and pulls away from your hand. He tries to stand, and fails.

“Stay,” you tell him firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie pouts, watching as you place your basket beside him and step up to the well to fetch him the bucket yourself.

Like a child who’s just been given a present, Eddie’s eyes fall to your basket. “What’s this?”

“My shopping,” you grunt with the effort of cranking the wheel to lift the bucket from the well.

“Ooh– stockings?”

You turn to glance at him, and see that he’s lifted the cloth from the basket to peek at the contents inside. He’s pinching your new stockings between his two fingers, pulling them out with a gleeful expression on his face.

You could kill him. “Put those back,” you hiss, letting go of the handle of the wheel. The crank spins backward, and down in the well, the bucket hits the water again with a loud, wet splash.

“Silk stockings, no less,” Eddie continues, ducking away from your swiping hand as he begins running the smooth hosiery over his knuckles. He seems to have gotten his second wind– no longer staggering, nor looking green in the face, he scampers around the well while you chase him. “Now how could a milkmaid afford such finery? It couldn’t be… no, I shant say–”

“Give it to me now,” you snarl at him, rounding the well after him. You hadn’t wanted him to see them– hadn’t wanted anyone to see them. It’s not something that you could have gotten yourself, on your own pay. The Master or Mistress would assume that you’d stolen the money, and punish you for it. Obviously, any stranger seeing them would be improper.

And Eddie… Well, he knows exactly how you got your hands on them.

“Could it be… a silver coin?” He giggles like an impish little sprite, his feet working faster than his mind. “Given to you by a handsome, charming, mysterious stranger?”

Eddie turns to look at you, holding the silken fabric up to his cheek to feel its softness. The sight of the gesture, him pressing his cheek against your undergarment, makes you see red.

“You little demon–” You lunge for him, but he jerks away, barrel rolling across the opening of the well somehow without managing to fall in. He lands on the other side with a noisy plop, laughing hysterically, and you continue rounding the well to get to him. “Your hair is unsightly and you smell like dirt and you’re as vain as you are vexing and I would rather try to climb the maypole than call you charming!”

“Well, you’re correct on most accounts,” he tells you, still trying to slow his laughter. Eddie lifts the cloth on your basket, still containing a bread roll and a new wooden comb, and begins carefully folding the silk stockings into a neat bundle. He tucks them back into the basket primly, while continuing, “But I would love to see you try to climb a maypole. Mine has been known to be good for such uses–”

“You’re despicable.” You snatch the basket away from him and step away from the well, turning your back to him without a goodbye.

“Maybe so,” Eddie replies from behind you. “But you’re still curious, aren’t you?”

You stop. You shouldn’t, but you do, and you know it’s a mistake the minute you turn and see him already standing, not swaying in the slightest, and beginning to crank the wheel of the well to fetch his own water.

With a scowl, you watch his arm work the wheel until the bucket rears up over the lip of the well, and he lifts it onto the edge. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, like he expected you to have walked away, and he smirks. “Ohhhh, she’s curious. You know what they say about curiosity.”

Your skin prickles as you’re uncomfortably reminded of your last meeting with Eddie. “You’re much too fond of your idioms.”

“They’re idioms for a reason,” he replies frankly. With the water bucket steady on the edge of the well, he pinchest the front of his blouse and begins untucking the tails from his trousers.

“What are you doing?” you snap, appalled, as he lifts the hem of his blouse to expose his belly.

He pauses, looking at you dubiously. “I have to wash my shirt.”

You bluster, “In front of the whole town?”

“Who’s looking?”

Who, indeed? You finally think to take in your surroundings, and you notice that the town square has cleared since Eddie was thrown out of the tavern. Aside from the occasional passerby, no one is lingering, and certainly no one is watching Eddie as he peels the muddy fabric from his skin.

“You’re the only person in this town who deigns to speak to me. I thank you for that,” Eddie says, not unkindly. “But you should know that it makes you a rose among thorns. That isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

“How is that not a good thing?” you ask, feeling his eyes rake over you just before he pulls his shirt over his head. You see a flash of pale skin, and avert your eyes so swiftly it nearly makes you dizzy.

“Roses tend to be picked,” he tells you simply, as if it’s obvious. “Careful who you show your colors to.”

Your face heats against your will, while your eyes remain locked on the building across the way and not on him. At least, not until your curiosity wins out, and you steal a glance at him.

Eddie dunks his dirty blouse in the bucket, splashing water down onto the stone step at the base of the well. The muscles of his arms flex with the work, and his hair spills over pale shoulders, rosy at the collarbones. He has pictures drawn on his skin with black ink– mythical creatures you learned about as a child, which denote power and magic. Surrounding the images on his skin are scars, old enough that they’ve gone pale, but their raised appearance indicates that he’s seen his fair share of danger. Hair trails down his chest and to the curve of his stomach, then disappears beneath the line of his trousers. Your eyes trace the trail of it, lingering on his waistband as you wonder how far down it goes.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he glances up at you. You immediately rip your eyes away, but it’s too late. He’s already seen you looking– seen you staring.

Eddie grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “If it pleases you to look, then look.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking,” you say, with more than a hint of pride, turning your nose up a bit for good measure.

“Of course,” Eddie muses, a wicked smirk still on his face. “And neither was I.”

He meets your eye with a heated gaze that makes goosebumps break out across your skin. His eyes are two black coals, burning at you from just a few feet away. They slowly move up and down your body, until he sets his jaw and turns back to the bucket. He lifts the red blouse from the water and wrings it out, casting droplets of water down his forearms.

You watch them travel along his pale skin, your eyes tracing the blue veins and sinewy muscles of his arms. And that’s when you notice it– the cloth tied around his wrist.

It’s pale pink. It has a slight brocade pattern to the weave. It’s one that your Mistress had no use of, and when she decided she didn’t want the cloth for anything, you took and dyed it yourself with rose petals, and turned it into a blanket for your bed.

It’s the same cloth that you tied to the injured leg of the wolf in your dream, all those weeks ago. But it wasn’t a dream, or it couldn’t have been– the end of that very same pink blanket is still frayed from the tear of the fabric.

“Where did you get that?” you ask him sharply, marching forward. He startles, drawing back just a bit, his eyes glancing you up and down in alarm.

“Get what?” he says coolly, though his manner doesn’t reflect his tone. He’s backing away from you, holding up his hands like you mean to attack.

“This.” Far too bold for your own good, you snatch his wrist in your hand. Eddie gazes down his nose at you as you yank his wrist up near your face, twisting until the pink brocade glints in the overcast light of late April. “Where did you get this cloth?”

“In the woods,” he says simply.

“This is from my bed,” you hiss at him, your eyes narrowing as your hand tightens on his arm. Beneath his overheated skin, his pulse pounds against your fingers. You feel it like the beating of a thousand drums. “I don’t believe you. Where did you get it?”

“I told you,” Eddie repeats slowly. “I found it hanging from a tree. Thought it was pretty, so I kept it.” His face betrays no emotion now, almost strategically so. Where alarm once was, there is nothing. No hint of hesitance, or mischief, or cunning. Just a blank slate that you have no way of reading.

Your eyes flick between his face and his arm, trying to connect the dots. That’s when you notice the mark as well– among the otherwise pale, older scars that riddle his torso and arms is a long, jagged gash on his bicep. It arcs across his skin and appears to have been from a deep wound. It’s raised over and scarred, but still bright in color. New.

You’re wondering if your mind is playing tricks on you. It’s improbable that the scar on his arm is the one you patched on the wolf a month ago. You refuse to believe such things; you don’t believe in wolf-men, in fairytales, in silly superstitions.

You release his arm. You still don’t believe him– not when he so quickly went from being startled, to suddenly showing no emotion at all. You don’t trust him in the slightest. It seems to you like he’s hiding something, but you don’t know what. You don’t believe he’s anything other than a man. You can’t honestly say that you believe he’s evil, or that he means you harm, but you still wouldn’t lay your life down to fend for his honor.

And that cloth. You would bet your life that the fabric wrapped around his wrist came from your bed, dyed by your own hand, tied around the wounded leg of a wolf on the last full moon. But you can’t dispute that what he says is true. So you step back, and you fix him with a steely-eyed gaze that you know would make even the roughest of men shake in their boots.

“Good day, Mr. Munson,” you say, and he looks surprised that you even remembered his name. “I hope that I never see you again.”

“Making a wish like that is unwise,” he replies mildly, turning back to the bucket that he has perched on the rim of the well. “Unless you have a coin to toss in the well for it. Silver, maybe?”

Your cheeks burn hot, and you turn away from him. He infuriates you so much. You can’t recall a time when a man affected you so badly.

“Right. Because you spent it,” he observes, taking your silence as a quiet relent. “I’ll sleep well knowing that my coin was spent on a pair of beautiful stockings. Excellent craftsmanship, by the way. The weave is immaculate. Feels like spun gold.”

“Go to Hell,” you mutter, finally turning away from him, for good this time.

“As long as I know you’ll think of me when you wear them,” he tells you as you walk away, “I’ll die a happy man.”

You pause. For a moment, you think of turning back to him, telling him to shove that exact thought down his stupidly pretty gullet. But you don’t. Thankfully, you have the reserve and the self respect to set your shoulders and leave him there, rinsing his soiled blouse there on the edge of the well.

You still didn’t ask him how he got a blouse so fine. You doubt that he would tell you the truth even if you did. All you know is that he stays with you, haunting you, rolling through your mind the way he rolled across the mouth of the well, until your hand lands on the gate to your Master’s property.

You can’t afford to have him occupying your thoughts. You can’t afford to be so distracted– you don’t even want to think about what may happen if the Master learns that you’re on your way to being smitten with someone. Someone young and beautiful and, from what you can tell, not running a farm with indentured servants on it.

And when exactly did you go from wanting him to disappear into the woods, to being smitten with him?

On May Eve, you get just enough of your chores done for the Mistress to not find any excuse for you not to attend the festivities. With your hands tight on a woven basket, you set off with a group of young milkmaids from down the lane, bearing torches, to collect flowers from the meadows and woods.

Bringing in the May is one of your favorite customs, mostly because it’s practiced by the young people of the town. You don’t have to worry about being watched by the town elders. There’s an air of being chosen by someone; the more popular girls in town get flowers laid on their doorsteps in abundance. You’ve never been left flowers, but each year you hold out hope that someone, anyone, will leave them for you. A gesture– you’re wanted.

There’s music in the air. Groups of young men and women laugh and dance, and the meadows are dotted with the little blooms of fire at the ends of torches as flowers are gathered. You’ve already indulged in a certain amount of floral spring wine and honey cakes, lulling you into a sweetly tipsy, giggly mood. There’s magic in the air– you can taste it in the humidity, the moonshine, the salt of sweat and earth.

“There aren’t enough flowers in the meadow this year,” one of the girls in your group complains, tromping through the high grass.

“This isn’t the only meadow in Havensfield, Victoria,” says another.

“I’ve seen more growing by the trees,” you offer, holding out your basket for one girl to toss a few measly primrose blooms in.

The other girls stop. You look around in the low torchlight at the appalled expressions on their faces.

“You can’t just… go into the woods,” the one named Victoria objects. “There’s… there’s fairies. And wolf-men.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes while the other girls balk. “You can’t honestly tell me that you believe those old wive’s tales. You know the elders only tell those stories to keep us from going into the woods to fuck.”

A few snickers rise up with the smoke from the torch. “It’s true, I saw Katherine Plack sneaking through the woods with Scotty Raker two nights ago,” says a short girl beside Victoria, nodding sagely.

“And what were you doing in the woods, Hyacinth?” the girl holding the torch says, slugging Hyacinth on the shoulder.

The girls dissolve into laughter, while you suck on your lower lip and gaze toward the trees. It can’t be that dangerous, if Eddie claims to come from in there… somewhere. You imagine a cozy little cottage in the woods with a well beside it, tucked away, hidden from town. You imagine him chopping the wood to make it, himself. You imagine his lean frame and strong hands holding an ax, the drawings on his skin highlighted in the filtered sun through the trees as he swings the blade–

“I’m going to go see,” you announce abruptly, your voice nearly cracking. You’re nodding to yourself, looking like an idiot while you fumble to pick the basket up and set it on your hip. “Yep. That’s what I'm going to do. You all can stay here if you want.”

“But, there’s no light,” Victoria insists, pulling her hair back away from her face with a condescending expression.

“Moon’s almost full, I can see just fine,” you snap back. Honestly, what does it matter to her if you go into the woods? “I’ll be back.”

Hyacinth calls something about “girding your loins” after you, but you’re too far away to really pay it any mind. The grass grows taller by the trees, and you hop over the creek into a wide bed of bright yellow marigolds. They wiggle in the slight spring breeze, lit with just enough moonshine for their color to show even in the dark.

“Beat that, Victoria,” you mumble as you set the basket on the ground. Methodically, you begin picking them, choosing the biggest blooms, the ones with the most immaculate petals. You’ll decorate your small cabin with them, and fashion garlands for the town square with the rest.

As you wander over to another bed to collect some more blooms, you hear singing, following the tune being played by the pan flute across the meadow. It’s an old folk song that most of the people in town would know, and you hum along mindlessly as you pick the flowers at your knees.

“As I was a-walking to take the fresh air, The flowers all blooming and gay, I heard a young damsel so sweetly a-singing, Her cheeks like the flowers in May.”

It’s a young man’s voice, coming from somewhere in the trees, low and rich, and quiet enough that you don’t think it’s meant to be heard by anyone else across the meadow. Tipsy, you smile to yourself, not thinking to look for the source of the voice, but just appreciating the sound as it travels on the breeze.

“Said I, ‘Pretty maiden, and how came you here, In the meadows this morning, so soon?’ The maid she replied, ‘Why, to gather some May, For the trees they are all in full bloom.’”

As your fingers stroke along soft flower petals, humming along under your breath, you glance over your shoulder towards the meadow, where flaming torches dance like woodland spirits in the night. Laughter follows the music and the raucous cheering of the other groups of May-goers, dancing and collecting their own greenery and flowers.

The rich, velvety voice filters through the trees, ever quieter, but even closer than before. You look up just in time to see the source of the voice move just beyond the treeline, and then he appears, leaning against the trunk of a great pine, close enough that you can see the deep wine red of his blouse, and the wicked smirk on his lips.

“I said, ‘Pretty maiden, shall I go with you Through the meadows to gather some May?’ ‘Oh no, sir,’ she said, ‘I would rather refuse, For I fear you would lead me astray.’”

You could swear that Eddie’s eyes glow nearly red at you in the moonlight, his teeth sharper than you’ve ever seen them as he grins at you. The lace at his collar is untied, disheveled, falling open to reveal one of the inked pictures on his skin and his dark chest hair.

“Climb any maypoles today, princess?” he asks you after a moment of your staring at him, like you’ve seen a ghost.

The question sets your skin aflame. You sit back on your heels, giving him a caustic expression, despite the way your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s the eve of May, your lurid mind thinks, tracing his outline among the trees. Anything could happen.

“I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again, Mr. Munson,” you retort, imagining that he won’t be affected by your words in the slightest.

He isn’t. “Ah-ah, you said you hoped that you wouldn’t. But you didn’t toss a coin in the well, therefore, your wish was never going to be granted. Rules of nature, sweetheart.” He wags a finger at you. “And enough with that ‘Mr. Munson’ business. You remember my name, don’t you?”

“Eddie,” you say quietly, not sure why you feel so shy when you do. Probably because, up until now, you’ve been firm in your false belief that you’d never give him the time of day. It seems it all depends on whether or not you’ve seen him shirtless, first.

“Good girl. I knew you were paying attention.” Eddie smirks at you then, sowing the seeds of your detriment right there. He stands poised, and then bows low as he says, “So, pretty maiden, shall I go with you through the meadows to gather some May?”

