#I checked this thing out and it’s so cool!!

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part three max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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He thought he’d forgotten how to breathe, standing in his spot with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the chalkboard menu. You'd think he was a statue with how little he was moving. But then again, you weren't aware of who you were standing next to you.

"Y/N? Can we explore for a bit?" the two college-aged boys asked, making you peel your eyes off the list of foods to the interns, Max would assume. Out of the corner of his eyes, the blond could see you check your watch before nodding. 

"Yeah, sure. There's plenty of time. Meet me back here in an hour and a half so we can head over to the circuit. Deal?" Oh, that was definitely your voice. You were his Y/n. The way you talked and your voice and accent. He could now put a face to your voice, no more profile pictures.

"Deal! Thanks, Y/n." "See ya, Y/n."

"Take care, guys." Max didn't expect to run into you so soon, or be this close to you at all, even. He watched as you waved to the two interns who excitedly jogged out.

Don't come off as a creep, Max reminded himself, shaking his head and taking a step forward in the direction of the register. He'll just act cool, normal. Get himself something to drink and sit down. That helped calm him down a little, just like any other indifferent person.

It's very unfortunate for Max that his inner peace never lasts so long. Not that it was a bad thing he bumped into you. There is nothing wrong with accidentally stepping forward at the same time as you. It's just not good for his heart. Max already has to meet fans today and get in the car for fp2 and 3. You're just making his brain go haywire a little too much that he feels his eyes are going to turn static and face turning the shade of Charles' Ferrari.

"Sorry." He tried to apologise, stepping back, feeling his body stiff and turning to stone. 

"Désolée," you went to apologise only to look up and meet eyes with the three time world champion. "oh- im so sorry."

"No, it's ok." Max smiled nervously, meeting your eyes for the first time, which honestly made him feel mesmerised.

"Here, you can go," you stepped back, offering the blond to step to the cashier. 

"No, no. Ladies first." he shook his head, cutting you off when you went to argue back. "—I insist."

Max was kind of disappointed that you felt so nervous and acted so polite upon recognizing him. He wished you would've treated him like normal, the same way you talk to him as amilian or the same way you would talk to a stranger who wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into you.

He knows it's not fair that he's pushing his expectations on you, though. Anyone would react the same way upon meeting a very important or famous person. Max just wished he was standing beside you in line instead of behind you. Having a friendly conversation, telling you how much you'll love the cheesecake.

He'll have to settle for sitting on a table not too far from you for now, sipping from his paper cup while scrolling through his phone.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

y/n — 'I bumped into Max 😓' 

Max himself, glanced up to where you were sitting, catching you looking away quickly, face turning a deep shade of red.

y/n — 'And now he thinks I'm stalking him!!' y/n — 'million help 😭😭'

Max chuckled slightly, feeling his heart ease. You were overthinking things. He wished he could sit beside you and pat your back until you calmed down. But he can't really do that, can he? Max calming you down after you get all nervous and anxious meeting him? The situation gets sadly funnier the further Max plays into it and thinks about it.

Max — 'What did you do ⁉️' he sent back in the chat

y/n — 'I went to the café you told me about, and i think i accidentally stepped on his foot 😭😭' y/n —  'I ruined his shoes! And he needs his foot to drive the car!!!' y/n —  'He must hate me' y/n —  'He saw me looking at him too' y/n —  'Must think i’m a weirdo

"Not at all." He mumbled, a soft smile covering his face. You're just feeling anxious. He could care less about his shoes, and his foot is fine. He didn’t even realise you stepped on it. 'relax, deep breath' he sent, seeing you fill your chest and release as told.

Max — 'you're fine' 'don't overthink things'

y/n — '🥺' You were actually pouting.

Max — 'Do you want me to text him and apologise on your behalf?' 

A weird offer. Apologising to himself for you even though he wasn’t mad, but grateful he saw you today. 

y/n — 'NO!!!!' 'NO NO NO!' 

Max — 'Do you want me to get you a pass for the meet and greet?'

y/n — 'THAT'LL MAKE IT WORSEEE'

Max — 'Ok, ok' 

Max thought for a moment, sitting back. 'Count from one to ten' He was actually surprised that you did as told, listening to him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath for ten seconds.

Max — 'What did you order?' Start a conversation, comfort and distract her. He's good at that.

y/n — 'A mocha, the one you told me about'

Max — 'You should try the cheesecake, the one with strawberry jam on top.' He typed back. 

y/n — 'I didn't see that on the menu?'

Max — 'Trust me' Max — 'You'll love it'

y/n — 'Ok, ok, i trust you a million' y/n — ‘But not right now’ y/n — 'I'll stop by after finishing with stuff at McLaren’ y/n — 'I'm not hungry rn’ y/n — 'Wish you were here'

Max — 'Yeah, i'd be stealing that cheesecake from you' 

y/n — 'Don't you dare!! 😠'

Max chuckled, you were really expressive with your face as you typed. He saw you frowning to match the emoji, but there was still a hint of a smile. He liked that smile, he loved it. He loved you overall. 

You were real. If only Amilian was real. If only he could sit beside you and tease and joke with you. 

Max — '🫵😏' 'Max texted me!'

y/n — 'WHAT?!!!!????!!' 

He could see you jump in your seat a little before trying to act cool even though it was clear you were anxious.

Max — 'He texted me about a cute girllllll who he bumped intooooo' 

y/n — 'AMILIAN COME PICK ME UPP 😭'

He couldn't help the smile that curled on his face.

Max — 'I’m joking, I’m joking' Max — 'hahaha' He leaned back, sighing happily.

y/n — 'ofc you are' y/n — 'No way he thinks i'm cute'

Max — 'I mean you dress up like it's fashion week' Max — 'Compared to him, he could use some advice'

y/n — 'His outfit is actually not that bad today' y/n — 'Baggy white pants!!' y/n — 'And a blue shirt!!!!!'

Max — 'Wow, you serious?' Max — 'No way' He typed even though he is wearing that.

y/n — 'tbh it makes him look even more pretty'

Max — 'Pretty?’ Max — ‘He's a guy' 

y/n — 'What, a guy can’t be pretty?' y/n — 'Max is cute’ y/n — ‘Especially when he's having fun and smiling'

Max — 'The guy looks like a gremlin.' He didn’t even realise he was smiling, feeling fuzzy inside. Max — ’Sid the sloth, Netflix rerun’

y/n — 'Don't insult him!!' y/n — 'Take it back' y/n — 'He’s handsome and beautiful and amazing!' y/n — 'Any woman would be lucky to have him'

Max — 'You just dug your own grave' Max — 'I believe you fall into the *any woman* category'

y/n — 'No no no, pleasee' y/n — 'You'll embarrass me'

Max —’That's my job’ Max — 'I'll simply put in a good word for you'

y/n —'amiliaaaaaan 😭😭'

[kookygranger]

Top five, most memorable kisses of all time

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin move to Chicago and find their people. Eddie finds you behind the counter at Championship Records. He thinks you're cool. You think he's gorgeous. Life outside of Hawkins might just be worth fighting for.

Warnings: swearing, kissing (obvs), fluff, fem!reader, mostly Eddie's POV, our boy has no rizz, alcohol consumption, I don't think anything else, too many high fidelity references?

Word count: 4k

Author's note: This is a one-shot, that has been sitting in my drafts since last Halloween and thanks to a wip game has finally seen the light of day! Find the playlist that inspired the fic below.

Masterlist

One pill makes you larger,

And one pill makes you small

The bell above the door jingles as Eddie steps through the threshold, his shoulders relaxing as the warmth seeps back into him and he scans the racks of records before him. Perking up as he notices the music playing over the speakers, he was still getting used to how much cooler things were in Chicago than back home – and shit, how much cooler people were.

Eddie clocks you sitting on top of the counter with one leg crossed under you, the other swinging down the side as you sticker a stack of vinyl. You mouth along with the music, not even noticing him slip through the aisles as he stops in a random section with a perfect view of you across the small store.

He’d only come in here to kill some time between soundcheck and the gig tonight at a venue down the street. The rest of the band had gone to find some food, but Eddie wanted to check out the record store they passed on the drive in. And boy, was he glad he did.

He mindlessly flicks through the records in front of him, trying to come up with a good conversation starter. It wasn’t that often that he missed Steve Harrington, but he could sure use one of the boy’s famous pep talks right about now. Fuck, what was it about pretty girls that got him so tongue-tied? Probably the pretty part.

But you weren’t just pretty, you were obviously very cool, and he certainly wasn’t used to girls sharing the same interests as him – but he’d met a lot of them since he’d moved to Chicago a couple of months ago.

Just as he’s thinking about what albums he could pick out to impress you, the bell above the door jingles again. A guy around his age walks in, his short hair spiked, nose and ears pierced and tattoos peeking out from a crisp white t-shirt. He walks with confidence to where you sit and makes you jump slightly as he greets you boisterously.

“Shit, you scared me.”

He snickers and starts rummaging through a crate of cassettes by the counter.

“Yeah, you look like you were in the zone. Did you even notice you had a customer?”

You turn your head in Eddie’s direction just as he ducks his down, continuing to flick through the disco section. Wait, shit where’s the metal?

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath and turn your attention back to the other guy, not quite lowering your voice enough so Eddie couldn’t eavesdrop. “No, but in my defence this song is a banger.”

Severin, Severin, speak so slightly

Severin, down on your bended knee

“What the fuck are you listening to anyway?”

“I made a pre-Halloween mix. Music that led to goth before goth was a thing.” You frown as you try to unstick a bright red sticker from the price gun you’d been tapping on the pile of vinyl.

Eddie smiles to himself as he continues to pretend he’s browsing and not tuning into your conversation.

“Are you coming to The Allied tonight? There’s some new band from Indiana or something playing. Apparently, they do a sick cover of Master of Puppets.”

Eddie pauses in his faux perusing for a second as he awaits your reply.

“I wasn’t really planning on it, no.”

The guy huffs, “No? What was your plan, going home to sulk to The Velvet Underground?”

“I don’t sulk–“

“You do when you listen to The Velvet Underground.”

“What do you want me to do? Pogo to Heroin? Anyway, I was gonna work on an article actually.”

“Why don’t you write about this band tonight? Tim says they’re pretty good. He saw them a couple of weeks ago at the Metro.”

“Tim said that about that god-awful noise band that played at De Salle’s. It was the worst four hours of my life. I thought my ears were actually going to bleed.”

“Whatever, you say that like you’re not currently playing the most depressing German synth music that nobody in their right mind would listen to.” He points his hand in the air, drawing your attention to the new song playing from the speakers behind you.

“First of all, this is David Bowie’s Low. And if you knew as much about music as you claim to, you’d know that this was his seminal work in his Berlin era and an ambient soundscape masterpiece. Secondly–“

“I like it.”

Both of your heads shoot up at Eddie’s interruption. He blushes and clears his throat as you catch his eye and the corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry, I just–it’s a good mixtape. I like the theme.” He frowns and shakes his head at himself, he doesn’t know what came over him. Who is this guy that’s bothering you, anyway? You have amazing taste and he’s now sure you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. You gesture in his direction and look back at the guy that’s teasing you.

“The customer is always right, Simon.”

Eddie moves quickly to the B section and finds the album you were talking about before heading over to you.

“Did you find everything you need?” You smile at him sweetly as you hop off the counter and take the record from him. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before. Customer service isn’t exactly my strongest skill.”

The guy, Simon, snorts. Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way your face lights up quietly when you realise what album he picked.

“What are your strongest skills?” That was such a weird question Munson, what the hell?

You look up at him a little taken aback, before a small smile creeps up on you.

“Talking about music…or” you shake your head in contemplation, “writing about it actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Maybe it’s not so much a skill, more like an obsession.”

“She’s actually kind of good.” Simon butts in with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“Such a high compliment cuz.”

You were cousins. He still had a shot.

“You write for magazines?”

“Zines mostly,” you point to a stack of xeroxed pamphlets on the counter, “but I’ve published a few reviews with Spin and The Face.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That’s pretty cool.”

You breathe out a laugh and take the cash he hands you, collecting his change. “Thanks.”

“Wait, you're Eddie, right?” He turns to Simon, almost forgetting he was there. “Your band’s playing at The Allied tonight? I met your drummer Gareth at a show last week.”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. We’re called Corroded Coffin.”

“Cool name.” You smirk and hand him his record wrapped in paper. Eddie tucks it under his arm, his dimples showing as he smiles back at you.

“Thanks.”

“You’re from Indiana then?” You call back to Simon’s earlier statement, as Eddie doesn’t make a move to immediately leave.

He rubs the back of his neck as he nods, “Yeah. Just moved here a couple of months ago with my band.”

“Welcome to Chicago, Eddie.” You smile and introduce yourself, “Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you…vinyl wise I mean.”

“Thanks,” he scratches the stubble on his jaw before stepping away from the counter. “Maybe I’ll see you tonight at the show?” He tries to keep his voice casual, but there’s a hint of hope in there.

You bite your lip and shrug, “Yeah, maybe you will.”

Eddie nods and takes his queue to leave, the bell jingling again as he steps back out into the cold.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” Simon mocks you in a breathy imitation and you roll your eyes. “So now that you know the singer is cute are you coming?”

“Obviously! You better get me on the door list, or I swear to god I’m telling Aunt Carol about the stash in your underwear drawer.”

***

“Hey, Carlos.” You greet your friend at the door of The Allied, who waves you in without payment. “That Darondo record came in, I put it aside for you.” You call back on your way in, hearing a muffled thanks as the music from inside hits your eardrums.

There’s a decent crowd tonight, and you have to push past a few people to reach the sticky top bar.

“Oh, she showed up! Surprise, surprise.” Simon makes his way over to you, ignoring the calls of indignance as he passes other customers. He slings a rag over his shoulder, which makes you bite your lip, attempting to hold in a laugh, remembering how he’d practised that move in the mirror when he turned twenty-one and landed the second most coveted job of your teenage selves.

You shrug nonchalantly, despite your cousin knowing the exact reason you’re here. “I ended up doing inventory ‘till late. Thought I may as well drop by before catching the L.”

Simon flicks your nose, your retaliating slap missing him as he moves to pour your drink. You thank him with a forced smile when he slides it across the bar, picking it up and turning to find a spot in the crowd.

“No tip?”

You call over your shoulder, “Yeah, take it easy on the cologne.” You smirk, not even having to turn around to know he’s probably sniffing his shirt.

You take your usual spot leaning against the wall, up the back and away from most of the crowd. Your rule was front row or back. None of that squished in the middle, view blocked by the tallest guy you’d ever seen crap. Either it was front and centre, immersed in the moment, or your own space with a view of it all.  

You’d never be up front for a band you didn’t know, and tonight was no exception, no matter how large the butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of seeing him again.

You don’t know what it was about Eddie, apart from the obvious fact that he was gorgeous. Maybe it was something in his presence. But when he walked up to the counter earlier with a record you’d just been talking about and a shy smile on his face – you were a goner.

The murmurs of the crowd quieten when the house lights are switched off, a yellow glow on the stage and above the bar now the only sources of light.

There are a few enthusiastic cheers when the band appear from a door behind the stage and a smattering of applause as they take their place. You take a sip of your drink, ignoring the feeling in your chest when Eddie steps up to the mic and adjusts his red Warlock guitar. He smiles and you duck your head, trying not to look too much like the girl who’s just fallen for a lead singer when he addresses the crowd.

“Evening. Hope you brought your earplugs, this one’s new.” The quiet, reservedness of his introduction and the boy you’d met earlier is undone with the first crashing of cymbals and thrash of power chords.

Stage Eddie isn’t what you were expecting, but still somehow makes total sense. He’s more comfortable, more himself up there as he thrashes back and forth, hair whipping wildly. And they’re good. Really good.

Maybe you’d write about them after all.

The band are almost through their set when he spots you. Your back straightens as his eyes lock onto yours. Normally you hate making eye contact with someone on stage, but you can’t seem to look away when his chocolate-brown gaze twinkles over the heads of the rest of the crowd. In between songs, he gives you a wave, and you nod, returning his small smile.

When they finish, you move back to the bar. Waiting for the lingering fans to clear over a rum and coke. You’re only on your second sip when you feel a burning hot presence behind you.

“You made it.”

You turn around, and Eddie leans an arm on the bar beside you, moving in closer as the growing line pushes him forward.

“I did.” You nod, taking another sip of your drink.

He clears his throat, pushing his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“So, uh, what did you think?”

You smile, “I think you’re going to fit in very well here.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he chuckles.

“Oh, it is. You’re one of us now. Welcome to the dark side, Eddie.”

His eyebrows raise, the ghost of a smirk kicking up when you’re interrupted by your cousin.

“Man, that was sick! What can I get ya?”

Eddie thanks Simon, then looks back at you, “What are you having?” He holds up two fingers when you answer, signalling for another round, then starts playing with a beermat while you wait. Your eyes are trained to the glint of silver on his fingers.

“How are you liking Chicago so far?”

Eddie looks back at you and puffs his cheeks up as he exhales. “Honestly?... I didn’t know life could be this good.”

You feel a sharp tingling in your nose as your eyes well up a little for the boy standing in front of you, his cheeks dusted with pink as he tries to hold back a smile.

“Trust me, things are only gonna get better from here.”

“Yeah?” He beams at you then and you inhale deeply as you fight the urge to reach out and wrap your arms around him.

“Yeah.”

***

Eddie had seen you a few times since the gig at The Allied. Dropping into the record store when he could. In small crowds at gigs in the city. You’d greet him with a hug or a squeeze to the arm that never failed to get his heart rate going.

Today, he’d gotten off early from his temporary new gig at the auto shop and he found himself parked outside the record store.

It was overcast, but there was no bite to the air. A balmy wind tousling his hair as he ran across the street to the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, avoiding the fat drops of rain that had begun to fall sporadically.

He spots you through the window when he makes his back to the store, bobbing your head along to whatever’s playing as you fill the racks. The now familiar bell jingles and he smiles when he recognises Joy Division over the speakers. He’d seen you in their shirt on more than one occasion.

He meets you as you're walking back to the counter.

“Oh, hey Eddie.” You smile and do a double take, taking in his greasy coveralls, and suddenly he’s wishing he’d gone home and showered. Even if it was an hour out of his way.

“Hey.” He places a coffee on the counter along with a white paper bag. “Thought you might like a mid-afternoon pick me up. I’ve uh, I’ve seen you with one of those cinnamon things before.”

Your eyes light up as you inspect the inside of the bag. “Oh my god, you’re my hero! Thank you, that’s so sweet.”

He shrugs, taking a step back from the counter, his own black coffee still clutched in his hands.

“So, this is the day job then huh?” You gesture to his outfit.

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah for now. Until the music starts paying off. If the music starts paying off.”

You nod, taking a bite of your cinnamon scroll and he can’t help but smirk at the way your eyes quickly roll to the back of your head. “It will.”

His free hand goes to his pocket, face hidden slightly by his hair as he tucks into himself at your confident statement.

“Thanks.” He turns around to start perusing the aisles.

“Oh, we will be getting the new Metallica album on the day of release by the way. I’ll put a tape aside for you.”