You consider quoting the song right back to him, but you figure that it’s probably what he expects you to do. So instead, you sigh and shrug your shoulder at him. “As long as you promise not to crush them in your big meaty hands.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open in shock, an impressed smile curling his mouth up at the corners. He barks a laugh. “That’s not how the song goes.”

“Well, the song ends with them kissing and then getting married in the morning,” you point out, with a roll of your eyes. “So, forgive me for not adhering to the lyrics.”

“Also, my hands are not meaty.” He smirks at you ruefully, his face half bathed in moonlight. He leans towards you, “I’ll tell you what is, though–”

“If you’re about to mention your maypole again, I’m leaving,” you snap, glaring at him in the dark. He snickers, but says nothing, instead preferring to start gathering marigolds. “Just how did you manage to find me again, anyways? There are hundreds of people wandering the meadows tonight. How is it that you keep managing to run into me and no one else?”

“Oh, I can sniff you out in a heartbeat, princess. It’s one of my many talents.” The flowers are dwarfed by his hands– his long fingers pinch the stems delicately, offset by the size of the silver rings he wears on them. You admire them, watching them glint in the moonlight, the tendons in his wrist flexing and his skin pulling tight over veins and knuckles. The heavy metal clicks as he works. You’re about to comment on them, when you watch what said fingers are doing with the flowers.

He takes one, and loops the stem around another, creating a loose knot that lets the tails sit alongside each other. He repeats the process slowly, building a chain of bright marigold blooms, while he hums idly and shoots you a heavy look from beneath his lashes. “Ah. So you’re not afraid to look, now. That’s good to know.”

You tear your eyes away. The tips of your ears burn with embarrassment at having been caught staring, yet again. “Have you any shame?”

“Not a hair of it.”

Eddie holds up a finished crown of flowers, grinning at you. He places the circlet of blooms on your head, and as he draws back, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“And I crowned her my Queen of sweet May,” he sings at you, more of a coo than truly carrying a tune. “The most beautiful one in all the land, of course.”

“From princess to queen,” you muse, trying not to show how quickly your heart is melting. “I’m sure you must think that endears you to me.”

“I’d like to think so,” Eddie admits, leaning ever closer to you. You can see the reflection of the moon in his eyes, glinting vaguely red– you can smell honeyed wine on his breath. His voice drops even lower in register, until it’s just barely above a whisper. “I hope so. Tell me I’m wrong, sweetheart.”

“I think,” you murmur just as quietly, letting your eyes drop indulgently to his parted lips. They’re so plush and inviting, they’re right there. You need only let yourself bend an inch and you could kiss him. You breathe in, “I think…”

Your hand falls softly to the basket of flowers beside you.

“I think your hands are egregiously meaty.”

You lift a handful of marigolds and smash them into his mouth, making him splutter and fall backwards. You cackle, flinging yourself in the opposite direction, scrambling up to run away. You swear you got some of them in his mouth; you can hear him coughing and spitting them at the same time as he laughs.

“I’ll get you for that!” You can hear him leaping up to chase you, and the prospect makes your heart pound in your chest, your blood rushing hot beneath your skin. You’re sure that it will be easy for him to catch you– you’re hoping for it, really.

You duck between the pines and into the trees. “Come sniff me out then, if you must!”

You hear his laugh from behind you, almost sounding dark and menacing. Your hair stands on end, but your feet carry you through the trees, running even though you feel as though you’ve been struck by lightning.

His feet pound the earth behind you, his laughter dancing on the breeze and combining with the music from the meadow. Beyond the trees, your contemporaries dance and make merry with the coming of summer. Here, in the woods, you run from some indeterminate end– one that you have an inkling of, like the barest traces of a memory, but you can’t quite make it out yet.

Eddie’s hands snatch you by the waist, and you yelp. Heat bursts beneath your skin where he touches you through your bodice, whirling you around until your back hits the trunk of a tree.

Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding, chest heaving. Eddie is so close, and the air around you buzzes with energy and magic, as if the very trees themselves were singing.

“You little minx,” Eddie muses, his voice rumbling low like thunder. “Just need me to chase you, is that it?” His eyes truly do shine red, you don’t think you’re imagining it– each time they catch the light of the moon, or a torch burning far off in the meadow, you see a glimpse of that subtle iridescent red of a forest creature in the dark glinting back at you.

“I think you’re a spirit,” you whisper, the words light and airy in your throat as you try to regain your breath. “I think you’re one of the Fey. You can’t be real.”

Eddie has you caged in against the tree– one hand on the trunk beside your head, one on your hip. You don’t want to be anywhere else. “Oh, I’m very real, sweetheart. Shall I show you how much?”

His forefinger traces the line of your cheekbone, down the side of your face, to your jaw. You want it bad. You want him and anything he’ll give you– throw you to the ground, take you as prey, the lot of it. You won’t be married in the morning, but tonight all things are possible.

You turn your face and drag your lips across his knuckles, half-gone in your desire. You barely even register the look on his face; eyes wide, lips parted in awe, like he’s never seen anything like you before. Like you confound him as much as he confounds you. A match made in heaven.

Eddie catches your jaw in his fingertips, holding you like you’re made of glass, and he crashes down into you. He tastes of cherry wine, as rich and deep as the color of his blouse, which you fist in your hand to tug him closer.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips. It falls like a sigh into his mouth, and his hand tightens on your hip momentarily before gathering your skirts. The fabric flutters as he pulls at them, tugging them up just enough to disappear beneath the hem.

Your breath quickens. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you think, Oh fuck, this is really happening.

Eddie’s finger’s pause on the breadth of your thigh, just above your knee. His forefinger strokes downward, passing over your garter strip and feeling the weave of the silk before he cracks a self-satisfied smirk at you.

“Nice stockings. Get them recently?”

Your eyes narrow with false gravity, your nose scrunching. “I’ll kill you.”

His smirk stretches into a grin, and he scoffs a little laugh that flutters across your lips. It feels like a kiss. “Dying between the legs of my beautiful Queen of May sounds like a good way to go, actually.”

His hand drags hotly up your outer thigh, and the touch nearly burns you to your core. Eddie’s thumb presses against the skin just at the juncture of your leg, and you press your lips together to bite back a moan from coming out. Everything between your legs is tense, and pulsing, and turning feverish the longer he just pets at your skin and tugs your leg up to rest against his hip.

His fingertips dig into the curve of your ass and the moan escapes you; high pitched, needy, embarrassing. You’re hot all over and you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you– you have a mind to tell him so, too, when Eddie dips his head and bites at your earlobe.

He dips his finger between your folds, tracing one forefinger up the seam of your cunt, and you swear you could nearly scream. Flesh that is too hot and too sensitive bursts alive with feeling. His finger is drenched, your legs shake just from one touch. Is this what it always feels like?

“Oh, baby,” he coos as you whimper into his neck. His lips move slowly along your skin. Each move of his finger, just teasing you gently, dragging so slowly over your clit that your back arches and you keen long and high. “That’s it. This is what you needed, isn’t it?”

You let out a pitiful squeak, nodding your head like you may explode rather than answer. He strokes you firmly and then gently, watching your face, studying your expressions. It’s so much and it’s not enough, not nearly enough to settle the throbbing in your core.

“Please…” It’s the only thing you can come up with, the word bubbling up out of your throat before you can make it make sense. “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?” Eddie tilts his head. His pale skin nearly glows in the moonlight, the red in his eyes shining for a split second. “Please… here?”

His finger circles your entrance, prodding but never quite dipping in all the way. It’s just enough to make you see stars, just enough to turn you nearly insane.

“Oh my God,” you cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders and gripping at his neck.

Eddie hums, letting you feel the gentle touch for a few more seconds before it’s gone. You could cry. There are tears in your eyes– you could sob, throw a tantrum. You don’t think it would make him change his mind either way.

“My hands are too big, though, aren’t they?” Eddie shakes his head, mirroring your pout in a condescending manner that makes you want to smack him. Then he cracks a smirk, and you know he’s just being mean. “Mhm. Big and meaty. Too much for a sweet little thing like you. I wouldn’t want to break–”

You snatch his wrist through your skirts and bring his hand back between your legs. No preamble, no begging– this time he hisses, and you sigh with relief as you grind down onto not just his fingers, but his entire hand.

“You’re not disappearing on me this time, Munson,” you nearly growl at him. Your tongue lavishes his skin, his long neck providing just the right amount of area for you to indulge in.

“I would have stayed,” he gasps out when your teeth find a particularly tender spot under his jaw. “I’d have stayed if I knew you wanted me to.”

“I want you to,” you say, and you wonder if you’ll regret it in the morning. But the morning seems so far away right now, and his hand feels so good between your legs, and you don’t quite understand how you could regret anything that makes him look at you like that.

“Don’t– You can’t talk to me like that,” he whispers, and his eyes shine like rubies in the night as he gazes at you in awe. “You should know better than that.”

You do know better. But still, you tell him, “Stay,” and it’s like a dam has been broken. You know that you’ll never get rid of him now, and you don’t really want to. You want him to make a home in your chest, right against your heart. You want him to always touch you like this. You want him to always look at you with that same reverent gaze, like he’s just looked upon divinity.

Eddie crowds between your legs and his hand leaves you, but his thigh remains in its place. His leg presses tight to your core, the rough fabric of his trousers not nearly as warm as the touch of his hand, but just as erotic. You rock forward mindlessly against his thigh as he takes your face in his hands– one wet with your arousal– and kisses you breathless. His lips move over yours softly, and then passionately, until you take all that passion and feed it back into him twice over.

You lose track of time. The stroke of his tongue against yours, your hands in his hair, his firm thigh between your legs, all brings you to the edge of oblivion. You squirm against him and he chuckles against your lips. He knows what you want. He’ll give it to you, you know it, you know that he will–

And then a twig snaps. Someone calls your name just through the trees, and then, fucking Victoria breaks through the bushes just in time to see you jump and squeal, having to clutch at Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling over when he spins around to see who intruded on your precious moment.

“OH! I’m so sorry– I thought–” Victoria fiddles with a long lock of her hair, twisting it idly before tossing it over her shoulder. You’re sure you look disheveled, with Eddie’s crown of marigolds slowly unweaving itself in your hair. It’s obvious to her what you’d been doing– Her eyes rake up and down Eddie’s frame, standing halfway in front of you like a shield, his chest heaving, a dark spot on his trousers where his thigh had been pressed between your legs. “Well, you said you were going to be back, and we thought you’d gone missing…”

“I was in the middle of doing something,” you tell her bluntly.

“Understatement,” Eddie mutters under his breath, and you knock your elbow against his back.

You ignore him. “I thought you didn’t want to go into the woods?”

“Well, that was before we thought you… disappeared.” Victoria looks from you to Eddie. “Who’s this?”

“Something.” Eddie grins at her, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight breaking through the trees. “Sorry I stole her away from you. We were actually just having a fascinating conversation about when it’s appropriate to disappear– you could join us if you want?”

Eddie glances over his shoulder at you, and smirks a bit at the expression of complete and utter envy on your face. You don’t want anyone to join. You don’t want to share him. You want him all to yourself. You want to grow on him like ivy until no one can see him but you. You want to hold him close to your chest and keep him there for eternity, and then some.

“Oh, no, I–” Victoria blushes. She half-turns, like she wants to run away from the conversation entirely. “I just wanted to let you know that we’ve collected all the flowers we need, so… we’re going back to town. You can stay… if you want.”

You want to throw a fit.

She ducks back into the bushes quickly. Eddie is quiet for a moment, listening to her footsteps through the grass, before he turns to you.

“You were jealous,” he teases, leaning towards you with that stupid self-aggrandizing grin.

Your face grows hot with anger and embarrassment. “You did that on purpose.” You shove him bodily, so that he stumbles a bit to the side, and he snickers. “I can’t believe you. She could have said yes to that.”

“Nah, she was too bashful. I knew she wasn’t gonna take me up on the offer. She wandered into something she wasn’t ready for.” Eddie leans up against a tree, smiling at you with a more resigned expression now. He looks you over, like he wants to burn the image of your kiss-bitten lips and rumpled dress into his memory. After a moment, he meets your eye again. “You should go. Get some sleep before the festival tomorrow.”

“But I–” You flounder. You just made so much progress, and now you’re just back where you began. You shouldn’t be proud about it now– not after he nearly took you to pieces with a single touch. Not when you can still feel the sharp edge of an orgasm pressing at your core, wanting to force its way out but with no way to get there now, and every look at him makes it press that much harder. “You know what– I don’t even know what I expected.”

You march off towards the tree line. You have to find your fucking flower basket. You have to go and make garlands and slap together some bouquets for the festival tomorrow. You have to pretend like you aren’t dying inside from the disappointment.

“Princess.” You turn to him. He isn’t smiling anymore, he just looks disappointed as well. He glances up at the moon, and then back to you. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. Best not to go near the woods, okay?”

“Don’t tell me you believe in those stupid wolf-man stories, too,” you snap, beyond aggravated.

“Just promise me,” Eddie bites back, his eyes shining dangerously in the moonlight. “Promise me that you’ll stay in town. Don’t come near the woods. Drink, be merry, have a good time.”

“And you?” You feel a bit humiliated and desperate, vying for his time and attention– but you want it. You want it, you want him, more than anything, but you have a feeling you won’t be getting what you want, yet again. “What about you?”

“I’ll find you,” he says firmly, and then lowers his eyes. Softly, he amends, “I’ll always come back to you.”

#i'm inordinately proud of this one uhh #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #werewolf!eddie munson #werewolf!eddie #werewolf!eddie munson x reader #stranger things #roses*

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smallpwbbles · 11 days

Text

Strawberry shortcake and Hard things to talk about.

Got another Biolizard shadow au ic for y’all, I swear this was gonna be a short thing that just had fluff. I suddenly just started going off the rails and the lil devil on my shoulder egged me on to add angst.

Hope yall like it either way (gonna start putting these on A03 if I write a third thing and it ends up longer than this one)

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Amy concluded she was going to kill them when they arrived. She sat and stewed right in front of a large tartan pink picnic blanket adorned with many baked treats she had spent an entire morning slaving over to get everything to perfection. When she baked she didn’t do it half way.

It was getting to half past four, three o’clock she had told the blue hedgehog and had texted to Rouge as direct long distance communication with Shadow was practically non existent considering how scarce the beast hedgehog liked to make himself.

Many weeks of pleading and begging him to at least join one of her picnics had led to him finally relenting and agreeing on today's outing. The pink hedgehog's excitement was uncontrollable as she absolutely exploded in enthusiasm when he finally agreed. Rouge had to keep her grounded as her eager rambles about picnic locations and recipes to bake had overwhelmed the large hedgehog causing him to promptly leave with a chaos control.

Amy forgot how easily flustered the guy got when encountered with a reaction he had no idea how to respond to. She didn’t blame him for teleporting as quickly as he did, the confirmation of his attendance was all she needed to begin preparing for the picnic.

That was three days ago, and now she sat in a small secluded park outside of station square with her tasty baked treats getting stale by the second. So, yeah she was definitely gonna give those two a good hit with her hammer if they didn’t show up in the next 5 minutes.

Speaking of the devil, a blue burr dashed right up to her picnic blanket. Amy scrambled to keep her treats from flying off the blanket due to the wind generated by Sonic as he dusted himself off looking quite frazzled, it didn’t quell her anger at his tardiness.

“You better have a good reason for being more than an hour late” she chided, Sonic was picking at a branch that has somehow got lodged into his quills most likely on the way to the park. He peeped at all the delicious treats strewn about in front of him, it didn’t escape Amy’s notice the way his face scrunched up at her strawberry shortcake. With that attitude he was gonna receive a bonk on the head with her hammer regardless of a good reason for his current punctuality.