“Thank you.” He offers you a smile over his shoulder, and you tip your coffee to him.

He takes his time flicking through the rows, a few customers coming and going as he does, although he knows exactly what he’s looking for. Once the store is quiet again, he walks back over to you, selection in hand.

“Lee Hazelwood?” You take the record from him with a look of surprise.

He nods, “Yeah, I liked that song on that pre-goth mixtape you gave me. It’s like the kind of thing my uncle would listen to but…”

“Sinister.”

“Yeah.”

You smile, “It’s cool isn’t it? You know he actually wrote These Boots Are Made For Walkin’. Helped save Nancy Sinatra’s career after the teeny-bopper thing didn’t work out. They made a couple of albums together actually, and you know the first time he retired from the music industry was because the success of The Beatles’ made him depressed.”

He leans his arms on the counter as you talk. “Wow, you really are a wealth of knowledge for this stuff huh?”

You shrug, “What else is there?”

“Apart from books.”

You nod, “Good movies.”

He smiles, “Pizza.”

“Dumplings.”

“DnD”

You frown, “That nerdy board game?”

“No, uh d–dumplings like you said, and uh– dough–doughnuts?”

You scrunch up your face, “Okay,” and giggle at Eddie’s strained smile.

“So uh, what–would you–“ Not screwing this up at all Munson. “Would you maybe wanna do that together sometime? The pizza and dumplings, or probably one or the other I guess, and a movie, good music–“ he blows out a puff of air, scrunching up his face.

“Are you asking if I wanna go see a movie?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, “that and dinner. If you want.”

“I do like both those things.” You smile. “How about Thursday? I finish closing up at six.”

“Yeah. Cool. Thursday sounds good.” The guys and their weekly standing appointment for band practice would not agree.

***

Thursday rolls around faster than Eddie’s prepared for. Predictably, his bandmates all made fun of him for cancelling practice for you. But he just ignored the high-pitched ooohs and went to make sure his lucky Sabbath shirt was washed before he needed it.

He’s wearing it now as he paces outside the movie theatre, twisting his rings, oblivious to you sneaking up behind him until it’s too late.

“Boo!”

“Jesus Christ.” He jumps and twists around, your hands that had reached out to scare him still on his hips, his arms float in the air for a second before landing on your shoulders.

“You’re on edge,” you tease before your face sets a little more seriously. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, just uh, you wanna head in? It starts in like five minutes.”

You nod, your hands leaving his waist as his fall back to his sides. “What are we seeing anyway?” You look up at the black lettering above you, smiling just as Eddie reveals your viewing choice for the night.

“Thought we could see Young Frankenstein. Saw they were doing an old-school horror weekend here in the paper.”

“That sounds great.”

He lets out a breath of relief when you bump his shoulder affectionately, and you begin walking into the theatre side by side.

“Now the real important question Eddie Munson. What are your go-to movie snacks?”

His hand twitches when it accidentally brushes the back of yours.

“Well, popcorn obviously.”

“Obviously.” You nod.

“Sour Patch Kids and you gotta add a packet of Reese’s Pieces in there too.”

“Wait, in there as in–?”

“In the popcorn bucket. All of it. Like a good version of a trail mix.”

You grin, “Very interesting.”

“Just wait till you try it, sweetheart, you’ll never do it any other way.”

You laugh, “Okay, lead the way.”

He bows, gesturing his hand towards the confection stand. “After you m’lady.”

Your giggle, Eddie quickly finds out is his new favourite sound. When it appears again in the movie theatre, he can’t seem to keep his eyes on Gene Wilder, only watching you light up with laughter.

He can’t quite believe how well it’s all going. That is until you’re sharing a large pepperoni, on the bench outside the place you insisted served the best “pies” in all of Chicago, and your confusion stops his heart for a second.

He groans when he takes the first bite of cheesy dough.

“Good right?”

He nods, chewing and swallowing quickly. “My uncle told me pizza wasn’t a first date kind of meal, but we don’t have anything like this back in Hawkins.”

You’re sitting so close that he notices you still right away.

“Wait, this is a date?”

“Oh,” he swears his heart drops to his stomach as he sees the surprise on your face. “Oh well, yeah I thought it was but I guess I–it doesn’t have to be, sorry.”

You reach out to grab his arm when he instinctively moves away, “No! I just didn’t realise you were asking me out, out. You kinda just kept listing food.” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “I want it to be a date.”

He bites his lip, looking back at you with eyebrows raised, “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, squeezing the arm still in your hold. “Of course. I would love to…be on a date with you right now.”

He beams, “Well, it’s your lucky night sweetheart.”

***

The date (once it’s established as one), goes so well Eddie finds himself back at your apartment, admiring your wall lined with records while you find the both of you a drink.

His eyebrows marry together when he notices Dusty Springfield next to the Sex Pistols.

“What’s the system here?” You hand him a beer when you reappear by his side. “Not by genre?”

“No. Autobiographical.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“How–?”

“Well,” you step forward, reaching out to pick a plastic sleeve as if from memory, “if I want to find the song Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, I have to remember that I bought it for someone in the fall of 1983 but didn’t give it to them…for personal reasons.” You show him the white cover of the album.

“That sounds…”

“Comforting.”

He nods slowly, “Yes.”

“It is.”

God, you’re weird. And cute. And cool. And, shit he was going for it, you said you wanted to be on a date with him. You invited him back to your place. No one’s ever done that before. He should go for it. He’s going for it–

Your lips feel even softer than he imagined, and he can’t help but give himself a mental high-five when you immediately move closer to him, face melting into the hand that cradles your cheek. You taste almost vanilla-y with the combo of rum and coke still sitting on your tongue when his meets yours. He places his beer down on the coffee table, and your lips follow him when he has to dip down slightly before his free hand comes to sit on your waist.

You part for a breath, “Didn’t realise vinyl categorisation would get you so hot.” You tease him, lips plump and eyes slightly glazed over, and he’s never wanted anything more in his life than to keep you looking at him like this.

“Yeah uh, really love that Dewey Decimal system.” He leans close to capture your lips again, but you pull back, leaving him to chase you.

“The Dewey Decimal system is for books.” You shake your head.

Eddie huffs, “I really don’t care.” He finally finds your lips again and he swears they taste even sweeter the second time, despite being tainted by his own.

You guide him back to slowly sit on the couch, bodies falling a little clumsily together before you situate yourself in his lap, legs straddling his. You both stay like that for what could be hours for all Eddie cares, lips clicking in the silence.

“Fuck, I could kiss you all night.” He leans his forehead against yours, heavy breathing synced with your own, as you finally come up for air.

You shake your head, eyes soft and reassuring.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eddie.”

God dammit, is he glad he left Hawkins.

Tagging: @storiesbyrhi (I hope you like the coffee shop across from the record store 😉), @bettyfrommars (I finished it!)

[love4pascal]

"Summers In The Air And Baby, Heaven's In Your Eyes."

Joel Miller x F!reader

An: first fic! Feedback would definitely be appreciated!

Word count: 1k+

Warnings:fluff, age gap (readers 26 & Joel is 33) Joel and reader have been friends for 4 years so, Fake dating, creepy neighbors husband, protective!joel for like 2 seconds, THEY KISS.

It's mid July and the Millers are throwing their annual neighborhood together.

Every. Single. Year. The millers throw an outstanding barbecue, the best Texan brisket that’s been smoked for 12 hours the night before just for this big event.

Hours before the event the whole Miller household was in shambles, everyone on deck running around tidying up, making sure everything is perfect.

Thankfully Joel and Tommy had helpful hands with you being there. Sarah not so much but she’d pop in at times to see what the progression looked like.

Joel called out for your help in the backyard.

“Hey can you help me with the pool, while I check on the brisket?” He squinted his eyes due to the Texas sun in his eyes.

“Yeah, the skimmers in the shed, right?” With the nod of approval from the older Texan, you headed to the shed and grabbed the skimmer for the pool.

While skimming the pool, you were oblivious to the footsteps behind you until you were falling into the pool and loud laughs were heard from the two.

Sarah hunched over; giggles coming from her. Joel stands in the spot that you were just at, laughing.

The worst duo when it came to stuff like this.

“You’re a very lucky man, Miller.” Reaching your hand up to signal help getting out.

“And why’s that?” Grabbing your hand and ready to pull you up from the cool water.

You yank his hand and here he comes splashing next to you in the cool blue water.

“Because if I was wearing the clothes for the party right now, you’d be a dead man.” You laughed at his soaking wet form in the water

Sarah was practically rolling on the grass from how her father fell for the obvious.

“Sarah, could you help me carry this stuff to the table please?” Walking out and placing the paper plates and plastic silverware onto the white fold up table.

“Where should I put this..?” She stood next to you confused.

“I’ll put it away, don’t worry about it.” Grabbing the box of napkins and more paper plates and placing them on the table.

Once you were done putting stuff away , you decided to check on Joel knowing he tends to get anxious before everyone shows up.

“How are you doing.?” You rubbed his shoulder.

“You know how I get before everyone shows up.” Pulling the brisket out of the smoker.

“Yeah and every time, people are blown away from your amazing Texan hospitality that keeps them coming every year.” Following him to the table where all the food is set out and covered.

“You ain’t got a damn thing to worry about miller.” You reassure him.

“Yeah I know but-” he was abruptly cut off.

“Hey Joel, people are here. You want me to let them in or nah..?” It was the man of the hour, Tommy miller.

Joel looked at you for some help, and with a nod of approval from you, he told Tommy to start letting people in.

-

With about half of the neighborhood in Joel millers backyard, there was still enough room to navigate around.