“Sorry Ames, had a bit of a blow up in Tails workshop, was making sure Tails was okay before jetting off” Sonic explained. Well that was definitely a good reason, she began to feel a little bad at her anger towards the blue hedgehog.

“Oh my gosh, is he okay?” Amy asked, her worry quickly eased by an adorable smile from Sonic.

“Yeah yeah, the explosion was just from a faulty invention of his, there was a heckuva mess but he’s all good” he gave a thumbs up to add to assurance

Amy sighed in relief, it was good to know the little fox hadn’t got himself hurt, Tails was usually the best with machinery but had the odd hiccup here and there.

Her relaxation was replaced with alertness as she watched Sonic reach towards her pound cake, Amy slapped the outstretched gloved hand which had Sonic bring it back to himself instantly. He pouted at her as he soothed his attacked hand, Amy only rolled her eyes at him.

“Don’t be rude! Shadow isn’t here yet y’know” she scolded, she loved to let people indulge in her baked goods but she believed proper etiquette was to wait for all her guests to be there first.

“Aww but we have no idea when he’ll even be here” the blue hero whined “it’s no problem if I have a piece”

“You’re a world renowned hero and can’t wait a little longer to have some cake?” she teased.

“I totally can! I just happened to not have had breakfast today, give a guy a break Ames” he protested “if was shadow instead of me you would of given him cake at the first chance”

“Maybe, but unlike you Shadow doesn’t gag at the sight of my strawberry shortcake”

“It’s not my fault it’s like the worst kind of cake” Sonic huffed. She was about to reach for the hilt of her hammer when the air began to feel hot, immediately she and Sonic braced themselves when a large field of energy popped just several feet in front of them. Just as quick as it was to appear the energy dissipated with a present Shadow replacing it. The chaos energy felt like static as it waved around the area for a moment before shadow coolly drove away the extra energy his chaos control generated.

The monstrous hedgehog searched the park for a moment before laying his eyes on the two tiny normal hedgehogs and Amy’s adorable picnic blanket under a large oak tree. It provided a nice shade from the glazing summer heat which Shadow quite liked so he began a tiny trek to the other two.

Amy had gotten used to Shadow's overwhelming presence quite quickly as did Sonic, she heard his heavy footsteps as he situated himself in front of the picnic. His large size provided additional shade from the sun which she greatly appreciated as she hadn’t expected the Temperature to rise as much as it did today. Shadow plopped himself down and awkwardly placed himself on his hind legs, his current position reminded Amy of a cat which was funny because she was sure he was only a hedgehog and lizard.

“Shadow! I’m so glad you're here” she exclaimed as she ran up to give his ankle a quick hug, he returned the gesture by placing his claws on her back gently “I managed to get Sonic here too! Isn’t that great”. The monstrous hedgehog turned to the blue hero and gave a nod of acknowledgement , Sonic returned it with a wink which Amy could have sworn had Shadow flustered for a second.

She left the ankle to return to the large blanket “I worked real hard this morning, I’ve got all kinds of tasty goods for us! I’ve got peanut butter cookie cups, rocky road, lemon drizzle, strawberry shortcake” she pointedly looked at Sonic at the last item, Shadow could only raise an eyebrow at the sudden hostility. “Oh! I also tried something new, they’re these coffee pasty knots, Rouge told me how much you love coffee Shadow so I wanted to give these a try”.

Shadows' fluffy ears perked up at the word coffee, he also couldn’t help the tinge of annoyance at his bat companion for letting slip his obsession with coffee beans. Rouge and the little hedgehogs in front of him were some of the few he trusted most, but he couldn’t help the need to keep things about himself to a minimum. He’d have a word with the bat about it later, as much as he dreaded it.

Sonic paid no attention to Amy’s list of pastries, face already stuffed with her iconic pound cake, he held two other slices in his hand. Amy commended herself for going the extra mile on the pound cake as she knew Sonic was an absolute sucker for it. She hoped he’d indulge in the other treats as she came prepared with the info that Shadow didn’t actually need to eat. It came in handy for a person like him considering his massive size and the amount of sustenance that would be needed to satisfy him if he needed to eat.

Luckily the chaos energy that inhabited every molecule of his body made the need for such a substantial amount of food non existent. Not to say he wouldn’t eat here and there, though Amy had heard he only ever ate bags of coffee beans. An odd choice of food to be consuming all the time but Amy didn’t want to judge, Shadow was an odd being in itself and she only really wanted to understand the guy. That’s what having him here for the picnic was about

Amy recalled months back when Shadow was consumed by his grief, he’d lost all he ever knew and loved to people who wanted to keep knowledge of his existence silenced. She remembered the news broadcasts that presented a monster in station square, lashing out at anything and anyone around him in reckless but anguished abandon. With hindsight she knew the fear of him was natural, but knowing his history as she did now, Amy just wanted Shadow's time on the planet to be wonderful.

She couldn’t forget, when she encountered Shadow staring upon what she later found out was his old enclosure on the abandoned ARK. He looked numb and far away, she had stood her ground and begged the giant from the depths of her heart to help the people of earth, she wasn’t sure why her words had seemed to have struck him as hard as they did but she was glad, his effort in stopping the eclipse cannon was palpable though he was greatly injured after the events and needed many weeks to recover.

She was taken out of her thoughts as Sonic began choking on what was probably his 4th serving of the pound cake, Amy rolled her eyes as the hedgehog hacked and coughed to dislodged the cake he was previously munching on. She ran over and gave him a few firm pats on the back that didn’t seem to do the job until a forefinger and thumb entered her view and flicked Sonic right on the back. It managed to dislodge the cake but the force of the flick had been too strong and sent sonic flying into some dirt a few feet away.

Amy felt bad, she really did, but she needed a second to hide her laughter at the sight, Shadow looked nonchalantly and quite a bit proud of his actions. Better for your face to be covered in earth than choking on a piece of her iconic pound cake Amy thought, she didn’t say it out loud as the expression Sonic had when he lifted himself out of the ground told her he wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

————————————————————————

Sonic was currently strewn lazily across Amy’s lap while Shadow had lay out onto his forearms not too far from them. Her treats had been significantly devoured by Sonic who decided to show what a glutton he could be today. She had clapped madly when she noticed Shadow pick up the coffee pastry between two enormous claws to give it a try, she couldn’t help herself as she hounded him on how it tasted. Shadow merely gave a “it’s good” in response which to her somehow translated to it’s the best thing ever and she squeaked in flatteration. He blushed heavily and she apologised for her excitement.

She stroked the blue hedgehogs quills, she adored the guy but she was bewildered at how he didn’t notice the amount of little twigs and leaves caught in his head, sleeping on a branch of a tree was all she got in response when pointed out the reason for their presence in his quills.

Shadow looked just as lazy as Sonic did, as he lay with his eyes closed. She appreciated how calm and relaxed the beast hedgehog looked, it was far cry from the rage filled monster he was months ago, he used to looked like the living embodiment of anger. She recalled when Sonic described his first encounter with the lizard hedgehog, it was like the air itself was boiling with Shadows rage as he and Sonic had a standoff in the centre of station square.

The ferocity at which Shadow came at Sonic on that day was terrifying, meeting again with Sonic upon prison island, she was met with the blue hedgehog recovering from an attack that Tails deducted was a poisonous sort of chaos energy Shadow was able to generate. It was no wonder how Sonic got captured so easily. Though she couldn’t imagine Shadow attacking any of them with such a move now, she knew he wouldn’t admit it but he clearly had grown to like the lot of them.

She turned her attention away from Sonic to look at Shadow, his nose would twitch every so often, probably all the pollen surrounding them giving him a bit of irritation, she noticed Sonic’s Hay fever acting up a few times during the picnic, she outstretched her hand to the nose as it was the closest thing of Shadow near her, he opened his eyes at the touch of her tiny hand on his nose and sat up a bit.

“I’m really glad you're here shadow” she expressed, his face turned absolutely red and he plopped back onto his forearms, greatly trying to hide his flushed face behind them as the assertion of Amy’s gladness for his presence warmed his heart a bit too much to handle.

“I second that” sonic exclaimed as he passively pointed his finger in the sky and then to shadow. Amy hoped the extra love would make Shadow absolutely beat red but Sonic's deceleration seemed to make the Large hedgehog think hard for a moment, he sat up completely, casting a shadow over the two little hogs and gave them a hard look.

“I don’t…deserve this” his deep voice rumbled out.

That had Amy puzzled, what did he mean by that? Though she realised she wasn’t going to get an answer by looking up cluelessly at him.

“Deserve what Shadow?” She questioned, the hard look he had melted into a look of regret and guilt,

“What I did I-“ he fumbled on his words for a moment, she knew conversation was hard for him but she was patient for an explanation of his sudden rejection of their affections “I hurt a lot of people, I hurt Sonic…you shouldn’t be so kind” he finally found the words.

She watched as he fidgeted with his claws, Sonic had sat up from her lap and looked pensive at the huge hedgehog. The atmosphere had gotten melancholic at the confession, it pieced together in Amy’s mind about Shadows usual behaviour, why he made himself scarce and his refusal to do anything with their group. The most Shadow would go out and do was the top secret missions with Rouge but that was mandatory due to his admission into GUN and Amy wouldn’t count that “getting outside”.

Even then the admission had been because GUN wanted to keep Shadow under some level of control, Rouge fought hard for Shadow to work with the defence force lest they decide to lock Shadow away or at worst put him down due to fear of his power. She knew Shadow hated it and the confession he just gave concluded the acceptance of such a job was punishment for events that transpired months ago.

The humongous hedgehog had come to some sort near peace at his currently life, but the lingering, persisting guilt of everything never left him, the guilt that his very existence got his family and many other innocent people killed, the guilt of his rage that he took out on the innocents of station square and Sonic who had done nothing but try and defend his home. But especially with what led to the near firing of the eclipse cannon, which could have destroyed the planet, the only thing that kept Maria as motivated as she was to get better and live on said planet. With him.

He dug his claws into his legs, the recollection of the events began to make his head hurt, Amy rose to her feet and beelined to a claw placed close enough for her to reach “Shadow, no no we really do love having you here! What happened to you was terrible, anyone would be as mad as you were” she asserted

“It doesn’t make what I did okay” he retorted, Shadow always made sure to keep his voice down, he possessed powerful chords due to his size but in the moment, he could feel his irritation rise, she wasn’t getting it.

“It doesn’t, you're right but you felt like everyone was against you, you had just woken up and everything was different and anyone you knew was gone!” Amy argued, shadow flinched at the reminder, it was true. His emergence from stasis was followed by his brain wracking to recollect everything that has previously happened, in that moment he could only remember panic, screams and a gunshot. It was a miracle he didn’t just tear Eggman in two when initially met with the scientist's presence.

Amy needed to be careful, she could feel Shadow beginning to growl resulting in vibrations being sent throughout the ground, it shook her up a bit but her resolve stayed strong. She didn’t want him to up and leave, thinking he didn’t deserve the bit of peace he was given today.

“They’re gone because of me, it was all cause of me” Shadow refuted, Amy didn’t know what to say, his pain ran so deep yet so fresh, to him the events hadn’t transpired 50 years ago, he was here with no people that even begin to comprehend that sort of pain

“Ohhhh my GOSH, SHADOW!” Sonic exasperated, Amy had forgotten he was still sitting on her picnic blanket as he rose up pointedly and marched over to where she stood with one of Shadows claws in her arms, “c'mon you’re waaaay smarter than this”.

Amy punched Sonic on his noodley arm, Shadow didn’t need the blue hedgehog being his cocky or passive right now, she wanted to handle the current situation delicately and Sonic was asking for a bonk with her hammer with that last response.

However he surprised her with the renewal of his last response, “you don’t seriously think I would have come out here if I knew you weren’t here?” Sonic asked

“You would have came for Amy…and the cake” shadow flatly responded as he looked down at the two hedgehog’s”

“I mean yeah” sonic sheepishly rubbed the back of his head “but I wanted to be here for you too, you disappear so often and it’s kinda really hard to find you usually”.

Shadow shrank at that, he may have wanted to keep to himself and be alone, but the declaration that Sonic made began to challenge the beliefs that he was better off in doing that.

“We really are glad you’re here with us Shads, Amy’s the most honest gal I know so don’t even try think she would lie, she know what she means when she says what she does” Sonic reasoned, Amy turned to him and let a warm smile melt on her face, she really did adore him.

“I’m not even mad about those fights we had back then, that move you pulled with your chaos energy was actually kinda sick I’m not gonna lie” Sonic admitted, he truly wasn’t lying “does that move work on robots cause it would really help me out when I’m giving Eggman's robots a good thrashing”.

Shadow was nonplussed, the blue hedgehog really just had a way of confusing the ever living chaos out of him, he couldn’t comprehend why the hero couldn’t hold a grudge. He first thought the blue hedgehog's kindness was all a charade,as for the first couple weeks as he recovered from his injuries sustained from the eclipse cannon incident, Sonic would visit from time to time and in the moment Shadow believed it was to gawk or just see how defeated he’d become. It hit shadow the reason was because Sonic genuinely cared about him.

It overwhelmed Shadow, the non-rational and impulsive part of his brain just wanted to pick Sonic up like a doll and shake him until it satisfied Shadow, he instead lay himself gently on the grass and screamed into the earth.

The trembling from the screeching Shadow did shake Sonic and Amy up a bit as the latter grabbed onto the blue hedgehog for balance, they looked fixedly at the monstrous hedgehog as he finished his muffled shouts onto the earth beneath him. He merely turned his large head towards the two afterwards looking fairly calmer which was much better than the meltdown he was clearly heading towards before.

“Do you feel better?” Amy asked as she unlatched herself from Sonic's waist.

Shadow's eyes swivelled about as he seemed to think the question over, he decided a simple nod would be best to answer.

Amy was glad to hear that, but she felt she was going to undo a bit of that release of emotion with what she was about to ask, though the time for the question seemed appropriate as she couldn’t image when she could next ask him given the chance

“Shadow… back on the ARK, when I found you and asked for your help, what made you change your mind?” She finally inquired, shadows eyes fully opened at the question, Sonic turned to her questionably.

“I mean! Um- you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want, I probably shouldn’t have asked anyway sorry!” She felt embarrassment fill her cheeks as Shadow sat up to look down at her tiny form. She wasn’t sure if it was an ignorant thing to ask, but the way Shadow stared down at her made her feel it was.

He looked away from her, she watched as his chest puffed out from a large inhale then deflated from the exhale he let out. “Someone…” Shadow hesitated for a second before continuing “on the ARK, before everything happened I had someone… a friend”.

Amy and Sonic watched as he carefully picked his words, she regret her question now as the memories Shadow tried to retrieve seemed so painful, yet he persisted “she was stuck on the ARK because of a sickness, but she really loved the earth, she made me love the earth” Amy noted how wistful he looked talking about this part of his life, “when the ARK was raided and she got…hurt, she asked me that when I got to earth, I’d do everything I could to protect it, because good people on earth deserved it… I forgot that” Shadow finished

“so when I asked…” Amy was jarred, beginning to fully understand the impact of what she thought was a small plea to the lizard hedgehog.

Shadow looked beat, it seemed such a confession had taken up most of his mental energy. Amy turned to Sonic who looked just as jarred as she felt, but then he spoke up “man shadow, that’s… a lot”.

Shadow grimaced, he agreed and yet again lay on his front, the poor guy looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him up, no doubt feeling a flurry of emotions at admitting such a thing.

“Hey I don’t know how much this means… but I think you're a good person Shadow” Sonic affirmed.

Amy watched Shadow turn to Sonic, his expression made her want to just explode as she swore she could see the yellow of his sclera grow a bit misty, she couldn’t confirm as he abruptly sat up and rubbed at his gigantic eyes before declaring “I’m gonna go”.

Amy was about to argue as she felt he could use more endearment, she was stopped as Sonic placed a hand to her shoulder “no prob Shads! Why don’t you take some Amy’s snacks with you, you don’t mind do you Ames?” he offered

She realised what he was doing, Shadow did look like he needed some time to himself and Sonic was giving him the perfect out, “oh yeah! Of course not, would you take some for Rouge please, not sure when I’ll be giving her a visit so it’s better if you take them” Amy explained as she left Sonic's side to procure a few treats into a plastic container she brought in case either Sonic or Shadow wanted some cakes to take home. She placed the container into a giant outstretched claw that Shadow bent down to offer.

He rose back to full height and eyed the two little hedgehogs, said two hedgehogs enthusiastically waved as Shadow took a few ground shaking steps away from the picnic spot, he glanced a look back at them and responded with a shy wave of goodbye before promptly chaos controlling to whatever location fit for him to decompress.

Amy felt herself relax, she wanted this picnic to be as perfect as possible and while she hadn’t intended a vent session for Shadow she was actually quite glad it had. It seemed if anyone needed that today it was him, she sat back into her blanket and let out a sigh. However the feeling of relaxation began to get nibbled away by a feeling of confusion, she looked up to see Sonic with an annoyingly large grin, she felt something that would irritate her was about to come out his mouth.

“Man your cakes were just the best today Amy” he complimented, maybe she misjudged, that was very sweet of him-

“Shame Shads didn’t eat any of the strawberry shortcake, you sure it’s just me that hates the stuff?-“

The swift swing of her hammer upon his head promptly shut him up before he could continue on with the slander of her strawberry shortcakes.

————————————————————————

Rouge was having a quiet evening all things considered, she sat In her living room sipping chamomile tea from a mug adorned with the quote “another day another slay”. The peace was not long lasting as she felt a few quakes hit her building before she heard creaks and cracks coming from the top of the roof of the apartment building.

That would have been alarming to most people but Rouge had roommates of sorts, one being a homicidal robot with a dry sense of humour and the other being a 35 foot lizard hedgehog who adored the robot's dry sense of humour. She knew the commotion was caused by the latter, she had asked him to not teleport directly on the roof so it caused minor irritation to her when he had just done so again.

She made her way out of the apartment to find the set of stairs that allowed access to the roof, Shadow wasn’t one to just forget her boundaries so she hoped everything was alright with the monstrous hedgehog.

When she opened the old squeaky door that led to the cooling air of outside, she was met with Shadow curled up into a near ball, he needed to curl as the roof didn’t have much space for him to occupy when he spent his time there, the strength of the apartment complex held out well with his weight surprisingly. His quills and scales were a little bristled so she could assume the outing she badgered him to go on may have gone sideways.

She had hoped getting him to interact with others would open up the gruff exterior he led on with, but during the months she had spent with Shadow, it opened her up to many sides of the lizard hedgehog he had yet to share with anyone excluding Omega of course. He obviously didn’t owe anyone information about himself but nonetheless she felt it would be good for him.

Rouge apprehensively approached the massive being in front of her, he was breathing softly and had his arms held to himself, something she noted he did to self soothe, “Hiya hun” she called. He rolled over to address her, looking absolutely exhausted. Whatever limited social battery she saw him with this morning was practically begging for mercy at this point.

“Picnic go well? Did you have a good time?” She asked, she didn’t mean to mother him but she couldn’t help the sense of responsibility she had over him now, the gigantic face displayed to her scrunched up in thought before he let out a noncommittal noise that sounded like a “eh” to her.

Rouge deduced he was nonverbal at this point, he tended to become so when he was overstimulated. “No prob hun, you wanna talk about it tomorrow?” She asked.

His eyes silently thanked her for the out in any more talking, he gave her a firm nod that indicated there would probably be a lot to talk about tomorrow, that was fine. She sipped a bit of her tea and looked at the sun setting before them, “do you want me to stay?”

Shadow thought it over for a moment, he was really tired of talking and interaction but for some reason, Rouge asking to stay with him after today's events felt different, he looked at her and gave another firm nod. The bat flapped her dark purple wings and landed atop the beast hedgehog's head, he could manage that, he didn’t mind when it was Rouge hanging out on his person.

He thought about the first time she had offered to stay with him, it was past dark and she had no reason to be up on the roof with him. He wasn’t wondering that now.

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #biolizard shadow au #shadow the hedgehog #amy the hedgehog #Amy rose #rouge the bat #my art #my writing

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unluckilylvcky · 3 months

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TMNTherapy Group: Welcome Raphael!

Take caution! From the tranquil environment of the Leonardos to the chaotic butting of heads of the Raphaels. Yup, what else can you expect from them? If you put a bunch of wise guys and hotheads together in a room, there's bound to be some form of chaos! Well, with one exception of course.

What is TMNTherapy Group about?

Teenage Mutant Ninja Therapy Group, or simply abbreviated to TMNTherapy Group or TMNT Group, is a fun little comic featuring your favorite turtles from all current running cartoon iterations joining together to, well... Get therapy! Or at least, that's what the turtles from the 1987 universe say. In OOC terms, yes, this is basically a crossover au.

Currently, the AU has 5 introduction comics (including this one), 1 filler comic and many more fun and angsty comics to come! Join the '87 verse turtles as they try their best to unite these 3 VERY different turtle iterations with each other! It's gonna be an... Interesting ride, to say the least. Stay tuned!

DO NOTE THAT :

This AU is strictly for fun and is only meant to explore the dynamic of each turtle iterations with each other! Nothing more, nothing less, just all 4 generations of turtles either venting to each other or having fun. None of this is meant to be reflective of real life scenarios, anything of the latter is completely unintentional.

This was posted on Instagram during November 18th of last year!

Thought I should mention: The lineart quality for this AU is LARGELY inconsistent. I really just wanna have fun with this au so sometimes you're gonna see some clean and cool lineart, but mostly you're gonna have to deal with my sketchy lineart like in this comic haha

Seeing as Instagram is my main platform, you'll have to keep in mind that this format was made with the square format in mind. Stick with me here hehe :^))

<<< Previous: TMNTherapy Group: Welcome Leonardo!

Next up: TMNTherapy Group: Welcome Donatello! >>>

Bonus Comic :

#tmnt group au #tmnt 2018 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 1987 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rottmnt #artists on tumblr #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 1987

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polarspaz · 7 months

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Carrion AU Updated Tidbits

So here's a HUGE info dump for the AU, and some minor adjustments to the lore.

-When Tim was a child, he was severely neglected by his parents. They had no interest in him and let the nannies do all of the care taking, and sadly, Tim was fine with that, until he started getting sick.

The nannies that took care of him were suddenly gone, and his parents became obsessed with him eating all of his food, especially dinner, but the more he ate, the worst he got, and Tim wasn't an idiot.

He knew the food was the real reason he was becoming so ill, so when his parents left the house, he studied. He researched poisons, searched through the house for information and clues, and finally found the truth.

The insurance plan filed under his name, the threatening letters from the mob, and even the bottle of poison his parents were using to coat his meals, all pointed to one single truth. His parents were going to kill him. They needed money from the insurance company to pay off the mob and his death would give them just that.

A few night's later, Tim secretly watched his mother make dinner and saw her pour a deadly amount of poison into his meal. Tim's tiny heart hammered against his chest, and one resounding thought echoed in his 7 year old mind, I don't want to die.

So he crept past his mother and towards the wine glasses, pulled out a small vile and dumped it's contents into both drinks. He then went to the dinning table and sat down quietly, his hands shaking the entire time.

Five minutes later and he was still there, trembling. Both his of parents were dead on the floor.

-----

Gotham is divided into two parts, The Gilded Square, and the Chaos Circle. The Gilded Square is the upper center part of Gotham, where Batman and the police force have complete control. This is were the majority of citizens live and where Wayne Tower and Manor are located.

The Chaos Circle covers the entire area outside the Gilded Square and encompasses most of Gotham. Here, there is no law, criminals run wild and their numbers are immense. The worst felons from all over the country are sent here, and psychopaths like the Joker rule the streets.

-Batman does not like killing, but he will do it if he has to. The sheer amount of chaos he has to fight against has brought him to this point. Still, it's a last resort option, and he still won't use guns.

-The rest of the Batfamily try to follow this rule but there are times when it's broken. Jason likes to use guns and has no problem with offing more people than necessary. Dick gets extremely violent when he finds hurt kids. Damian meanwhile thinks torture should be implemented into their cause. Stephanie likes shoving fireworks into unethical places, like eyeballs, and then there's Tim.

-Tim, who likes to make drugs that cause people to claw into their skin so they can dig out the spiders hiding inside their veins. To say Bruce has his hands full in this AU, is an understatement.

#carrionau #dc comics #tidbits

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madaqueue · 3 months

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eternally, yours

chapter 6 | innocence

synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.

pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff, smut. language, religious imagery, mentions of parental loss. degradation (slut, whore), fingering, p in v (doggy). 18+, MDNI

word count: 5.6k

a/n: GUYS I FINISHED THE SEMESTER YAYYY !!!! i can finally pour all of my thoughts into silly little writing instead of memorizing medication names lmao

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

In the winter, Choso came alive. The darkness that falls allows his own light to shine, at peace in the cold air encompassing his skin, chilling the world to its core - but not him.

After your conversation about his true nature, you feel even more comfortable with him, bridging the gap between you with trust, a path you now dare to walk; things have changed, but you couldn’t imagine going back to how they were before. In his honesty you uncovered a new piece of his soul, slowly working to complete the patched-together mosaic of his past.

He easily weaves his way into your life, the golden thread of his presence in every moment, every memory. When the first snow falls, you and Choso pull Megumi and Yuji out of school, taking them through town. The serenity of winter falls over the four of you as you walk in silence through the white-coated sidewalks. Both boys sip their hot chocolate, the heat warming their bodies as their small hands grip the cups. When Megumi’s whines of, “I’m tiredddd,” fill the air, Choso picks him up, carrying him the rest of the walk on his back.

A warm comfort fills you, a pleasant calmness within your soul, as you watch the pair before you. Your life - and certainly Megumi’s - hadn’t been easy. The loss of your parents spiraled you into instability, a constant earthquake beneath you as you both struggled to find your footing in the world. The moment the chaos seemed to lull there was another shockwave, sending you both reeling. But now, with Choso’s firm grasp around Megumi’s legs as he rests against him, it seems like things have finally settled into place.

Small fingers return your thoughts to the present as Yuji tugs at your coat. “Hey,” he whispers, a devilish smile pushing up his rosy cheeks, “throw this.”

Cold ice is suddenly shoved into your hand as he passes you a loosely formed snowball. Mischief crackles between the two of you as you grin, fingers closing around the snow. Flashing a wink at the boy, you plant your feet, readying your throw.

“Hey, Cho,” you call coyly.

The moment he turns around, your arm swings, launching the snowball at him, hitting him square in the chest. Before he can even react, Megumi squeals in excitement, a new energy bubbling inside him as his arms wrap around Choso’s neck.

“Oh no you didn’t,” Choso laughs in shock, tightening his grasp on your brother as he runs to a snowbank on the opposite side of the road. Ducking behind it for cover, he releases Megumi onto the ground. “Okay buddy, we gotta get them back,” he states. “How’s your aim?”

Megumi beams, any hint of tiredness behind his green eyes dissipated as his hands form the nearby snow into a rough sphere. “It’s amazing,” he giggles.

While Choso and Megumi hide behind the pile of snow, you and Yuji take the opportunity to build up your arsenal, preforming icy grenades and stockpiling them beside you. In unison, Choso and Megumi appear from behind their hiding spot, a flurry of white being suddenly hurled in your direction.

“Yuji, now!” you yell through giggles as you return fire, an onslaught of snowballs tossed at the two across the street.

“Truce, truce!” Choso finally proclaims, stepping out from their protective shelter with his hands raised, Megumi standing behind him with a grin plastered on his face as he matches the older man’s motions, his palms held in the air.

Laughs echo through the otherwise empty streets, leaving the four of you soaked and cold as the heat of battle dies down. Continuing your path towards home, Megumi returns to his place on Choso’s back as Yuji tightly holds your hand. Despite the cool winter air, your heart is warm.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

As winter settles, Choso’s presence continues to grow, settling into the roots of your life. Which is why it’s no surprise that as Megumi’s birthday approaches, your brother absolutely insists on inviting Yuji and Choso, his pleas more of a demand than a request as he scribbles out a handwritten invitation addressed to both of them.

When the day of his celebration arrives, Choso finds himself in your apartment as you prepare to entertain twenty children. He’s busy in the kitchen, whipping up the cake Megumi requested to be “the most chocolatey chocolate with even more chocolate” while you tack streamers to the wall.

He maneuvers around your space easily, having grown familiar with it over the past few months - you’ve seen each other at least weekly, sneaking in visits between his work, even if it meant he’d come over just to hold you while you slept before he had to quietly sneak out to make another shift in the morning. He’s truly grateful for his body’s lack of a need for sleep despite the drawbacks intertwined in his vampirism, namely the ever-increasing frequency at which he consumes blood bags. Yet, it’s a trade he willingly makes if it means he’s graced with your presence. So, he takes all the time with you he can get. Every moment with him becomes cherished, a slowly growing gallery of your memories together. From the first day you met you felt at ease in his presence, your comfort only growing as the seconds together turned to hours, days, weeks, to months.

“Hey, could you c’mere for a second?” His deep voice tugs you back to the present as he beckons you to the kitchen.

In front of him lies a glass bowl, currently housing a chocolatey concoction. He takes the whisk he had been mixing with, gathering some of the batter and holding it out to you. Collecting some of the liquid on your finger you place it onto your tongue, sweetness immediately overtaking your senses.

“Holy shit, this is delicious, Cho,” you murmur in awe, licking your lips.

Immediately you poke your finger into the mixture, grabbing another glob before you shove it between your lips.

A smile graces his lips before he smacks your hand away as you reach back towards the bowl. “Thank you,” he chuckles, “but save some for the cake.”

You can’t help but laugh as he continues swatting away your attempts to maneuver your hands around his, ultimately forfeiting as you reach your hands around his waist and pull him into a hug. “I didn’t know you knew how to bake,” you hum, leaning up to place a kiss to his lips.

A hint of chocolate lingers on your tongue as you lean into him, his palms finding your back as he pulls you closer.

“You think I lived this long without picking up a few skills?” he smirks, amusement lacing his tone before pressing his lips back to yours.

Upon your confirmation that his work was sufficiently appetizing, he pours the dark batter into a pan and slides it into the oven. Gliding into the living room, Choso assists you in hanging up the remaining decorations, his height easily granting him access to nail the hand-made ‘Happy Birthday Megumi’ sign you two constructed the night prior into the wall.

Plopping down on your couch, you both alternate blowing up and tying balloons until they cover your floor. By the time you’ve finished, your apartment certainly looks festive, covered in various shades of green, Megumi’s favorite color, along with printed posters of his chosen dinosaurs.

There’s a certain innocence to it, a childlike wonder that fills your chest in warmth. When you were his age, your mom was trying to take care of you by herself - you knew she worked hard, that she’d give anything for you. And sure, that knowledge helps ease you now, but as a seven-year-old it felt impossible to grasp, like she was always just out of your reach. So it was no surprise you never had parties, never were celebrated like this; she felt ashamed of the life she provided you, an implicit knowledge that her work wasn’t enough.

She never asked you to care for yourself, but how could you not? When she’d come home late, exhausted, of course you learned to cook dinner; when she’d have to pick up extra shifts on the weekends, of course you learned to entertain yourself; and when she got called in on your birthday, despite the card she left on the table, despite the love she meant to shower you in, of course you learned to celebrate yourself.

It wasn’t her fault, really. She wanted a better life for you than the one you were granted, and you couldn’t fault her for that. You certainly couldn’t fault her for giving into the promises your father whispered to her when he returned to your life, promises of protection, prosperity, family. She craved it as much as you did, the safety of being cared for by another. And you couldn’t fault her when he left, again, the day she found out she was pregnant with Megumi.