Sarah and her friends playing in the pool, parents talking about the latest gossip going on in the neighborhood. Joel and Tommy talking to their construction friends.

It was one of the very many things you enjoyed during the summer.

Watching from afar, soaking up the memory of pure happiness, until it was rudely interrupted by someone.

“Hey, you know where Joel keeps the beer? I’ve seen everyone with one yet I can’t seem to find a single cooler of beer.” A tall man, graying hair and slight wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh um, yeah it’s just this way.” Walking outside by the grill and pulling the large cooler from the somewhat hidden space it sat before.

“Thank you darling. I appreciate it.” The man smiled at you.

“Oh it was really no problem at all.” You returned a polite smile at the older man and just as you about to walk away to find Joel, is when you felt a hand on your wrist.

“Why don’t you have a drink with me?” His oddly warm hand still wrapped around your wrist.

“I would, but I really need to find Joel.” Using anything as an excuse to get away from this man.

“How about you have a drink with me and then we can both go find Joel?!” He said, it was sounding like he was more telling you than asking you.

You were about to reply until your thoughts were interrupted.

“Actually Mike, I need her help with something, so if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to let go of my girlfriend.” It was the man that you were looking for, Joel miller.

“Oh my bad Joel, didn’t mean anything by it.” The tall man, Mike was much shorter than Joel was, Joel was practically towering over the older man. Mikes hand quickly unwrapping itself from your wrist.

“I think Linda’s over there looking for you. Said something about your daughter, might want to go find her.” Joel softly pulling you in his side, watching Mike scramble to find his wife.

“So girlfriend huh?!” You grin looking up at him. Resting your right hand on his chest.

He playfully pushes you away, laughing as he speed walks away from you.

“MILLER.” You shout as you ran after him, laughing once you catch up.

“I only said that so he’d let go of you, or I was gonna have to ruin the barbecue because I would’ve punched him” he said slowly sitting on the outside couch he had.

“Joel miller, you would ruin your barbecue for me, I feel honored.” Nudging your elbow against his.

“Oh shut up.” He looks at the ground chuckling.

After everyone left, it was just you, Joel, Tommy, Sarah and her school friend Ellie.

You and the Miller men clean up the aftermath of the barbecue.

3 trash bags full, fold up table put in the shed, extra food placed in the fridge, and beer put in the garage fridge.

You were finally done.

Tommy called it a night after helping you and Joel take the trash to the garage cans.

-

After washing your hands and putting away the extra paper plates back into the pantry, and running the dishwasher even after Joel’s protests about how he’ll do them tomorrow.

You found Joel sitting on the outdoor couch nursing a beer. Sitting right next to him and laying your head on his firm but soft shoulder.

He offered you some of his beer, which you excepted.

You two say in comfortable silence, just enjoying one another’s company.

At one point you could hear Sarah and her friend Ellie laughing and giggling. It sends a pang of happiness to your heart.

You finally broke the silence, your voice soft and airy.

“You’re the best, best friend I’ve ever had.” You say looking up at him.

And for a second you could’ve sworn the world went quiet, no giggles of the two young girls upstairs, no crickets or chirps, just you two.

“Oh yeah?” He said looking at the full moon that had been looking right at the two of you.

“Yeah.” Turning your attention to the moon as well.

“Well you’re also the best, best friend I’ve ever had.” He turns to admire you, how peaceful you look, how the moon light dances on your beautiful skin.

He watches as you turn to look at him, your smile brightens and for the first time in Joel millers life, he gets butterflies.

It’s like something had taken over Joel’s body as he slowly leans towards you, before his lips capture yours.

You deepen the kiss, moving from sitting beside Joel to sitting on his lap.

He breaks the kiss for a second to breathe, your foreheads resting onto one another’s before he captures your lips for a second time.

“I think I’m in love you with you.” You whisper into the kiss.

“I think I’m in love with you too.” He whispers to you.

A/n: Hey there! I hope you enjoyed!

[empty-movement]

Nanami-sama, Beware!!!

It's May 7, 1997, and you're about to watch episode 6 of Revolutionary Girl Utena!!!

There was a HUUUGE data leak though, and somehow, in advance of the episode dropping, you were able to catch the storyboards!! (Hell, you even found someone who leaked the script, and screenshots of the episode!) Looks pretty exciting, lots of strange things happening here. The storyboards say episode 8 for some reason, but otherwise it all seems on the up and up!

So you eagerly crack open your May issue of Newtype Magazine to check out the plot summary:

Today's home economics class is cooking practice. At Miki's request, Himemiya and I decided to make "spicy curry." However, the curry powder we use is replaced with extremely spicy curry from India, which is so spicy that Touga's younger sister, Nanami, harasses her. What's more, the spiciness explodes into pieces! The phantom megaton of ultra-spicy curry, 900 billion times more, goes into the pot. When Himemiya and I did that, we were so blown away that our personalities switched!! Hey, hey, you're not kidding!

Wait....what????? That doesn't match the storyboards at all! Or the screenshots??? Sure enough, the episode title listed with this plot summary is Nanami-sama, Beware!...but what's curry gotta do with that?

So you hop in a time machine, and check out Ikuhara's 2011 DVD extras commentary:

This episode originally went into production as “Episode 8.” It was “in production as Episode 8” during scripting, storyboarding, and even after animation started. But it got switched in the broadcast order with “Episode 6 (”Curried High Trip”, which broadcast as episode 8)“, because that episode fell behind schedule. Because I always called this “Episode 8” during the production process, the impression stuck in my mind to this day is: “Curry is Ep 6; the kangaroo is Ep 8.” It’s a comedic story, but it shows Nanami’s feelings for Touga. This wasn’t just about Nanami; it was also about how we’d present Touga. The original plan was to connect stories with a “Touga Episodes” theme: first in episode 8 we’d show Nanami’s feelings for Touga is a comedic way, then in episode 9 we’d show Touga in contrast with [Kyouichi] Saionji, then in episode 10 we’d show Touga using Nanami’s feeling for him, and finally in episode 11 we’d show Touga facing off against Utena. I’d used a group of three identical characters before, in Sailor Moon S [the Amazon Trio?]. It was strangely fun, so I tried sticking them in this show, too. The staff liked them, too (it was probably more like the staff found them convenient), so we turned them into semi-regular characters. It’s largely thanks to Ms. Hayashi, the animation director, that the production troubles weren’t reflected in the quality of the episode. I like how Touga looks so unnecessarily cool during the climax, when he defeats the kangaroo.

Huh!!! In case you're wondering, the next issue of Newtype will have the identical description under an episode 8 titled Curried High Trip. So I guess amid the mess, they just never published an episode description for this one??

Come chat about it in the watch thread on Something Eternal, or just enjoy this weird little tour. :)

[hunieday]

Iori, Yuki, Touma 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 1

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

*Door opens*

Izumi Iori: Good morning...Uh. What are you doing, Yuki-san?

Izumi Iori: Wrapping your hands around Inumaru-san's biceps…

Inumaru Touma: Good morning! Izumi!

Yuki: Good morning, Iori-kun. Touma-kun said he’s been really into muscle training lately, so I was just checking him.

Izumi Iori: C-Checking him...?

Yuki: If you're aiming to be like Ryuunosuke-kun, maybe you still have ways to go.

Inumaru Touma: That’s right...! I'll work even harder!

Yuki: Yeah, keep it up.

Izumi Iori: What kind of conversation is this... I thought I walked into the wrong room for a second…

Yuki: This is the planning room for the "Monthly World Travel".

Izumi Iori: I am aware.

Inumaru Touma: Oh man, I'm looking forward to Taipei! It’s interesting that we’re going sightseeing and challenging ourselves on a mission at the same time.

Inumaru Touma: We decided the members for this project by drawing lots, but the combination of the three of us seems a bit unusual, doesn't it?

Izumi Iori: Yes, it does. We’re different types of people...

Izumi Iori: ...I'm starting to feel anxious.

Yuki: What's making you anxious?

Izumi Iori: Just, overall.

Inumaru Touma: Huh? And here I thought that a trip with the dependable Izumi and Yuki-san would be good…!

Yuki: I’m dependable?

Izumi Iori: Please don't ask me that question.

Inumaru Touma: You really are dependable! I’ve been recording and watching "NEXT Re:vale" a whole lot!

Inumaru Touma: Also, I saw the way you looked at us when we were on the show together. You were looking as if you were watching over us, and it made me straighten my back!

Yuki: Is that so. Thank you.

Yuki: Maybe because Momo was there.

Inumaru Touma: Momo-san?

Yuki: Yeah. Momo isn't with us this time so I'll have to make sure I don't space out.

Izumi Iori: ...Inumaru-san.

Inumaru Touma: Huh?

Izumi Iori: Let's do our best. We should cooperate.

Inumaru Touma: Y-Yeah...?

Yuki: We’ll have the power of a hundred people with IDOLiSH7’s brainiac Iori-kun and ŹOOĻ’s leader Touma-kun in here. (1)

Inumaru Touma: Hehe, thank you very much...! I hope I’ll be able to communicate with the locals in English at least? That's the only thing I'm a bit worried about.

Izumi Iori: I think you'll be fine. Do you have confidence in English, Inumaru-san?

Yuki: Your rap is usually so cool after all.

Izumi Iori: We have members who are fluent when they sing but completely terrible at speaking, though...

Inumaru Touma: Well, my English is just about average, but I can manage somehow! It's all about the flow and momentum!

Izumi Iori: It's really strange, but it seems like it...

Yuki: That's hilarious. Our group shouldn’t have trouble communicating with the locals then.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Since everyone here can speak English, I'll learn a lot of things!

Izumi Iori: ...Looking at Inumaru-san’s positive attitude is making me believe everything will work out fine.