Maybe it was too much for him, maybe he didn’t feel like he was ready, like he could provide what you needed, fill the hole that was left in your life where innocence should be. All you could hope is that Megumi never felt that; he deserved a childhood, he deserved the love you had to learn to give yourself.

As you stand back to admire the work you and Choso completed, banners coating the ceiling, balloons covering the floor, the scent of chocolate wafting through the kitchen, you can’t help but smile.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Children’s laughter fills the air, Megumi’s the brightest of all. He bounces between friends, smiling wide enough his cheeks hurt as he converses and plays. Every so often he runs up to you, face flushed in excitement, chanting “thank you, thank you, thank you!” as he throws his arms around you before returning to the chorus of his name from where his classmates sit on the floor.

Seated on one of the chairs surrounding your dining room table, a smile rests on Choso’s face seeing you interact with your brother, seeing how you care for him. Yuji is obviously ecstatic to be spending the party with his best friend, Megumi’s excitement similarly bouncing off him as he unwraps his presents. Choso hasn’t seen Yuji this happy - shit, ever? He can’t even remember the last time he’s seen him laugh like this, with such ease. Yuji had always been energetic, his happiness infectious, but he often seemed preoccupied with the emotions of others, worrying about what he could do to make them happy. At times Choso found himself thinking he was almost too mature for a child, too aware of the pain of the world, as though he was born with the duty to alleviate it. Which is why, as he watches his younger brother throw his head back in laughter, his pink hair catching the sunlight filtering in through the blinds as his cheeks blush a similar hue from the warmth of his joy, he admires the pure happiness in it, an untainted innocence.

When it comes time to sing ‘happy birthday,’ Megumi manages to blow out all seven candles in one sweeping breath, cheers erupting from his friends. Locking eyes with Choso, you exchange grins from across the room.

There’s a certain tenderness behind his gaze, one that makes your heart flutter. Something in your soul draws you to him, taking every opportunity for the rest of the afternoon to saunter past him, fingertips gently gracing his collarbone or the back of his neck. At every touch his eyelashes flutter, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips - your motions come second-nature, easy, as though being near him was your natural state of being. When the kids are off in the other room as they play with some new game Megumi got, you can’t stop yourself from caressing him, your lips leaving gentle kisses along his neck as you whisper how grateful you are he’s here, how lucky you are to have him, how stunning he is, how handsome, how sweet.

When your palms linger, your breath grazing his neck, a new flame ignites within him. In your flowy pink sundress, a reminder of the warmth of summer despite the flurries of snow falling outside, you look absolutely perfect, your movements so fluid, your skin so soft. Each stroke of your fingers along his arm makes him long for more, his adoration threatening to overflow, his love for you nearly enough to drown him.

Eventually, the party begins to dwindle. Yuji and Megumi leave together, taking Sukuna up on his offer to host the boys for a sleepover. Standing in the kitchen, you begin to clean up the mess left behind by the dozens of children that have finally cleared out from your apartment, a comfortable silence settling in. Suddenly you feel Choso’s arms wrapping around your waist from behind, his warm breath hitting your skin as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Hi, Cho,” you purr, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair.

“Been thinkin’ about you all night,” he hums, never lifting his head from between your shoulder.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, beginning to trail wet kisses up your neck. He’s not sure what comes over him, normally proud of his self-control, but something in watching you with Megumi has his heart swelling; beyond that, your lingering touches throughout the night, the sly smiles, the sweet nothings you whispered when nobody was listening, has had his mind fuzzy for hours. “Been thinkin’ about how bad I need you…” he trails off before he leans forward, his words carrying a certain desperation.

You giggle as his hands slowly make their way over your body, your heart beating in excitement at just how hot and bothered you had managed to get him. “Is that all, baby?” you taunt through a devious grin.

Slightly arching your back, your hips grind against him, evoking a low groan from his throat. The words are spilling out before he can stop himself. “Was thinkin’ about how much of a fuckin’ tease you are.”

A shiver runs up your spine at the gruffness in his voice, desire beginning to build in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you smirk, tilting your head to give him more space as he continues working his lips across your skin.

“I think you do.” His palms snake around your body, brushing under your dress as his fingertips drag along the outline of your clothed pussy. Even through your panties, the coolness of his skin makes you shiver, leaning back further into his touch. His lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he feels just how wet you are. “Because you can lie to me, but this cunt can’t.”

Heat floods your cheeks - he never acts like this, the unabashed directness - and hearing his crude words only emphasizes how absolutely and utterly desperate he is for you right now. He can feel it too, his standard eloquence gone as he falls deeper into the trance of his lust, one you had been slowly lulling him into over the past few hours.

A soft moan leaves your lips as his thumb brushes over your clit through your now-soaked panties, your knuckles turning white as your grip on the counter stiffens. His free hand tightens its hold on your hip, allowing him to press his growing erection against you through his jeans.

“I think you’re just needy,” you weakly hum as his thumb picks up its pace, rubbing agonizingly slow circles over your bud.

A low chuckle rumbles through Choso’s throat, a certain darkness to it you can’t see but can certainly feel. “Oh, I’m needy?”

The moment you open your mouth to reply, any sound dies in your throat as he suddenly pulls your panties to the side and inserts his middle finger into you. A choked “a-ah mmm” falls from your lips as he languidly pumps his hand in and out of your heat.

Grinding down onto his palm, desperate for any additional friction, your body knows that it’s not enough. “M-more,” you whimper, mindlessly circling your hips in an attempt to drive him deeper.

All Choso does is laugh, a breathy deepness to it that has knots forming in your stomach. Every motion is too slow, as though he’s purposely avoiding grazing his fingertips against the one spot that would have your legs shaking. “More?” he taunts, clearly taking pleasure from seeing you squirm. “I thought I was the one being needy, hm?”

“Cho, please,” you pant, eyes screwed shut. It’s nearly tortuous the way he moves, some cosmic retribution for how you had tempted him throughout the night, the universal scale finally tipping in his favor.

“Please what, darling? If you’re going to be so demanding, at least use your words.”

“I-I want your cock in me, please,” you stammer - you intended it to come out much more commanding, more in control, but the words end up breathy and desperate.

Again, Choso chuckles from behind you. Before you can process it, the sound of his zipper being undone lands on your ears as cold air hits your heat, your panties ripped down to your knees. The tip of his cock slides against your wet folds, making your hips rut backwards reflexively, a carnal plea.

“Tch, needy little thing,” he mutters to himself as you writhe under his grasp, your body now pressed between his chest and the counter from where you still stand in the kitchen.

After what feels like an eternity he finally slides into you, an involuntary moan leaving your lips as he stretches your walls so sinfully. His palms hold you firmly in place, preventing any movement as he bottoms out. But instead of moving, he stills, returning his lips to your neck and gently sucking on the space above your collarbone.

“C-Cho?”

“Mhm?” he hums, not bothering to lift his head from where he rests against your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” The words sound pitifully close to a whimper as they leave your throat.

“I’m doing what you asked, love, remember?”

Electricity courses through your body, your breathing picking up as desperation threatens to consume you. You can barely think straight with his cock inside you like this, his hips pressed against your ass; it’s so close to what you need, your salvation, yet for some reason he refuses.

Your feeble attempt at grinding your hips backwards fails as his hold on your hips tightens. “Sorry baby, but I wouldn’t want to risk doing anything else, since I was being so needy earlier,” he muses sarcastically.

A whine leaves your lips, your skin hot in lust. He’s punishing you, he has to be, pulling you from the heights of heaven into the ground until you feel dirtied in sin, left begging for more.

“Please, Cho, just move,” you breathe. “Move, fuck me, anything, please.”

“Aw, how sweet,” he coos, trailing kisses up your jaw. Your cheeks burn red beneath his cool lips, yet his breath is hot as it fans across your face. “Didn’t know this was all it took to have you begging like a needy slut.”

A wave of heat courses through your body, pussy clenching around his cock as the words hit your ears. Something in them has your mind dizzy, tension already building in your core.

“Holy shit,” Choso chuckles in awe as he feels the way your body automatically reacts, “you like that, huh?” His mind races, words spilling out. “Like being fucked in the kitchen like a whore? Couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, y’had to get dicked down out here?”

Another tsunami of pleasure crashes over you, your thoughts clouding and legs beginning to shake. A weak “mhm,” the sound already close to a whimper, is the only response you can muster.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, “you’re clenchin’ around me like you’re gonna cum already.” He suddenly adjusts, moving one hand up to grab your jaw and turn you to face him over your shoulder. Slowly your gaze manages to focus on him, the sight of your glassy eyes enough to make his cock twitch inside you. “Don’t worry, I know a depraved slut like you can take it.”

He can’t hold back any longer, finally pulling his hips back before roughly thrusting into you. After so long of teasing you, when his length finally prods against your walls, your eyes roll into your skull, a weak moan vibrating past your parted lips.

As he repeats the motion he tightens his hold on your jaw, pulling you into a rough kiss. His tongue swipes against yours fervently as his pelvis smacks against your ass. Gone is his precision, his reservations - all he knows is a feral need for you.

Moaning into each other’s mouths, he pumps into you. If it wasn’t for his tight grasp around your waist your legs surely would have given out by now, the ecstasy overcoming every muscle, every cell, within your body.

Pulling away for a moment a string of saliva connects your lips as he gazes into your eyes, their normal hue now nearly black through blown-out pupils. He looks equally fucked out, his bangs sticking to his sweat-coated forehead, cheeks flushed a soft pink.

A rough hand reaches over to your neck, the other trailing down your back, pushing you into a sinfully deep arch with your forearms braced against the cool marble of the counter. “C’mon baby, I know - hah - I know you can do better than that,” he breathes. Rising your hips slightly further off the ground, a guttural groan vibrates his throat. “Uh huh, juuuust like that.”

“S-so deep, Cho,” you whine out, overtaken at the sensation brought on by the new angle, his length absolutely ravishing your insides.

“Know it’s deep, baby,” he coos, “but y’can take it, yeah?” Bring a palm to your stomach, he finds the spot where his tip presses through your skin. “Feel me right here?”

All you can do is loosely nod, knees buckling under the pleasure, immensely grateful for the tight hold of his other hand on your hip and the table for providing a shred of stability.

His actions are greedy, thighs clenching with each pump into you. Grasping at the path to heaven, he claws his way up the stairs until the gates stand before him. Each thrust another step towards salvation, each choked moan a call for redemption. He’s never felt such electric desire, an insatiable need to consume every ounce of you.

The lewd sound of skin on skin fills your otherwise empty kitchen before being broken by Choso’s deep rasp. “You’re all mine, y’know that?”

Your thoughts are slow, too focused on the burning pleasure to give a more coherent response than a weak, “mhm.”

It’s enough for him, though, the affirmation sending waves of warmth through his body. As your bodies meld into one, he knows it: you are his, and he is yours.

His motions become increasingly erratic as he pulls you both closer and closer into the height of ecstasy. Faint little repeats of ‘ah, ah’ leave your throat with each thrust, knocking the air from your lungs each time his cock hits deeper. Your chest heaves with each forceful breath, unable to move your gaze from his.

He can tell you’re getting close as he leans forward, angling his cock somehow further into you. His words slur together, his standard clarity muddied. “Y’gonna make a mess? Y’gonna cum f’me?”

You whine a soft “mmm”, his voice making it harder and harder to form full sentences. All of your nerves are on fire, heat building and building within your chest as your walls begin to clench around him.

A smirk plays across his face as he murmurs, “Gonna let me finish inside you? Let me fill up this filthy cunt?”

All you can choke out is a weak cry of “p-please,” the combination of his words and actions enough to throw you over the edge. Tidal waves of bliss wash over you again and again and again, your legs shaking beneath you - certainly they’ve now given out as Choso takes over carrying your body weight. As your cunt flutters along his length he loses himself, pumping thick ropes of seed into you as he buries his head into your neck to muffle his whines.

Both of you are left panting, your head falling forward in exhaustion as his arms wrap around your torso to hold you up. In contrast to the roughness of his body just moments prior, he peppers gentle kisses along neck, your collarbone, any inch of skin he can find.

His breathing finally slows enough to speak. “Y’know I don’t actually think you’re a slut or anything, right?” he asks hesitantly.

A soft giggle bubbles from your lips into the now still air of your apartment. “I know, Cho.” Turning to face him, you see an earnestness behind his gaze, full of endearment. Leaning up you place a peck to his cheek as you ruffle his now-messy hair, your fingertips trailing over the contours of his jawline. “And for the record,” you slowly kiss him before pulling away, “there’s nothing wrong with being a little needy.”

“I know,” he blushes, a bashful grin tugging at the corners of his lips, “I just…sometimes I feel like I don’t know what to do with all the love I have for you. It feels like it’s eating me from the inside but I just keep feeding it more and more and more until there’s nothing left of me in there. But honestly, I don’t even mind - I’d happily give myself to you every day until the end of time if it means you’ll be happy.” Pausing, he shifts uncomfortably before sighing. “See? Like that, I didn’t mean to ramble, or get so serious, I just-”

Cutting off his nervousness, you press your lips to his, hands cupping his firm jaw. Warmth blankets your skin as you melt into his touch. Pulling you in closer, your body melds to his, souls blending.

“I love you,” you murmur into his parted mouth, “so much.”

“I love you too,” he whispers.

Pulling away you lean back against the counter, a soft smile plastered across your features as he gingerly lifts your panties back into place. “Now, will you help me actually clean up from the party?”

Choso grins, reaching down to pick you up as your legs wrap around his torso through a surprised squeal. “Of course,” he laughs as he spins you around, “just let me clean up my beautiful girl first.” Carrying you down the hallway, your shared giggles echo through your apartment.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Days continue to shorten as the cold bite of winter settles, now a familiar gnawing inside your chest whenever you find yourself outside in the darkness of late December. Choso, of course, remains unbothered by the cold, consistently offering you jackets or mittens or anything he can think of to share warmth with you during your limited outings. Instead, the two of you find yourselves inside more and more, spending nearly every free moment together wrapped in blankets on your couch. Since Yuji and Megumi began their winter break from school, you take the opportunity to celebrate the close of the prior year with the four of you in your apartment.

New Years celebrations were never something you thought much of, often brushed aside as an afterthought. What is there to celebrate, anyways? The passage of time? The chronic aging? The loss, pain, and sadness of the past twelve months? The idea never made sense to you until now, when you finally have others to share the moment with.

Which is why, on December 31st, you find yourself drumming with excitement. Megumi and Yuji’s shared energy certainly has something to do with it, you think, as the duo runs from room to room, verbally reporting how many hours, minutes, and seconds remain until midnight.

Choso tries to follow them before their unending enthusiasm becomes too much for even him, opting to lay on the couch next to you until the boys tire themselves out. When they finally return to you, panting through grins, Choso takes the opportunity to share the New Year’s traditions he has collected over his lifetime (one he never explicitly specifies the duration of in front of Megumi and Yuji, of course).

He details superstitions, their corresponding tales captivating you and the boys as his eyes glimmer in recollection. The four of you attentively eat your soba, giggling under your kitchen counter as you pop grapes into your mouths, and silently wrap coins in tinfoil before placing them outside on your balcony. The magic behind the motions fills you with glee, a shared belief that your behavior can finally be doing something good.

Around 9:50 p.m., you find yourself on the couch, Choso sprawled on the opposite side with Yuji and Megumi lying between you. The boys’ eyes grow tired, slow blinks growing increasingly longer as a New Year’s Eve countdown plays softly from the television. The announcers are preparing for the actual countdown, one that replays every hour to account for audiences from various time zones. Your gaze meets Choso’s, an idea silently shared between you. Glancing around quickly, you confirm the absence of any visible clocks from the couch before enacting your plan.