Yuki: I'm counting on you, children. (2)

Yuki: Now let's hope it's not too hot.

[Cut to Taipei]

Izumi Iori: As expected… Taipei is bustling with tourists.

Yuki: That's right. 

Inumaru Touma: I was a little worried about the weather since the rainy season is right around the corner, but I’m glad it’s sunny!

Yuki: That’s right.

Izumi Iori: ...Are you okay, Yuki-san?

Yuki: I might not be right…

Inumaru Touma: Are you tired, Yuki-san? Want me to give you a piggyback ride?

Yuki: ...ŹOOĻ’s Inumaru Touma giving me a piggyback ride doesn’t sound too bad.

Izumi Iori: You don’t have to do that. This isn't "NEXT Re:vale" after all...

Yuki: You're right. But I'll suggest a segment where we carry someone and run to the finish line next time.

Inumaru Touma: Sounds fun! I think Tora would be the only one in ŹOOĻ who could carry me…!

Accompanying staff: Once again, thank you for joining us today! Here is the card containing the missions with hints written on it. We'll also give you a map of Taipei to explore around!

Inumaru Touma: Thank you very much! ...Uhh, the mission is... 

Inumaru Touma: "Make your way to the flower carpet!", or so the card says!

Izumi Iori: A carpet... in a flower field, perhaps. We should be able to narrow it down quite a bit this time of the year...

Yuki: The hint says "popular tourist spot," but the map we got doesn't seem to have anything that hints at it.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah... Then how about we go somewhere we can ask the locals?

Yuki: Good idea. Sounds like a task that fits Touma-kun's high communication skills.

Inumaru Touma: Thanks! How about Yongkang…jie? It says there are many restaurants to enjoy and walk around, there might even be some shopkeepers who know something!

Izumi Iori: ...I see, it’s Yǒngkāng jiē (Yongkang Street). I've heard that there are many stores here where Japanese is spoken because of the amount of Japanese tourists who visit, so we might be on the right track.

Yuki: Amazing, Iori-kun's extensive knowledge is coming into play now.

Yuki: Momo, our children are growing up splendidly.

Izumi Iori: What are you mumbling to the camera?

Inumaru Touma: Well then, let's go there for now! Yuki-san, you feeling better now?

Yuki: I'm fine. Let's just take it slow. It's hot.

Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Slow but steady wins the race or something. Izumi, if you’re in trouble, let me know right away! You look like the type who doesn't show that kinda thing on your face.

Izumi Iori: Oh, thank you...You truly are the one who keeps ŹOOĻ together, aren't you...

Yuki: Fufu. I'm glad we have this group after all.

End of Episode 1.

This is a pun on Momo’s name (Hundred), as he has a combination of Iori’s wits and Touma’s communication skills and leader status. 

Yuki says “kouhai-kun-tachi”, which sounds like a more endearing way to refer to his juniors with the addition of the “kun” honorifics commonly used for younger people, so I chose to translate it as children. You can still interpret it as “little juniors” if you wish!

[chaoticharrington]

Chapter One: Professor Harrington and Mr. Munson

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not much...YET.. lots of smutty smutt smutt to come. Vague mention of depression/ bad childhood/anxiety , mention of drug use/ cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being hot, Reader is in their mid 20s and Eddie and Steve are early to mid 40s

**THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND PROBABLY BLOCK. DM FOR ANY QUESTIONS**

Summary: Reader moves to the one and only Hawkins, Indiana and meets her sexy new sociology professor and realizes she might have a crush on her best friends dad..oops

Authors Note: Hi folks!!! this is so nerve wracking i've never really properly written for either of these characters before except in my head and reading lots and lots of smut! I really hope you guys like it, i'm really excited for what's to come for this series, I haven't thought of a name for it yet so i'm just going to go chapter by chapter but its gonna be a fucking wild ride so buckle your seat belts :) 4k words (Also older Eddie pic by the lovely @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

**Chapter Two**

Were you doing the right thing? Could you do this on your own? What if you failed?

Your head filled with doubt now that your dreams you’ve had since you graduated high school were now coming to fruition. You saved up all the money you could, working odd jobs for a few years after high school to have enough money to get out of your hometown and into a good college states away.

You shake away all the negative thoughts, no. This had to work you were going to make sure it worked. This is your new start, to create your own life. It had to be better than back home, where no one gave a shit about you and your own parents didn’t care enough to stick around after you graduated high school, not that they were the most involved parents to begin with anyways. Even the friends you had back home were just party related or friends of friends, you were always on the outside looking in, never properly fitting anywhere. The only reason you decided to move specifically to Hawkins was because your only real friend, Violet, that you’ve had since you were 12 had moved here 10 years ago and you’d made a pact long ago that if you ever got out of that town, you’d follow her here.

You pinch your fingers to the bridge of your nose, willing the thought of your parents and back home to go back into the little dark corner of your brain. You can’t breakdown now, not right before your first class, how pathetic would that be?

“Focus focus focus, come on you got this.” you muttered quietly to yourself over and over until the anxiety subsided. You take a deep breath, willing your lungs to fill with air to cool down your buzzing insides. You look in your car mirror to make sure your makeup still looked good and fidgeted with your clothes.

You were never one to obsess over your appearance by any means, but you really wanted to make a good first impression. You had your hair pulled up into a butterfly clip and had on your favorite dress a pair of black tights and your trusty Dr. Martens. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and grab your bookbag and get out of your car. You look on your phone to triple check that you were in the right place, the last thing you needed was to be lost or even worse late to your first class.

You’d only moved into your apartment off campus the day before so you haven’t had time to look around the town or get used to your surroundings yet. You noted that your car didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Your car was a few years old and was always something of an insecurity for you. But most of the cars that filled the almost completely full parking lot were older or used cars, which put you at ease. You head into the Humanities and Social Sciences building and check for a fourth time, Sociology 101 room E142 Professor Harrington.

The room is much bigger than you thought, chairs and desks circling the podium at the front of the room. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the room was only half full of other stressed out looking students preparing for their day ahead. You decide to pick a seat towards the middle of the room to not look too eager.

As you’re getting your laptop and books out of your bookbag you hear footsteps walking into the room and the girls behind you immediately start giggling and whispering to each other. You look to see where they’re looking hoping they aren’t making fun of you, you see them biting their lips and looking at the front of the class. You follow their eyeline and your breath hitches.

Where your sociology professor should be standing is an Adonis, he has thick honey brown hair, peppered with grey, that frame his handsome face. His skin impossibly sun kissed like he’d just come back from a tropical island and not living in Hawkins, Indiana. He smiles nervously at the class; his smile is warmer than the sun despite his nervousness, warming you from the inside out. He’s wearing a white button down covered by a navy blue sweater, a pair of grey slacks and black high top converse.

“Ahoy folks! Are you guys ready to set sail on this vast ocean called Sociology with me? I’ll be your Captain Professor Harrington!” he claps his hands, his eyes waiting and hoping for a response.

The girls behind you giggle and a few other students around the room follow suit, he sighs contently. He goes onto explaining the syllabus and assignments for this semester. The class flies by, he’s easy to listen and pay attention to, sure his looks help but he seems genuinely interested in what he’s teaching. Which is a breath of fresh air, you diligently take notes, making sure not to miss anything. Before you know it, class is over and people start packing up their things.

“Oh class before I forget, if any of you are commuters, come get a parking pass from me unless you want a ticket.” he announces to the class, most of the class you assume living in the dorms hurry out of the room.

“Because not only are we charging students tuition we are also charging students just to park on campus, capitalism at its finest folks,” he snorts, shakes his head, and walks to his desk leaning against it.

After finally putting all your things away and checking where your next class is you head up to him. Just being near him makes your heart beat a million miles a minute, like your unworthy of being in his presence let alone so close to him.

He smiles warmer and wider as you stand in front of him, “Hey what can I do ya for?” he asks brightly.

“Oh, uh, I just need a parking pass if that’s okay,” you say quietly.

“More than okay my dear!” he declared. You blush at his words while he picks around in his desk drawer for a parking pass. His nose scrunches up in frustration as the digging becomes hastier and more urgent.

“I coulda swore I put em in here… or did I leave them in my office?... shit,” he breathes.

You giggle at his disorganization, and he looks up at you embarrassed, you wondered how a man who looks like how he does could ever be embarrassed about anything. The girls who sit behind you would agree.

“I promise I’m not usually this discombobulated.. just uh first days always come sooner than I think.” he chuckles

You nod knowingly at him “No worries I can always get it tomorrow or something.” you say waving his worries off.

He looks up at you through his glasses relieved “Really? That- that would be amazing. I would go grab them from my office, but I don’t think I have enough time to before my next class.” He studies you for a second like he’s actually looking at you for the first time.

“What’s your name again hun?” he says casually, as he opens his computer and types on his keyboard.

Your heart flutters at the continued use of nicknames, you take a second to study him again before you respond. He’s hunched over his desk, typing and clicking away on his computer like he’s searching for something. His eyes crinkled at the edges with age, memories of many days smiling and being in the sun. You notice his freckles that adorn his face and neck that you couldn’t see during class. If you had it your way, you’d take your time to count them all to try and make sense of his godly beauty. And his hands.. his hands look so strong effortlessly gliding across his keyboard.

You must have taken too long to answer because he looks up at you expectantly and raises his eyebrow and smirks. You shake your head slightly trying to regain your composure.

“S-sorry first day jitters, my heads a bit scrambled,” you confess to him. You tell him your name quickly, you hoped that your cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

His eyes softened a bit and nodded and continued to type on his computer for a couple more seconds before turning to you again.

“I emailed campus security to let them know that it’s my fault you don’t have a pass and if they do give you a ticket just bring it to me and I’ll sort it out for you, okay?” he states and steps away from his computer to face you again.

“Oh wow thank you so much Mr. Harrington, I really appreciate it!” you chirp

His face scrunches up at the name, and chuckles, some of his honey brown hair falling in front of his face, his hand ready to catch them and put the strands back in place. You were mesmerized.

“Uh Mr. Harrington is my father, call me Steve er Professor Harrington works to if you don’t want to be on a first name basis.” He says kindly

“Oh well thank you regardless…Steve.” his name sounds foreign but good on your tongue. You stare at your shoes and then realize that you’ve been in here looking at your professor for far too long.

What the fuck were you thinking? He probably thinks you’re insane but is too nice to say so.

“Ya of course,” he dismisses you easily.

“Anyways I don’t wanna keep you, have a good day,” you apologize.

"You too Y/N,” he calls, as you head out the door, glad that your back is to him so he can’t see you blush again just because he said your first name.

“Get it the fuck together.” you mutter to yourself as you walk aimlessly out of his classroom.

The rest of the day goes without a hitch, you find yourself actually excited for the upcoming topics in your classes. You’ve never given yourself the opportunity to properly nerd out about the things you’re interested in.

You finally get back to your car after all your classes and groan at the sight of a ticket stuck onto your windshield.

“Fuck…” you whine

Too tired to get it taken care of today you drive home and plop on your bed. Even though your classes were super interesting, it was very mentally draining. Extra draining because you’ve tried to force your brain to focus on classes and not think about your sexy sociology professor.

Was he this nice to all his students? Did you catch him eyeing you up while you were talking or were your eyes playing tricks on you? You keep trying to reassure yourself he is just really nice. But his hands… his smile…

You groan and rub your hands against your face trying to shake all the whirling thoughts out of your head. You force yourself to think about literally anything else, then your tummy rumbles. You haven’t had time to grocery shop considering you had just moved in yesterday and your fridge was completely empty except for some bottles of water and condiments.

Your phone buzzes next to you on your bed, you open it and smile.

“BITCHHHH I MISS U COME OVER! You’ve been in Hawkins over 24 hours & ive gotten radio silence from u! ur presence is being requested in the munson household immediately!

P.S Bring food my dad is starving me over here”

“At your service m’lady, cheeseburgers good?” you respond quickly

“ur a life saver babe<3”

Your mind drifts away from your professor and the ticket that is burning a hole in your bookbag. This place already feels more like home than any time you’ve ever spent where you were born. You missed your best friend so much. Violet Munson has been your ride or die best friend for as long as you can remember. You two became friends when you were sitting alone in the lunch room one day and she came and sat right down next to you and you two have been inseparable ever since… that is until her dad decided to move her back to Hawkins to be closer to family after the divorce right before freshman year. You had been crushed getting your best friend ripped away from you like that, but then you guys made the pack to get out of dodge when you could, and now you’re here… in Hawkins,Indiana.

You change into comfy clothes and grab some cheeseburgers, fries, and onion rings from the only burger joint in town and headed over to the Munson residence. You’ve never actually been to her house before because your parents never allowed you to visit after she moved away, so you two mostly kept in contact over constant texts and lots of facetiming.

Pulling up to her house you were more nervous than you thought, you hadn’t seen her in so long and hoped things wouldn’t be awkward. You turned off the ignition, grabbed the food, and went to open your door when you heard a scream come from the front of the house. You lift your eyes to see your best friend jumping up and down on the front porch in her pajamas. Violet had long bright purple hair and thick black eyeliner, kind eyes, a wide smile, and an infectious laugh.

“YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE REALLY FUCKING HERE HOLY SHIT!”

You laughed and dropped all the food in the front seat of your car and ran to meet her in the middle of her lawn and tackled her to the ground. You hugged her tight, squeezing your eyes together wishing the tears at the corner of your eyes to go away.

“Vi I missed you so fucking much.” you whisper

“Awe babe I missed you too.” she shares

You both get up off the grass and you grab the food and head inside. You set the food down in front of the tv like you used to do when she lived closer to you. You sit down on the couch and while she grabs plates. You sigh deeper into the couch, everything was just picking up exactly where you two had left off, you were gonna be okay. You smile quietly to yourself and then head to the kitchen to help her bring everything into the living room. You decide to watch a new horror movie that just came out, the two of you always bonding over everything creepy and spooky. You let Violet tell you about her partner Quinn, who she met a few years ago and was head over heels in love with.

Then the front doorknob jingled, and you heard the familiar thud of heavy boots.

“Ho- holy shit is that Y/N?!”

You turn to face the familiar voice at the door. “Hey Mr. Munson, long time no see!” you breathe.

Fuckk… when did Vi’s dad get so... hot?... what the hell is wrong with you today? First your sociology professor and now your best friends DAD?!

He grins widely at you just like his daughter, he shrugs out of his boots and walks into the living room.

“I got you a cheeseburger on my way over, still like double meat and cheese on your burger?” you question.

Mr. Munson puts a hand over his heart and falls into the love seat next to the tv.

“You remembered, I’m touched sweetheart.” he beamed.

“oh yeah no problem at all!” you blush.

“Well I’ll let you guys catchup, don’t need me harshing the vibes, Vi’s been nonstop talking about you coming to Hawkins  a month!” he chattered

Out of the corner of your eye you see Violet roll her eyes at her father.

“Dad no one fucking says “harshing the vibes” anymore or at all, you’re aging yourself old man,” she chortles

Mr. Munson chuckles and puts his hands up in the air in surrender “Alright alright I’m leaving, if you guys need anything I’ll be in the garage. Thanks again for the burger Y/N!” he says kindly holding up the burger in one of his large tattooed hands.

You beam up at him happy to help, and this time you get a good look at your best friends dad. He’s aged so much better than you could ever imagine a man with Mr. Munsons lifestyle to ever age, the expression aged like fine wine captures it perfectly.

His brown hair still wild and curly as its always been but tied up into a low bun at the base of his neck. Only difference is the now visible little grey streaks that run through random curls. He has more laugh lines at the side of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Still wearing his normal garb, black jeans with loads of rips, a band tee with a leather jacket. His chocolate brown eyes still full of mischief and debauchery. His nose ring ever present but you spy a few more additions to his tattoo collection, specifically a new neck tattoo and a few more on his hands.

Fuck his hands… wait you have to answer him. Answer him before it’s weird that you’ve been staring at him so long.. you’re really on a fucking roll today.

“It was my pleasure Mr. Munson really,” you gush.

He gives you a wink that goes straight to your core and vibrates in your bones and heads to the garage.

Violet didn’t seem to notice how flushed you were, eyes still on the screen, interjecting at random times when a scene looks to fake or when the blood splattering doesn’t look real enough.

After the movie the two of you head upstairs to Vi’s room, she wanted to show you her new additions to her every growing crystal collection and a few polaroid pictures of her and her partner.

“They literally make me feel like a princess I feel so lucky, for our 3 year anniversary they gave me these black tourmaline pentagram earrings, aren’t they so cute?!”

Your heart fills with warmth, Violet has always been loud and unique, you are so happy for her that she found someone who accepts her for who she is and loves her for it.

“That’s really sweet Vi, i'm so happy you have them, and that they treat you so well,” you grin.

“Thanks… what about you though? You’ve always been very singular… looking to change that any time soon? You deserve to be happy babe, even if it just means getting laid you deserve to get some. You’re a fucking catch dude” ,she compliments

“I mean you know I had a thing with Dylan for awhile before he got back with his girlfriend...” you murmur

“Oh COME ON, you know that’s not what I mean, not some assholes rebound!” she insists

“Vi I don’t have a line down the block like you used to have, you’ve got that whole hot sexy goth girl shit going on, I’m just me.” you babble and point to your gorgeous best friend

“What about Tom? You were with Tom for a long time what happened with him?” she asks obliviously.

“Fuckin cheated on me,” you sigh. Re-living your lack of romantic endeavors to your very not single best friend being up there in the top 10 most pathetic things to date.

“Oh fuck that guy, how fucking dare he!” she sneers while she tries to light the perfectly wrapped blunt in her hand.

“Shit I think my lighters dead, can you go ask my dad if he has an extra?”

You nod and head downstairs and search for the door that leads to the garage, finally you find the door you’re looking for and the image in front of you almost makes you audibly gasp.

Mr. Munson has a cigarette between his lips hes strumming along to some metal song that he’s humming the tune to, occasionally sucking in smoke and blowing out the side of his mouth. His head bobbing to the tune of the song completely in his own world. He’s beautiful.

You look at the way his fingers move to the beat and strum the strings on his guitar, mesmerized by how pretty they are. You can see all the calloses on his hands from all of the years of playing.

Your hand moves without thinking and knocks on the side of the garage door, getting Mr. Munsons attention.

“Oh shit, hey honey, ya need something?" He questions

“oh yeah sorry, Vi’s lighter ran out, and we were trying to light a blunt, you got an extra?” You ask.

Growing up, Mr. Munson had always been the more laid back between Violets two parents, letting her test the waters herself allowing more than the normal parent would. But as long as she was being safe and not doing any hard drugs he was mostly lenient with her. Not that it mattered much now that she’s grown.

“Uh yeah I probably got one around here somewhere, come pop a squat while I look.” he gestures to the chair beside him.

Your legs wobble while you move into the garage, it smelled so uniquely of him. His leather jacket draped over the back of his chair, smoke in the air, and metal music playing lowly in the background.

His space made you feel at home, the garage door was open so you could see the sun setting in the sky, and the metal music is weirdly comforting. You find yourself tapping your feet to the beat.