Yawning dramatically, you stretch your arms out, garnering the attention of Yuji and Megumi. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s already almost midnight,” you muse, allowing the words to hit the air.

Megumi and Yuji almost immediately perk up, a brief burst of energy as they turn excitedly towards you. “No way, already?” Yuji squeals excitedly before grabbing Megumi’s shoulders. “We made it, we stayed up!”

Megumi giggles, overjoyed at their shared accomplishment.

“You sure did,” Choso’s deep voice fills your apartment as he smiles. “Look, they’re about to start counting down,” he observes as his gaze falls to the TV.

The boys cheer in excitement, Megumi’s hands clapping joyously as they attentively watch the numbers flashing across the screen. “Ten, nine, eight,” they begin.

You and Choso join in, chanting with them. “Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!”

Cheerful laughter erupts from the four of you as Megumi runs to you, wrapping his small arms around your body in the tightest hug he can manage. Yuji follows similarly, launching himself at Choso as he catches him on his lap.

“Happy new year,” Megumi murmurs into you through a soft grin, his futile fight against sleep becoming increasingly challenging with each passing second.

“Happy new year, buddy,” you smile, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “Now, let’s get you guys to bed, hm?”

“Okay,” he hums, resting his head against you as his eyes flutter closed. Looking across the couch, you see Yuji out cold against Choso. As his eyes meet yours, you both smile contentedly.

Tucking the boys into their makeshift beds on the couch, you and Choso retire to your bedroom. Illuminated by warm lamplight, his dark eyes seem to sparkle as they flit across your face. Cool fingers trace small patterns along your back as his other hand absentmindedly plays with your hair, the comforter soft beneath your skin.

The remaining hours to midnight pass easily, and before you know it the sound of fireworks breaks the tranquil silence you found yourselves in. Glancing to the clock resting upon your bedside table, a bright “12:00” shines into the darkness of your room.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Under the flashing lights of fireworks you seem to glow, absolutely radiating beauty. Choso similarly had never understood the point of celebrating the closure of a year, the date one that primarily signified nothing more than the passage of time. Throughout his extended life he had been forced to watch those he loved pass away, plagued with the finality of senescence. Each year more lights went out, in spite of his best efforts to keep them illuminated, to prolong their flames; yet, every time, his attempts remained futile.

Over time, he detached himself, as though ignorance could protect him from the unrelenting march of time. He willingly purged his mind of dates that served to remind him, forgetting his own birthday, the anniversary of his family’s death, anything that recalled the tortured memories of his past. Maybe if he could remove himself from his own existence it wouldn’t be as painful when he was forced to confront the loss of others’.

Yet, as your eyelashes flutter, your cheeks pushed up as you softly grin, the smooth skin of your fingertips tracing his collarbone, he’s overcome with the notion that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. Every moment with you seems to slow, the seconds stretching as he silently gazes at you. In all his years he had never felt like this, this alive. Finally, he found something worth looking forward to, the fire of his love bright enough to warm you both.

The crackle of fireworks returns his attention to the present, adoration flowing from his very soul. “Happy new year,” he whispers.

“Happy new year, my love,” you hum.

Placing your lips to his, he kisses you gently, a newfound tenderness in his actions. He’s unhurried, patient, allowing every second to slowly pass you by.

Falling into a comfortable sleep, your thoughts wander to all the things the future holds, the moments you have yet to experience. All the time you’ll get to spend with Choso. Yet, you can’t seem to shake the nagging fear in the back of your mind, the whisper of darkness clouding your peace. How many more years do you have left? When will your flame go out?

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celenawrites · 2 months

Text

After Hours: CH2 — It's Friday then…

Pairing - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader, previous! Phillip Graves x F!Reader

Warnings - Office AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Sexting, Praise Kink, Dry Humor, etc.

Summary -

Life has been out to get you ever since you found your ex cheating on you. To add salt to your wounds, your beloved pet dog goes missing while you try to recover from your nasty breakup and your company has been overloading you with piles and piles of paperwork you can never seem to finish; along with a bunch of babbling interns who can never take a hint when it comes to shutting the fuck up, along with a scary, firm-handed supervisor who seems oddly interested in getting to know you better, despite your reluctance.

Chapter Summary -

Your week cannot get any better (or any worse).

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<- Chapter 1

Your day comes to an end with relatively no new disasters springing up on you.

The lack of chaos almost has you suspicious, but you overlook it in favor of clocking out earlier than usual, which is a good half an hour after almost everybody has left the office. You are quick to email all the edited files to Joseph, leaning back in your weary chair as you end your day with a pained groan. About time you get that memory foam mattress, you think to yourself as you clean up your workstation and call it a day.

Your black pump heels click against the smooth marble floor as you try your best to join the world outside the gray confines of your company walls. The usual path consists of making an obligatory patrol across the west wing of the building, checking in to ensure nothing was amiss before taking the elevator down to the ground floor and punching out by tapping your ID at a weird angle on the automatic scanner.

The west wing seems to be almost empty, save for the dim glow of an active computer at the very back of the technical staff room.

You rarely paid this place a visit, mainly burdened by your duty to keep the office running and putting out all dumpster fires Price cannot deal with. The few times you have been here has been solely due to your need to share lunch with Johnny on relatively slower days.

With quiet apprehension, you walk towards the object of your attention - only to find Simon hunched over his desk, with squinting eyes as the screen is reflected in his square blue glasses. Underdressed is a word that seems to describe his style - unbothered enough to never dress up when he has to show up for work, you find the man slouching in his chair while wearing a frayed beige hoodie with some gray sweatpants that make it almost impossible for you to look at him without feeling your cheeks heat up in mortification.

Clearing your throat to grab his attention, you meekly meet his dark eyes as you inquire, “Not going home today?”

He shakes his head, almost as if he’s waking up from a nap and you almost find him endearing in this moment. He responds, “No, have some work. Will lock up and leave in an hour.”

“Okay.”

Silence follows your short dialogues with the senior staff member, making you tap your foot against the floor thrice in order to comfort yourself before you offer him, “I can make you another brew. Should last you until you finish your work.”

He averts his eyes away from the screen and looks at you again, and you feel yourself shrink under his inspection - almost like a timid bunny. You can see him contemplate your offer seriously for a moment before shaking his head.

“Don’t bother, I haven’t got much left here anyway.”

“Oh, okay.”

That is all you can manage to tell him before you leave the room, eager to just crash on your awful bed and end your day early.

The calm that has befallen your office has you on edge, for you are not accustomed to spending your days without being forced to juggle Herculean tasks every hour of your work day.

Even when you’re on edge with it, you come to appreciate how the almost sluggishness of days filled with nothingness allowed you to just be. A sudden breather in your busy life, one that you appreciated very much.

Of course, as life would have it, it all comes crashing down Friday morning once you check into the office and find Gracie, a new intern, pacing near your desk back and forth. The moment she spots you she corners you against your workstation, frazzled as she plays with the threads of her sweater sleeve, unraveling just like her.

“It’s all gone to hell, I tell you!” she tells you, before quieting down as she realizes how loud she’s being. She whispers to you, “It’s a hellhole and all because of him!”

You find yourself awfully confused by her crypticism, so you ask her to elaborate - already preparing yourself to add another petty matter into your long list of events to attend to. Fridays seem to be unusually long for you solely due to the fact that people seem to either forget to work in their eagerness for the weekend, or some ‘emergency’ pops up when all you’d like to do is drink your coffee, answer some emails and force Price to attend his weekly meeting before he fucks off to who knows where.

“Joseph made a simple mistake. A small one really. We’re interns, for god’s sake! Of course, we’ll be dumb and make mistakes every day. And I don’t know who that man thinks he is, cuz the next thing I know”, Gracie pauses to anxiously chew at her thumb, red hangnails and raw skin evident of the anxiety that’s been plaguing her all morning.

“Next thing I know is Simon’s losing his head over something and he’s chewing us all out for being ‘incompetent fucks’, and he takes it out on all of us. But it hits Joseph the most, and the next thing I know is he hasn’t turned up for work today”, she finishes her anxious ramble, looking at you with doe eyes and you mentally note to check up on Joseph when you have the time.

“Don’t worry, Gracie. He’s probably taking a day off in order to cool down. I’ll talk with him”, you reply to soothe her worries and she looks at you as if you’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky for her.

Her sudden hug catches you off guard, and after profusely thanking you (“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re such a doll!”), she waves you adieu as she exits the floor and you are soon seated on your desk, groaning at the sight of your filled calendar and unanswered emails being reflected on your screen. Joseph will have to wait, you think as you massage your temples - your body betraying you with a migraine for only having iced coffee for breakfast.

You decided to tackle the mountain of unfinished workload, hoping to at least catch the last subway back home before it gets too dark.

After three hours of uninterrupted screen time that made your eyes water and your back creak whenever you shifted in your chair and an hour after having a cold lunch of leftover salad and toasted bread with gummy cheese, you finally find yourself with a few minutes of leeway to finally look for Price. Not just because you wish to talk to him about Joseph, but also due to the pile of unsigned documents you currently carry in your hands that need his immediate approval.

After a few minutes of mindless walking to and fro and asking your co-workers of any sightings of your boss, you finally find him exiting one of the conference rooms located on the upper floors and there’s another man alongside him.

They both seem to be extremely close, and John claps the other man on the back and laughs heartily with him, but you’re too focused on the tip of your shoes to hear their conversation. Everything sounds static to you for now. You blame your anxiety for it.

“Oh, it’s you”, John’s eyes widen slightly in surprise and he mockingly clutches his chest, “You’d give me a heart attack one of these days with how sneaky you are.”

You are just unusually quiet around unfamiliar people. You roll your eyes at him, unamused, “Ha, ha. Quit those cigars and I promise you, your heart and lungs will thank you.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling with radiance.

“You worry about me too much”, gesturing you inside the meeting room, he asks you.

“What brought you here?”

“Well, the project deal with Crofters underwent its final review for the proposal and I needed your approval for them before I gave the team the green light. And there’s some more files that could use your ink”, you point to the stack in your hands and he beckons you to sit in the seat beside him as he takes the pile from you and clicks at his fancy little golden pen, skimming through the documents and signing them.

While he does that, you muster up the courage to talk to him about Joseph. This could’ve been an email, but you decided you owed him that much. Moreover, feeling as if your contribution in ‘proof-reading’ his work could’ve led to him getting unfairly scolded by his superior and his uncle makes your throat dry out constantly.

And there’s only so much water you can drink before you’re forced to take a bathroom break. Or a few.

Clearing out your throat in order to begin talking leads to Price to look up from one of the files, as he eyes you with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Yes?”

You gulp, not being used to ‘complaining’ about one of your coworkers behind their back. You have rarely had any problem with anyone that required you to directly report your higher ups or HR about them. And doing this to Simon, of all people, who has never really troubled you….

“Well, you know Simon can be a bit stern.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you know how he can expect a bit too much from others…”

“I know how Simon is. Please get to the point”, he rubs his eyes, already sighing out in anticipation.

“One of the interns came to me this morning, and she told me that he kind of went off on them for messing up. Things got pretty rough, and another intern hasn’t shown up to work today. So I was a bit worried”, you trail off, hearing John groan audibly in frustration.

“Who’s the intern?”

“Um, it was Joseph.”

He curses, wiping at his forehead with his palm and tucking away stray hair as he tells you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have a talk with Simon. Things have been…tough with him. And he’s only this strict because he wants to believe in the absolute best of people. You check up on Joseph and see that he’s alright.”

“Will do that”, you promptly pick up the signed documents and exit the room, already dialing Joseph on your phone - hoping for him to pick up your call and not ignore you.

You are at your desk and at your third call when someone picks it up.

“Hello?” a nasally congested voice asks, and you sigh out in relief as you inform him it’s you who’s calling him.

“Are you okay, Joseph? Why didn’t you come today?”

“Gracie told you, huh?”

“Yeah, she was worried sick. She’s a sweet girl.”

“Had to take a day off, or I’d have thrown fists at him.”

You don’t know how to react to that. You haven’t expected Joseph to be angry still.

“I get it can be frustrating to work in such a stressful environment, and Simon expects perfection - which may make it all the more harder for you to make mistakes. But I hope you realize that the senior staff genuinely wants to help every intern develop themselves so that they can be ready for the industry after graduation.”

“...”

“It’s okay, take your time. Hopefully you will feel better after the weekend. Take care, Joseph.”

“Goodbye.”

A click. And the call comes to an end.

You exhale through your mouth, not expecting all this to drain you out already.

And you still have four hours to go.

Sitting back at your desk with a hot cup of black coffee, you stir the drink with the wooden stick after dumping a small packet of sugar in it. The afternoon sun is sublime, shining through the windows and getting reflected off of the photo frame you have of you and Butters, kept on the desk to curb your nostalgia of your furred friend.

Almost a week of futility, of just work and no sign of your dog in sight. The police have been essentially useless in the search and you have had to design missing posters to put up around your street and at the dog park you used to go with him, hoping that someone would eventually spot him and bring him back home to you. But still, to no avail.

Sipping on the warm drink, careful to not burn your tongue, you are happy to spend the last two hours of your work day just organizing some things for Monday and playing card games to kill some time - happy to clear up all the major events and tasks before the day ends. You think you might be able to leave a little early for home, planning on getting some takeout for dinner and watching some trashy late night reality TV until you snooze off in your cozy bed.

And then the chatter in the room dies, which is strange as everyone around you has been jovially conversing to make the last hours of the day pass by faster. You look up to see Simon standing in front of you and he looks pissed.

Guess that talk with John did not go well, and this is when you’d tuck your tail and make a run for it - if it wasn’t for Simon already anticipating that and blocking any possible escape for you. Your widened eyes meet his, and he takes it as his cue to go off on you.

“How dare you?” he grits out, his jaw ticked and voice tense with restraint.

“How fucking dare you? The fuck you think you are, going behind my back and bitchin’ to Price?” His voice booms around the room, and the few people who were pretending to be busy with work are now looking at him with unbridled trepidation.

“I-”

“Who are you to say what’s right or wrong?”, he goads you, towering over you with such dark eyes you were scared they’d suck you in and never let you out.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“They’re my interns, and if they fuck up, they better own up to their shit. They’re mine to manage, and your coddling isn’t going to save them either”, he spits out, looking at you with such resentment in his eyes you wonder if Price had said something to tick him off more than usual.

“It’s not your bloody job to mother them, and it sure as hell is not your job to bitch about me. If you have that much of a problem with me, say it to my face and stop being a damn coward about it.”

There’s eyes everywhere, and they’re trained onto the scene Simon has caused with you - and you take a shudder of a breath before getting up and standing to face him head on. Your lip wobbles for a moment, before you look at him and tell him, “You’re a dickhead for this, Simon.”

And with that, you just swiftly leave the office space and make your escape; almost short of running in your block heels as you quickly lock the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it as you wipe away the few tears of frustration that escaped your eyes, careful not to smudge your makeup.

Your life has been a shitshow for the past month or so, and god forbid, you let another man ruin the weekend for you now.

You gently wash your hands and clean up after yourself, deciding on leaving much earlier than usual for a change. There’s no way in hell you will stick around the office after getting humiliated like that. There’s a knock on the door, and Gracie’s there as instructed (by text), holding your purse for you.

She meekly glances at your weary face, and begins, “I heard what happened. Are you okay? I know how much of an ass Simon can be, but he probably didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You decide to not respond to her, not feeling up to the task of psycho-analyzing your colleague and his short temper. That’s not your bloody job.

“Thanks for getting my bag”, you send her off her way after that, and shooting off a quick text to Price, you quietly exit the office - all the more eager to gorge yourself on some takeout, watch TV and get drunk enough to forget that this day happened and ignore all texts and calls you get tonight.