Eddie went to his truck looking for an extra lighter and your eyes wander to his guitar. You can tell he really cares about it, its clean, the strings look freshly changed, and recently polished.

“Oh yeah she’s a beaut isn’t she?" He observes proudly, leaning against his car with a new found lighter in hand.

“Yeah really pretty Mr. Munson,” you remark.

He smiles at you, “Here ya go, I don’t know how much juice is left in it.” He hands you the lighter, for the few seconds your hands connect you see how much bigger his hands are than yours, it almost makes you topple over in your chair.

“Thanks,” you reply. You grab the lighter with your hand and put it in your pocket and push out of the chair headed back into the house.

“Were you always this shy?” he asks inquisitively.

You turn around to face him confused by his question, you never really considered yourself shy, it just takes some time for you to come out of your shell.

“Shy?” you reply. fidgeting with a loose string on your sweatpants, your lips in a fine line.

“Yeah..you just seem.. shy or sad maybe, you doin okay?” he presses

You sigh hard trying to find the right words to explain the last few years and what would be appropriate to share with your best friends dad. “I’m fine really, just a long few days.” you share and smile to try and make it convincing.

He clicks his tongue and you know that he doesn’t believe you, your heart sinks. You never want to put your sadness or hurt onto anyone else, you’re a big girl and you can handle it on your own. You change the subject to the empty beer glass on the table in front of him, “Need another beer?” you ask

“Read my mind darlin, thanks,” he replies.

You head to the kitchen to grab him his beer and head back to the garage to bring it to him. When you get back he’s back at it strumming on his guitar in his own world, you wish for a second maybe you could just sit in his little world with him, it’s quiet and peaceful, no thinking required. You set the beer on the table and turn to head back upstairs.

“Hey Y/N, if you need anything or even just to talk I’m around, I know I’m not Violet, but if you need another friendly face, I’m here.” he smiles warmly at you.

Your heart melts, of course he’s the sweetest man in the whole world. “Thank you Mr. Munson that really means a lot,” you blush. Thankful to have one more person in this town on your side.

You close the door behind you and rush back upstairs hoping Violet doesn’t notice how long you’ve been gone. You hear voices and giggling on the other side of the door,

She’s on the phone with Quinn.

“She’s returned! Come here I want you to meet Quinn!” she exclaims. You breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, no excuse necessary. Your friendship with Violet has always easier than breathing. You spend the rest of the night smoking weed and talking on the phone with her partner, glad to have the distraction from your recent interaction with her dad.

Did he really mean what he said? Or was he also just being nice? I guess he kind of has to be nice to me, being his daughters best friend. Plus he’s so out of my league, a man like him would never go for a girl like me, right?

Only time will tell.

No Pressure Tags!: (Just tagging some mutuals I thought might enjoy!) ** If you wanna be tagged in the next fic lemme know**

@untitled74745 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @munsonology @lesservillain @tlclick73 @dukesmebby @cozyquinn @rowanswriting @succubusmunson @teddyeyeseddie @lofaewrites @chaoticmunsons @ryan-waddell11

[fandomfucker]

I loveeee the singer and rhea headcanons you write could you do one where the reader is an actress? Maybe they meet through the reader getting cast in a movie that involves around wwe so she spends time going to matches and backstage

YES

Also, the years are different because that's how i want it and I said so🤷‍♀️

You'd have starred in that movie Fighting With My Family (just a different year though)

Since a big part of Saraya's story was Wrestlemania, you were invited to that years Wrestlemania, just a month or two before you started filming

The one you were invited to was Wrestlemania 39 and you were able to go to not only day 1, but also day 2 and got backstage VIP treatment

You got to meet a bunch (if not all) the wrestlers and had a heart-to-heart with Triple H

Rhea saw you first

She was nervous and jumping around shaking out her hands when she saw you walk down the hallway past her open door

Her heart stopped as did her nervous bounces

She kinda just automatically walked out of her room and watched you walk down the hallway until she couldn't see you anymore

She turned around and caught Dominik laughing at her

He told her who you were and told her to go for it

She didn't have the confidence until a little after winning her match against Charlotte

"Oh my god! Congratulations on your win! I'm Y/n Y/l/n, its so cool to finally meet you. You, uh, you looked really good out there."

"Yeah, you too. Thanks, uh-would you maybe, wanna, like, I dont know, get a drink or something after the show? You dont have to if you dont want to but-"

"I'd love too! And...maybe you could teach me a thing or two about wrestling?"

"Yeah, for sure"

You'd never seen her so nervous and it remained that way until she wound up proposing

But she just thought you were so fucking hot

Little did she know, you were just as affected as she was. you're just better at hiding it

soon as you walked away from yalls first meeting you were blushing and stuttering so bad someone asked if they needed to get you medical help

You were able to watch the matches from the guerilla and get a feel for the environment; the stakes, the people, the emotions, everything so that you'd be able to replicate it for the movie

You studied peoples moves, not only how they moved individually but together

Letting each other know what they were going to do, setting up, taking the bump, everything

You watched Rhea the closest though

It was just because she and Saraya seemed to have a lot in common in the way their characters looked is what you told yourself. Totally not cause she was absolutely gorgeously lethal in the ring

She helped you spare alongside the people actually hired to teach you for the movie. The wrestling with Rhea was more effective because that was her expertise

You definitely learned a lot but you only ever won when she let you

But with her looking the way she does when she riptides you, losing really doesn't sting too bad

You officially start dating around the time the movie comes out later that year, she was your date to the premiere and you guys wore matching outfits and it was perfect

Once you moved on to other projects, Rhea found solace in watching some of your previous stuff she hadn't seen before but found that she could NOT stand watching you scream or cry or be covered in blood (and god forbid a combination of the three)

You woke up once at 2 am to a call from her, checking to make sure you were ok and to hear your voice after she watched a show where your character was tortured nearly to death

She doesn't watch any of your horror/sci-fi stuff anymore

Shes always your premiere date though unless she absolutely has to work in which case you just go alone, but together you always match

She does love the stuff your in where youre not being harmed though and she'll watch them over and over again

She has at least one poster from everyone of your projects up somewhere in her house

Plus an abundance of your merch

Like way too much for any normal person

Kinda gives off Tom Holland and Zendaya vibes, but you each think that you're Tom and your girlfriend is Zendaya (if that makes sense)

Rhea about has a stroke when she find out you guest starred in an episode of Supernatural when you were younger

The Fighting With My Family movie is Rhea's favorite though and harbors the most merch since thats how yall met

You've gone to a ton of PPEs and RAWs since you started dating and fans freak out every time

[mx-pastelwriting]

Sick Day

Pierre Chavanges x GN! Reader

Summary: Taking care of Pierre and the farm while he’s sick.

Warnings: Sick Symptoms, Fluff, Farm Work, Kissing

Waking in the cool morning to the sound of a cough and a congested snuffle echoing in the room, looking over seeing Pierre lying on his back, looking out the window.

Shifting away, causing him to look over at you, smiling while trying to pull in, "You're sick," you say, breaking the morning silence while pushing away from his chest. "No," he denies, finally giving up only because of the coughs that erupted from his throat. Moving away just in time, then getting up from the bed and dressed before walking over to your pair of clean work boots then putting them on.

Watching as he tries to get up but fails as you push his chest down, "You need to rest. I'll take care of the farm today," you state, then kissing his messed head. Hearing a sigh, knowing he couldn't protest it, walking out, starting the coffee on your way out for when you come back in.

Going over the cows, opening the gate, leading them into the milking station, feeding them first, then cleaning their udders, checking some to make sure they produce milk, then placing the cup. Checking things over multiple times, then, as they finish, bringing in the next set of cows.

Finishing the milking, then guiding the cows back to the field before going back into the house. Opening the front door to Pierre standing in the kitchen getting coffee, smiling at him as you take off your shoes, then placing them outside.

"Feeling better?" You say this, walking to him and feeling his warm forehead. He nods, knowing that was a lie, as he looked like shit. Watching as he sat at the table as you moved to make breakfast, making something close to a soup for him to help his body fight.

Eating it quickly before giving him another kiss, then going back out to finish the farm work, getting into the tractor turning it on before racking up the hay to move it. Back up, looking out the window, you see Raymond walking over, turning off the tractor, hearing the old man.

"Hey Raymond," you greet, poking out to hear him. "Good morning. Where is Pierre?" He asks, walking closer. "His sick today; it's just me," your response makes him frown. "I hope he gets better," he says, nodding in response.

"I'll let him know, and let us know if you need more hay," you say, trying to end the conversation to get back in the house before lunch. Thankfully, he walks away, letting you finish up your work.

Making it back to the house, going in to see the living room and kitchen empty, "Pierre," you call out, not getting a response. Searching the house, not finding him anywhere, knowing exactly where he was.

Rushing out of the house to the barn, stopping at the open barn door seeing him tending to the pregnant cow. Noticing you making his state visible, looking worse than this morning, you stand there saying nothing as he gets up to walk to the house. Following him still not speaking as you prepare lunch with him trying to help as an apology.

Leading him to the bedroom getting him into bed before going to the bathroom to shower. Knowing he couldn't just go cold turkey to working on the farm, telling him no would only work for so long, but he knew rest was needed.

Getting out and dressed, being welcomed with the sight of Pierre resting in bed, having finished your work for the afternoon, the rest of the day is free for you to take care of him. Going to the kitchen, fixing him up a hearty meal, then bringing it to him in bed, seeing the tray you carried, he started to sit up.

"You don't have to do this," he said with a scratchy voice. "Of course I do; I care about you," responding while setting down the tray with food in his lap then fixing the pillows behind him. Going back to the kitchen, grabbing yourself some, then back to the bedroom to eat with Pierre.