Note -

After a month of inactivity(cuz I was busy interviewing in different places and studying for it) and writer's block, I finally updated. Updates will be sparse, but I will try to be more consistent.

#call of duty #cod:mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost x y/n #call of duty angst #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley smut #char.simon ghost riley #🖇️.after hours #celena.writes

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pinktrashgoblin · 1 year

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All y’all shapes are goofy. What do they have to say for themselves

Tetra has a bit of a temper

#jsab #jsab art #jsab au #just shapes and beats #character asks #art #oh no #fan art #chaos #aaaaaaaaaaaaa #jsab cube #jsab blixer #jsab pentagon #jsab cyan #jsab square #idk what im doing

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604to647 · 4 months

Text

Scherzo (a Barón Tovar Takes a Wife one-shot)

3.1K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader

Scherzo - a short composition – sometimes a movement from a larger work such as a symphony or a sonata

Summary: Your husband takes care of you when you get hurt during your travels.

Warnings: None! All fluff, though reader gets cheeky with her husband cause I mean, it's Pero? Protective!Pero, Soft Husband!Pero (I NEED HIM). A little bit of violence is described where reader gets physically hurt, nothing graphic.

A/N: This was written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge; please see #jettsflora&faunachallenge for all the other amazing works by some wonderful authors (I didn't do much with the meanings of the flowers, was just going for ✨vibes✨ - hope it's okay!). I tend to always miss my babies after I complete their series, and can't help but write little one-shots for them to see what they're up to. This is our Regency couple from Barón Tovar Takes a Wife, but you don't need to read it (although it would be cool if you did - I'm kind of proud of this one 😭) - just know our happy Barón and Baronesa are doing what they love the most, which is travelling on the high seas together.

Beautiful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Truth be told, Naples is not one of Pero’s favourite places to visit in Italy; the Barón much preferred the rolling vineyards of Tuscany or the cultural diversity of Milan. At least it will be a short stay, too short to even arrange for lodging in the city; it was much easier for everyone on the ship to remain staying in their onboard quarters while he oversaw some Royal fleet business with the Italians. It would be just three short weeks before they're set to raise the sails again, this time charting a course up the western Italian coast to the Civitavecchia Port of Rome. He realizes the last time the two of you were in Rome had been when you said your final goodbyes in his youth, parting ways and not meeting again for over ten years; Pero looks forward to strolling the cobblestone streets together once more, this time with you as his bride.

In the meantime, he would try to expedite the matter before him – if the Italian dignitary sitting across from him would acquiesce, perhaps he can still save enough of the day to take you to do some sightseeing before nightfall. Just as the stout man’s mustache twitches at something he’s read on the document Pero gave him, someone bursts into the office, violently banging open the door.

Recognizing one of his trusted footmen, Pero exclaims, “Miguel, could this wait? Signor Romano and I are in the middle of something.”

“No!” cries Miguel, alarmingly, “My apologies, Barón! It is the Baronesa...”

Pero reacts with blinding speed, his chair knocked to the ground from the force with which he stands, “What has happened?!”

“There was a commotion in the square, my lord. Your wife was hur-”

Pero is already out the door, running as fast as he can towards the city square where he knows you and your lady's maid, Lucia, had planned to do some exploring while he was away at meetings. Wind rushing past his ears, he can hear behind him the faint thundering footsteps of Miguel the footman trying to keep up with his master.

When he gets to the square, Pero is stunned to find it in a mild state of chaos – several shops have been vandalized and an overwhelming number people seem to be in a state of mild panic, crying. He scans the crowd and when he finally spots you, he nearly falls to his knees. You’re sitting on the ground next to Lucia who is crying loudly, comforting her the best you can; and while Lucia is clearly emotionally distraught, she appears to be physically unharmed - the same cannot be said for you. Your dress is torn in several places and covered in blood; whose blood Pero does not know, but he realizes, stomach dropping, that some of it at least must be yours when he sees the long bleeding cut down your left forearm. Your beautiful face has at least one messy scrape across your cheek that he can see even at this distance and your lip looks like it’s starting to discolour and swell.

You spot Pero when he is a but few steps away and instantly feel a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of your strong, handsome husband (though you do hate to see the look of panic and terror on his face). Dropping down to your side, Pero immediately cups your face in his warm, bear paw hands, careful not to disturb any of your injuries, “Dulce! How are you?”

You don’t want to tell Pero that your heart is still beating fast from how scared you had felt during the stampede, or how the cuts on your arm and face sting and that your sides and back have started to ache. You know that doing so will only make him feel worse - but you’ve never lied to your husband in all the years you’ve known him so you simply say, truthfully, “Better now that you’re here, Pero.” Melting into the soft tender kiss he presses to your mouth, you try not wince when his soft lips meet your bruised ones but fail miserably. Trying not to shatter in front of you when he hears your pained whimper, Pero wills himself to pull back with a silent reminder to handle you with more care; as he starts to check over your injuries, he asks delicately, “What happened, mi amor?”

One of the sailors who had joined the footmen in accompanying you and Lucia starts to explain before he’s silenced by a glowering look from your husband; Baronesa Tovar is not a woman who needs others to speak for her.

You give the poor sailor a reassuring smile before drawing Pero’s attention back to you and recount for him what happened in the square earlier. Noticing that the Barón's hands have been cold in the mornings as of late, you had headed out today with a mission to purchase your husband some gloves made with the fine leather craftsmanship that the Italians are known for. While admiring the buttery softness of a pair of large leather gloves handed to you by a lovely stall merchant, a fight had broken out across the square between a mob of over twenty large and angry Italian men. The fighting horde continued their bout while moving across the square, barreling into families and unsuspecting people just trying to go about their day. Caught unawares, the pedestrians scattered and ran panicked in an effort to get out the way of the oncoming melee. The fleeing crowd had ran in your direction and you and Lucia could not get out of the way fast enough – pushed down to the ground, in your attempt to shield Lucia as the two of you tried to crawl to the side of the street and away from the mob, your dress had been torn by the flurry of feet as runners stampeded, your body kicked more than once. At one point, someone had produced a pistol and shot at several buildings; and while that effectively ended the fight, several windows had shattered and some of the errant glass had fallen and cut your arm.

Pero feels absolutely sick at the picture his mind conjures of you being physically pushed and kicked, imagining how scared you must have been; he wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and comfort you, but without knowing the extent of your injuries, he settles for pressing his forehead to yours and whispering that everything will be okay now. You believe him.

With some difficulty, Pero helps you stand and brings you back to the ship; both of you agreeing that when the doctor is called, it should be to the safety and comfort of your own quarters. Though ever gentle with you, the fearsome scowl on Pero’s face clears a path from the square down to the docks – the deep furrow of his brow accentuating the faded scar over his left eye, as if to challenge anyone who would get between his wife and her safe haven. Calling out for medical supplies and hot water as soon as he’s onboard, Pero leads you to your chambers and sits you on your shared bed before falling to his knees in front of you. Slumping, tension in his strong frame finally dissolving, Pero lays his head in your lap and lets a few tears fall at the relief of finally getting you back home, safe. You stroke your husband’s soft curls lovingly, understanding all of him and letting his devotion wash over you - it brings you a calm that you haven’t felt for several hours now.

In silence, you let Pero tend to your cuts and scrapes, eyes never leaving his handsome face as you watch him concentrate on being gentle with his big, sometimes clumsy hands. Pero washes your face and hands, wiping away all evidence of the time you spent on the hard stone streets of the square, then takes care to thoroughly clean your injuries. When you hiss at the sting from the salve he applies to the cut on your arm, Pero murmurs, “Be good for me, Baronesa,” and distracts you momentarily from the pain with that sweet smile of his that he knows makes you melt.

Finally comes the point that Pero has been dreading; he undresses you carefully to tend to the injuries on your body, hoping none will be too serious. Once he has you stripped to the barest of your undergarments, he takes in the bruising that’s starting to show on your legs, hips and back and thinks he might cry again; his beautiful wife, so brave and strong – he cannot believe you sustained these injuries and still allowed him to move you about as he has without complaint. As if reading his mind, you run a finger through your husband’s scruff that you love so much and try to lighten his mood; nodding towards your discarded dress on the floor, you joke, “I do not think I will be wearing that dress again.”

Half serious, Pero replies, “I think I will bring it to the Polizia tomorrow, when I demand answers for how they allowed what happened in the square to transpire.”

“Pero.”

“Or we throw it over the side of the ship,” he shrugs, a little bit a light returning back to his eyes when he sees your good humour is unscathed; permitting himself to hold you close, Pero breathes his first calm breath since Miguel interrupted his meeting, inhaling your soft perfume. Seeing Pero in a better mood instantly lifts your spirits, and while in the safety of his loving arms, you give him a playful little wiggle and press your barely clad body to his.

“Dulce,” he warns, voice dipping low at your giggles. To show him it’s just a little bit of teasing, you straighten up immediately and allow Pero to run the warm cloth over your body and finish cleaning you up before dressing in your most modest nightgown without any more shenanigans.

The doctor who is called leaves a short while later, declaring that both you and Lucia will be fine and that a few weeks of lightened activity and rest should heal your injuries without issue. It’s not something you’re looking forward to, but you agree with Pero that for the remainder of your time in Naples, it would be better if you recovered from the safety of the ship.

For the first few days, you enjoy the calm and quiet of your vessel, many of the sailors and staff taking the opportunity to enjoy some leave while docked. But as the days go on, with Pero away for most of the day on business, you find yourself getting restless. You read your books and write your letters. You play your piano and even entreat Lucia and whomever remains onboard to play cards with you. From the ship’s deck you can still see much of the city, and even though you have no particular wish to return on this trip (your experience in the square still too fresh), it unfairly beckons to you like a siren. You’re bored. And despite loving your ship, you’re starting to feel cooped up.

Pero does his best each day to finish up his work as quickly as possible so he can return to you, enjoying the warmth of your company and checking for himself that you’re recovering properly. The Barón brings home delicious treats and pretty trinkets for his wife everyday, leaving no doubt that you’re ever on his mind even when apart. And while you love your husband dearly for his thoughtfulness, you cannot help, while enjoying his gifts from within the boundaries of a ship that once represented freedom to you, feeling a bit envious at being unable to go out and procure them for yourself. Pero can tell that you’re feeling a bit out of sorts, not your usual cheerful self; he so hates to see the wings of his pretty dove clipped – it saddens him just as much to see you try to hide your melancholy from him. And although he cannot agree to lift the current restrictions on your movements, he deeply wishes for a way to make your so-called confinement as pleasant as possible.

The morning that marks the start of your last week in Naples, you wake to an absolute ruckus coming from the ship deck; for a moment you feel a stab of fear, unused to such loud noises and voices without having been given some forewarning. You must still be feeling some effects of your recent scare, you think; upon listening a bit more carefully, you relax to the realization that the voices are primarily instructive and even calm. But it’s still much too early for this level of activity from the deck – the footsteps and voices you hear must be from at least double the amount of people you would normally expect to be up at this time of day. Also unusual is that you’ve woken up to an empty bed; every day following the incident in the square, you’ve woken up to your husband curled around you, arms and legs thrown over your body like protective amour. You don’t think you particularly like today’s change, but it makes sense – you can’t imagine whatever is going on outside to be taking place without your Pero’s permission. Not especially looking forward to another day of doing the same things again within the same confines of the ship, you lay in bed for a while longer, at least until the noises start to die down and your curiosity gets the better of you.

The sight that greets you as you open the door to the deck nearly knocks you off your feet. Somehow, it’s not a wooden ship’s deck that you’re now gazing upon, but a colourful and enchantingly idyllic scene, something that could have been painted by a great master of the arts. For a moment, you have to pinch yourself, is this a dream?

You step through the doorway from the ship’s hold into an ethereal garden – blooming flowers have overtaken every inch of the ship’s deck: thick braided garlands of roses, violets, and peonies wrap wondrously around every one of the ship’s railings, big bright pots of lilacs, azaleas and irises line the sides of the ship and surround a makeshift sitting area where some garden furniture you’ve never seen before has been arranged. Even the mast has been decorated to look like a spring maypole, intertwining vines of clematis and jasmine crisscross all the way down from the crow’s nest so tightly you can barely see any of the dark wood that normally centres your great vessel. Every bow is positively dripping with wisterias, reminding you for a moment of your beloved Bridgerton House. You walk slowly through the dreamlike scene, weaving between the lush plants and the fresh, bold flowers. Brushing your hand over the railing as you meander, your fingertips flutter at the soft feel of the blooming petals and your eyes brighten at the rainbow hues that paint every perimeter inch of the ship. Your nose breathes in the sweet and intoxicating floral scent that now dances lightly in the air. You close your eyes and inhale. Your eyes open again with a soft exhale. Repeat.

You’re turning around slowly, trying to take in the entirety of your magical surroundings when your eyes land on your beaming husband, standing like a handsome faerie king holding an exquisite bouquet of your favourite peonies in his hand, waiting for his pretty queen to take in all his hard work. Despite the residual pain you still feel a bit in your sides, you launch yourself into Pero’s arms, throwing your own around his neck and passionately press your lips to his. Mouth opening, you let Pero lick in and explore, before pulling yourself up onto your toes and suck on his tongue eagerly. Pero pulls you in tightly and when he feels your tongue stroke behind his teeth, lets loose a deep vibrating hum of want that reverberates through you, straight to your core. With a quick nibble to your bottom lip and a few chasing flutter kisses, Pero reluctantly pulls away; he’s sure there are curious eyes all over the ship deck, even if they are currently concealed by the splendid greenery that’s overtaken the space.

When he steps back look at you, the expression on your face almost gives Pero enough reason to throw modesty and decorum out the window, grab at your enticing curves and throw you down amidst the lush fauna he’s brought onto the ship to have his way with you. Almost. Your eyes shine bright and twinkle, there’s a fresh glow to your cheeks, and your smile is the widest that he’s seen in weeks: you’re alive again.

“Pero,” you cry in bliss, “what is all this?”

The Barón gently cradles your head in his hand and reverently strokes the soft hair of his beloved Baronesa, “Mi amor, I could tell that staying confined to the ship has not been agreeing with you. If you cannot go out to explore and play in the wide world, then I will do my best to bring the wide world to you. Now, instead of a cold, dreary ship deck, I hope you will enjoy the remainder of the week before we set sail in your own private garden.”

You could cry – what did you ever do to deserve the love and devotion of your perfect husband? He forever thinks of your comfort and the wellness of your heart – but he does so much more than just take care of you or do things that make you happy, he’s the reason for your joy, for your very being. You cannot stop murmuring, Thank you thank you thank you, into his chest as he holds you close, not only to him but for him.

The flowers last a week which is precisely how long you need them to last. During those final days before your fleet sets sail, you find yourself soothed every time you enter or sit in your personal secret garden; second, by the tranquility and peacefulness of your botanical hideaway, and first, by the knowledge that you have the love of the kindest, sweetest man on earth.

Leaning now along the once again bare wood railing, with the salty sea wind blowing through your hair, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. The patchy facial hair of your husband tickles your cheek as he presses a sweet kiss to your temple and whispers in your ear, “Happy to be on our way, Dulce?”

Turning in his arms, you snuggle into his safe hold; tucking yourself under his chin, you sigh into Pero’s neck, “Just happy, mi amor.”

#jettsflora&faunachallenge #pero tovar #regency!pero tovar #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #bridgerton au #pero tovar series #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #no y/n

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kingprinceleo · 4 months

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Literally everything about Vampire Au since i irreversibly fucked everything up and im just so damn tired:

Early timeline stuff (google docs link)

everything else not on the doc-

eggman is around 100 years old and has been butting heads with gun for control of angel island the entire time

angel island is 1 main island (master emerald) and 7 smaller islands (1 chaos emerald each), GUN hid a chaos emerald on each island to keep them from being easily discoverable and to use their power to maintain the barrier, originally built by gerald as a safety feature

GUN has total control of 3 of the islands, they are more cyberpunk in terms of infrastructure, the further islands are called The Wilds, where mobians inhabit the old buildings from the flood. sonic fights to keep gun from expanding their reach further

Ghost, the head of gun, is an ancient vampire and one of the first Mobian vampires. scourned by what the mutations did to them, they want to kill the vampires of angel island to have their own peaceful domain far away from the surface world

shadow behaves differently depending on how close he is to GUN territory, before Ghost had lost shadow, his mind was altered to better fit Ghosts mission. he was meant to be used as a weapon to hunt and kill vampires, the closer he is to the city, the stronger Ghosts mind control over him is. though ghost isnt aware shadow is awake and running around yet, the mind control is a passive state shadow is in and doesnt realize. he only has a stronger drive to kill near the city.

first arc was meant to just be generally kinda silly, it wasnt meant to be super serious- hoax and shadow make their blood deal in order to get hoax to stop stealing shadows blood bags knukcles, defensive on shadows behalf, clocks hoax so hard he turns back into sonic, thus being the first person to learn about hoax being sonic (outside of amy and tails, who helped come up with hoax)

knuckles learns about the master emerald buried under his fucking pizza store. what the hell. and starts learning about his past as the last echidna from tikal, whos been haunting the pizza place until she was able to get knuckles attention

amy really wants to prove her devotion to sonic by making him a Light ring, a ring with magic infused strong enough to fully protect him from the sun. she is not a powerful enough witch to do it so she starts researching

tails is a shithead and cosmo tries to teach him about friendship

sonic starts learning about chaos emeralds while dealing with eggman etc etc

one of eggmans plots was to mess with the moon pull during a blood moon, driving up bloodlust in vampires and starting chaos

tails vampire reveal

rouge discovers sol and introduces mephiles and silver etc

eggman has a blood mining operation in sol (bc the planet is a living creature)

-arc 2 , generally

the chaotix send tails to gay baby jail , gets broken out by silver mephiles

amy starts getting real desperate bc she keep failing to make the ring, she starts checking out dark magic due to her own shortcomings, being suggested by eggman who is interested in the ring himself. she finds sol alongside sonic and starts researching more magic with blaze and other castle scholars. an attempt at dark magic goes wrong with blaze, the queen of sol. amy is exiled and back to square one, now even more desperate, she keeps trying with dark magic. unknowingly, poisoning her own magic and corrupting the gemstone embedded in sonics staff

shadow starts getting a teeny tiny bit comfortable with hoax, and also is informed about the master emerald by knuckles. tikal remembers him and he starts to realize something isnt quite right in his memories. time for a series of unfortunate events

he delivers pizza to the eggman himself, who talks remorse about what he put shadow through, but angles it in a way to spark further hatred for sonic in shadow, stating sonic influence is what made him have regrets

amys dark magic usage starts corrupting hoax himself, because he is a product of amys magic. the darkness slowly chews away at his mind, and if they dont fix him, sonic will become a mindless servant of dark gaia forever. this is the shadow hoax reveal. It takes all of the friends & shadow to be able to fight and wrangle hoax, once the gemstone is smashed, shadow gets to see hoaxs true form, sonic. shadow tries to KILL HIS ASS

mephiles, the shape shifter, has taken interest in shadow and his determined to make his life more miserable by shifting into rouge and biting him, exposing to shadow rouge has been hiding being a vampire from him the entire time theyve known each other shadow fucking snaps and fucks off to go work for GUN, all vampires are the same lying conniving bastards, and he wants to kill them very dead

shadow captures sonic and he gets held in the central GUN base. sonic finds out Ghost has been not only killing vampires, but draining their lifeforce to keep themselves alive bc theyre old as shit. rouge is also exposed as a vampire (the chaotix supervisor) and gets held in a cell as well. the chaotix think this whole thing is fucked up actually and bust their queen outta there. knuckles and Co come to save sonic, shadow and knuckles have a stand off about both being the protectors of the island and how their friendship has gone out the window if knuckles chooses sonic. Knuckles escapes with sonic

The realizations DO NOT STOP COMING. BOOM. GUN DOCUMENTS. maria was a vampire womp womp. gun killed her for it. Shadow is horrified and the memories start flooding back. Ghost doesnt like this. Get in the Suit Boy. we are gonna kill these heathens <3 ! mephiles takes control of shadows body but no one is aware bc hes inside the fnaf suit. terrible day for him mephiles is gonna use the eclispe canon to drill to the earths core and reunite with iblis ! the only reason he was in sol in the first place was bc he thought blaze was the iblis trigger

everyone is OBVIOUSLY trying to stop this including eggman what the hell shadow this isnt worth it what the fuck

mephiles casually tosses shadows body into the core of the earth once hes done with him and woah. silver and sonic solaris fight woahhhhh vine boom vine boom

arc 3 !

no more angel island barrier, sonic has left to pursue eggman on the surface since hes up to no good, leaving the protection of angel island to knuckles. amy has also left for the surface to spend time on her own and try to learn magic for herself

shadow , barely alive, is fighting his way tooth and nail from the core of the earth.

a year of time passes and during that year- sonic gets up to little adventures, shadow learns to live life on the surface knowing all of the truths about himself now. they both realize they kinda had a crush on the other guy.... damn thats unfortunate.

Ghost no longer has the chaos emeralds but has Created the phantom ruby as a replacement, and has raised infinite from the dead to be its bearer. they create a fake Sh4dow. infinite gets to live out his tormenting shadows life fanfic for fucking killing him !! smh . infinte also uses Sh4dow to infiltrate Sol, Ghost has just discovered the pocket dimension on Their island and wants it gone. This is Shadows sol apartment btw. the fake bought it and he just. took it.

things are gradually getting worse on angel island and both sonic and shadow return. shadow is informed of the fake and teams up with rouge and knuckles to get rid of it flower ball happens around here, Sh4dow trying to fuck up sol somehow and shadow has to stop him. amongus time sonics been flirting with the wrong guy for a while. :{ embarrassing.

something something this leads to infinite and Ghost fight and they both die whatever who cares

so thats what ive been doing for like 2 years !! i . really fucking hate it tbh. all of this work feels so wasted and i feel so stupid. sorry for wasting your time for so long

i like the characters and i like what they have going on but like man,,,, all of the surrounding context just feels so miserably hopeless, it was all for nothing and i just. i want to sleep forever

#sonic au #vampire au

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missvelvetsstuff · 3 months

Text

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, angst

Radar woke from a troubled sleep when her alarm went off at 5pm. She groaned and rolled out of bed, stood and ran through some yoga stretches to get her blood moving. Once she felt more alive she shuffled into the bathroom for a hot shower. By 6pm she was dressed and had her gear ready to go.

She looked in her mirror, took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before heading to the kitchen and the smell of food. Wait, was that.....

"Paprikash!" She exclaimed as she entered the kitchen to see Wanda standing over a large pot.

Wanda turned and grinned "I had to make your favorite, sestra, to welcome you home." She handed Radar a full plate "Here, bread and butter are on the table."

Radar kissed Wanda's cheek "You're my very favoritest witch, Maximoff. Thank you!"

She went to sit at the table and started to eat.

A few minutes later she heard his voice "You made my favorite, Wanda. Thank you."

Bucky came in, grabbed a plate and went to sit down, making a face when he saw Radar there. He sat without a word and started eating.

Radar chatted with Sam when he came in to eat, catching up on life since they last spoke a few months ago.

Sam shook his head "Why haven't you been able to catch up with Sharon yet?"

Radar shrugged "She's smart and knows people. I'm pretty sure she has some high ranking US officials that she's dealing with. CIA, FBI, NSA at least a couple of people in one or more of those agencies. Military too. Maybe the White House.

She's the one who bankrolled Karli Morgantheau and her Flagsmashers. Karli might have cared about the people who were being left behind by capitalism but Sharon and whoever is backing her are only interested in creating chaos. Those people who are suffering were happy to help with that.

I have some strong leads that some of my team are following. I actually have a pretty good idea who's behind Sharon but they are very high up in the pecking order so I can't talk about who or move until we have incontrovertible proof. Whoever it is, knows that I'm catching up with them so I have to watch my back."

Bucky scoffed "Must be a change of pace for you to be concerned with backstabbers since that's your move."

Radar shook her head "Please. If you actually knew the truth you'd really hate yourself, even worse than usual but not to worry, I'm sure you'll never know. That would require some intellectual curiosity instead of blindly trusting a pretty face."

Bucky looked at her, confused "What the fuck are you going on about? What truth?"

Radar got up and put her dishes in the dishwasher "None of your concern, Barnes. Way too late. See you at 9."

Bucky looked at Wanda "What was she talking about? I know that you know."

Wanda shook her head "Sorry Bucky, that's not my story to tell. If you want to know, you'll have to figure out how to get her to trust you enough to tell you. If you even can, which I seriously doubt. Good luck on your mission."

Bucky turned to Sam who was sitting back, smirking, "Of course you know, don't you?"

Sam nodded, still smiling, and wordlessly headed to his room to suit up, then to the hangar.

Bucky put his dishes away and went to the armory to pick up his bag but it was missing. He tore the room apart and when he couldn't find it he stormed to the hangar and onto the waiting quinjet where Radar and Sam were prepping to take off "Where's my kit?"

Sam laughed at Bucky's disheveled state, hair mussed, face red, breathing heavily. That laugh only enraged him "Where's my fucking kit?"

Radar rolled her eyes "Where it belongs, dumbass. I know having a competent assistant is a change of pace for you Barnes but I know my job."

Bucky went to the storage bin in the front of the cabin and pulled out his bag. He went through every pocket, every single hiding place and wasn't surprised to find everything was there. Knives cleaned and sharpened and the bag was loaded with plenty of extra ammo. He scoffed, angry that he had nothing to be angry about and no excuse bitch about her.

Bucky looked at her and Sam, both with a mischievous gleam in their eyes, before stomping to the furthest seat from the pilot and sat heavily. He strapped himself in and crossed his arms, looking anywhere but at the pair laughing at him.

He was relieved when they finally calmed down and turned their attention to taking off and setting their course in.

Radar flew the jet for the entire 6 hour flight, softly chatting with Sam for most of the trip.

Bucky stayed in his seat, arms still crossed, jaw clenched and staring at the opposite wall in a concerted attempt to avoid looking at her. His mind racing to understand what she meant by her cryptic words and growing more and more angry that she was keeping some big secret from him. Something she should have told him before now.

By the time they landed and loaded up the SUV that was waiting for them at their destination, Bucky was ready to explode and fighting to hold it back. He wouldn't start a fight as they headed into a mission but he was damn sure determined to find out what everyone else seemed to already know.

While Radar waited in the quinjet for Bucky and Sam to reach the base, she set up her surveillance gear, connected to Starks satellite and found them and synchronized them with the GPS.

Then she tapped on her key "Captain. Sargent. You have coms? Anyone?" She sighed and fiddled with her laptop "Cap? Sarge? Can you hear me now? Bueller?"

Sam laughed in her ear, making Radar smile "I hear you Angel"

Bucky scoffed "She's not your Angel, Tweety. She's mine." Hearing Radars voice in his ear gave Bucky a chill and a flash of a memory of being tangled together naked, her whispering sweet and dirty nothing's into his ear. He tried to shake it off.

Sam laughed "I'm sorry Terminator. I didn't realize you wanted her all to yourself but you're gonna have to share for now. I'll give her back good as new."

Bucky sputtered "Dammit Wilson you know that's-"

Radar interrupted him "Shush! Someone's up ahead. 2 bodies in front of the door you're headed to, then another 4 people 15 yards down the hall to the left."

She worked on her laptop "Door's unlocked and the alarm is off."

As Radar guided them through the building, the lack of resistance concerned her. She moved the satellite around and gasped when she saw a nest of heat signatures on the other side of the next door in their path "fuckfuckfuck" she tried not to panic "STOP! There's a whole platoon in the next room. Get the fuck out of there. I'll get the jet re-"

Sam and Bucky looked at each other and turned to sprint, both trying to connect with her.

"Radar, come on babygirl we need your help finding our way out of here." Sam pleaded.

Bucky felt his heart drop when she didn't respond at all "RADAR! Dammit doll, answer me please. You have to be ok honey, please!" He begged.

Sam was falling behind him, unable to keep up with the super soldier. Bucky turned to see a group of men behind them and gaining. He fired a slew of shots in their direction then picked Sam up in a firemans carry and ran down the hall with Sam shooting behind his back.

They barely made it to the doors they originally came in through, Sam held them shut while Bucky used his vibranium hand to rip the control panel out of the wall so it wouldn't open without an rpg or a couple of pounds of plastique.

Bucky looked to Sam who nodded his ok before Bucky bolted to the quinjet, Sam jogging slowly behind him.

Bucky raced up to the jet, frowning because the cloak wasn't up so it was easy to see but he stopped cold a few yards back, when he realized the ramp was up as well.

Something was wrong. Radar was good with weapons but her hand to hand skills were greatly diminished by a back injury during a mission when she was with the CIA. That's how she ended up taken out of field work and became his Angel.

Bucky was sure she had her own weapons but if not there were plenty stocked and some hidden aboard the quinjet.

He stood behind a tree, texting Friday and watching the jet for any signs of activity, until Sam caught up. Bucky held his hand up and Sam stopped next to him. They had a heated, whisper discussion about what to do next.

According to Friday, Radar was still in the jet with one other person, who was standing too close to her for Bucky's comfort. She was showing signs of distress with elevated heart rate and blood pressure.

Bucky knew something had to be done so he asked Friday to lower the ramp. When it was halfway down, a mans voice yelled from inside. "I've got your little friend Soldat. Don't come after me or I'll have to hurt her." The man laughed "Well, if I'm being honest I am gonna hurt her irregardless but I'll probably have to kill her if you get too close."

Radar screamed in pain as the man twisted her to face the ramp "Now stop, I barely touched you. Your girl seems pretty sensitive."

"She's not my girl!" Bucky yelled and Sam scowled at him

"Is that really necessary Barnes? Just figure out how to get him away from her."

The man laughed "Sure she isn't Soldat. Just let us go and I'll drop her off somewhere safe."

Bucky was ready to kill the owner of that voice but knew that would get Radar hurt so tried to negotiate. "Fine, I put my gun down. Come on out."

Bucky clenched his jaw when he saw the man holding Radar's arms behind her back while he held a knife at her throat. Once they were at the bottom of the ramp, Bucky threw one of his knives, scraping Radar's ear and landing between the mans eyes.

Radar looked at him with wide eyes after she saw the blood on her hand from where it had touched her ear "Are you fucking crazy Barnes? You could have killed or seriously hurt me. Look at this shit, you cut my ear. I know you hate me but this is not ok. You know, I should-"

Bucky interrupted her rant by grabbing her face with both hands and looking her over very carefully for any injuries besides her ear. When he found nothing his hands pulled away like she burned him

"You're fine, it's barely a scratch. Wheels up in 5, there might be more of them coming."

Then he strode into the jet and started preparing to take off.

Radar turned and watched him walk away, her mouth open, before shaking herself off and looking to Sam as he came up the ramp. He shrugged, grabbed a first aid kit and sat, pulling her down with him so he could check her ear.

Sam cleaned the scratch and put a bandaid on it. "Just a nick, you'll live." He smiled at her. "Did you hear what he said when you didn't reply?"

Radar shook her head "No. That guy took my headset first. Why? What did he say?"

Sam shook his head "You two need to talk. I'm not gonna get in the middle of this mess."

The jet was in the air, destination set and Bucky sighed when he heard Sam say that. He had panicked for a minute but didn't want to reopen that wound. Whatever Radar's truth was, it didn't matter.

Like she said it was too late.

@unaxv @calwitch @buckitostan

Chapter 3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #the situation room

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