After eating, taking his temperature, seeing it high, you move quickly to grab some cold food bags then place them on his body, but not without protest. "It's cold," he whines. "I know, but you're hot," you say, fixing the bags, not seeing his smug face. "I'm hot," he asks with a smile. "You know what I mean," you say, slapping his arm lightly as he laughed, which ended with a coughing fit.

Pinning back his hair from the sweat that covered his forehead, going into the bathroom, grabbed a small towel, and wetting it to wipe away the sweat from his body. Not noticing his blue eyes on you, meeting his tired eyes. "Je t'aime," he says, almost in a mumble. "I love you too," you respond with a smile, then kissing him on the head.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @caramel-hufflepuff

[brokendeathangel]

EVERYONEEEEE! Check it out! @csdp-disasterhotline turned my silly Jack Spicer meme art into a credit card sticker! Haha! I'm tickled pink and laughed so much looking at their super cool and evil credit card XD Really, I'm so happy you enjoyed my silly Jack art. Thank you for making me remember why I love drawing silly things. ;w; <3

Now go out there and shop/spend evilly (but not too evil or else Jack won't have a job)! Hehehe XD

[fieldofdaisiies]

azriel x eris | 5,2k words | warnings: none, wording might be a little vulgar in some parts | masterlist

“You are my mate,” Eris repeats. 

Unquenchable desire and longing start to brew within him. It is all Eris feels, despite his pain, when his hooded gaze roams over Azriel. 

But the feeling dims slightly when he watches his mate’s expression. There is nothing on Azriel’s face. Not a hint of shock, or surprise. Not even anger.

Nonchalance, or is it ignorance? Whatever it is, it makes Eris slightly angry. And deep within his heart it hurts. The prince‘s lips part in an attempt to vent his displeasure about Azriel’s ignorance, but the shadowsinger is faster.

“I know.” Azriel’s velvety, cool voice sends a lick of heat through Eris, stimulating every small inch of his body.

“Since when do you know?” Eris tries to sit up further so that he can get on eye-level with Azriel. “How did you find out? When did you find out?”

The shadowsinger’s shoulders droop, his chin lowering to his chest as well. He gives his head a little shake. “I‘ve never known for sure, but I started to feel a tug on my chest after rescuing you from Briallyn. I started to feel it more often and whenever someone mentioned your name, it got more intense and when—fuck!”

Azriel slams his hand over his face, then drags it down.

“It fucking tore me apart. I felt your pain through the bond, Eris. When Beron…when he hurt you, I felt it. That’s when I knew for sure. That’s when I knew you are my mate.”

His body fully on his own accord leans toward the Vanserra male, forehead resting against Eris‘. “I felt it all, and I knew what it meant. Your pain was so strong, that in that moment I couldn’t care less about what it meant to be mated to my arch nemesis. I only had to find you.” The corner of his mouth kicks up despite the persistent pain within his heart. 

Even Eris has to chuckle at what Azriel said, the noise soft and purely male, his breath warm when it brushes Azriel’s skin.

“I needed to get to you. To check on you. To take care of you.” Another tear slips out of Azriel’s eye but he tries to blink it away. He isn’t fast enough and so Eris catches it on his thumb and then brings his lips to his mates.

“I‘ve known since the damn High Lord’s meeting.”

Azriel’s eyes open quickly. “For so long.”

“Just like you, just like my mate, it was hard for me to accept it.” He cracks a smile and his cheeks warm at the mention of mate. “I‘ve never allowed myself to accept it. Or even entertain the thought of what it means.” He brushes his fingers over Azriel‘s cheek and kisses him again.

“There is so much between us — a past, hate, differences, hurt, regret, a whole lot of things we said to each other, words that can‘t be taken back.”

“You don’t have to accept the bond,” Azriel quickly says and it is almost like a bolt of burning pain spears into his heart. His soul. The hurt spreads, and his chest feels heavy. 

“I‘ve never said that I don’t want to accept the bond — Hel, I haven’t even entertained the thought of accepting it yet.” Eris shakes his head. “I want a mating bond. I want someone at my side who I can love unconditionally. Who loves me unconditionally. Someone who I can consult in court matters and who provides me with the necessary distraction and comfort once court business is over for the day. I want someone who—”

“Cares.” Azriel shuts his mouth and his eyes. 

“Yes.” Eris‘ voice is barely above a whisper. Tentatively, he leans in, closing his mouth over Azriel’s lips, kissing him deeply. “Say that you want me,” Eris mumbles before he kisses the corner of Azriel’s mouth.

“I want you, you bastard, and you know it,” Azriel groans. “I desire you. I need you.” Their lips are sealed once more.

They lose track of time. Of space. Minutes pass. Or hours, days weeks, years. It doesn’t matter. Everything fades into significance for as long as their lips touch. Only when out of breath, do they part and Azriel straightens up. He moves to change his position on the bed, and Eris' heart drops – Azriel is going to leave already.

“Stay.” Eris‘ hand instinctively curls around the spymaster’s wrist, feeling the marred skin against his soft palm. “Stay with me tonight. You can leave before the sun rises. But for now. Please, stay.” Eris swallows thickly. “Please.”

A flicker of hesitation passes over Azriel’s face, and is soon replaced by unease. Worry. The shadowsinger doesn’t have to say anything, it is all in his eyes, and Eris brushes his thumb over the back of Azriel’s hand. “Not for sex.”

The shadowsinger lifts his chin, and the look he wears is far from his usual expression. There is no cold in it, no indifference. His cheeks are rosy and his lips form a sheepish smile. 

“Huh?” Azriel raises a brow, but then has to chuckle. “This is not where my worry comes from. What if Beron catches us here, he will hurt you–”

“He can’t find me here – can’t find us here. This place is protected by my magic.”

Azriel finds himself nodding slowly, accepting this answer. They should truly be safe here.

“But concerning what you said…” He clears his throat. “I have never been with a male before,” he admits silently. “Hel, I‘ve not even kissed a male before you.”

“Good,” Eris says and his voice edges on a growl.

Azriel’s cock tightens at the noise, but he keeps holding Eris‘ gaze, despite his lids now feeling a little heavier.

“It does something for my pride to be your first.” He smirks, but the expression fades quickly, his hand clasping Azriel’s tightly. “Only if you allow me to, of course.”

The shadowsinger leans in again, hating that there is so much distance between them, his forehead resting against Eris‘ once more, their noses brushing. “I have hated you so much, for such a long time — or that was what I thought.” His eyes close, voice heavy with emotion. “But I have to be honest with myself now, and let me tell you, there‘s nothing I would want more than that.”

Azriel‘s lips brush the prince‘s. Only swiftly and then his lips curl. “If I stay here tonight, can you hold me in your arms?”

Eris‘ body stiffens, and his throat works on a swallow. “Yes, whatever you want, Azriel.”

The spymaster removes Truth-Teller, carefully laying it down on the ground beside the bed, then he strips out of his boots, placing them beside his hunting knife. He climbs onto the bed – this time completely–, his heart beating in his throat when Eris makes room for him, moving carefully due the still fresh wounds and newly-opened scars on his body. Eris lies down on his side, and Azriel curls up against him, head fitting in right beneath Eris‘ chin, the heir’s arm sliding around the spymaster’s waist.

“Your hair…” Eris inhales a deep breath.

“Yes?” Azriel shifts closer, so close their bodies are melding, fronts pressed against one another, Eris‘ hand resting where Azriel’s wing is connected to his body.

“You smell nice.” Eris laughs softly and it makes his chest vibrate against Azriel’s head. The shadowsinger soaks up the noise, the deep, hoarse sound and revels in it. He loves it and slowly, despite the massive pile of problems that lay between them, his heart seems to have arrived.

He has never been held like that. Not since he was a little boy.

Cassian has often draped an arm over his body, holding him tightly. But only after they had passed out somewhere in the House of Wind, after a night full of liquor, and getting absolutely drunk. It was never in a romantic way…

Azriel is nervously nibbling on his lower lip because he can’t quite place his emotions. This should be weird and odd and strange, and he shouldn’t enjoy it so much. Not when the male in whose arms he finds himself lying is Eris Vanserra. But it feels so damn right, his soul singing the most beautiful melody, warming his chest from the inside out, the bond’s golden threads finally being able to reach for their counterpart. 

“You think we can make–” Eris clears his throat. “You think there can truly be something between us?” 

“More than secret meetings and kisses in the dark?”

Eris brushes his lips over Azriel’s head, his hold tightening. “Mhm.”

“I don’t know how to tell my family,” Azriel answers honestly, his face still buried in Eris' chest. He can’t look at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to bear the look in his eyes. The possible hurt there. The potential sadness.

It is almost like Eris can read his mind. Warm fingers curl around Azriel’s chin and he is forced to look up at his mate. Despite his worries, he doesn’t find hurt in Eris’ eyes. Only understanding. Sympathy. Warmth.

“You don’t need to tell them. Not now. We can see what there truly is between us and if it works out. If our desire is enough to become something more. To turn into something. Something that is love. You can always tell them later.”

Their gazes lock. “You have doubts about this bond? About…us being able to love each other?”

Eris caresses Azriel’s cheek, tenderness etched into every line of his face. He leans in and kisses the shadowsinger‘s brow. “A lot has happened between us. A lot of bad things, Azriel. It is not so easy, we won’t just fall in love with each other and forget everything that has happened in the past.”

Eris closes his eyes when they start to line with tears. “I‘m scared that there will forever be something between us…an obstacle we can’t overcome. I haven’t allowed myself to even consider liking you for so long, and—”

“We can manage this.” Azriel places his palm flat against his mate’s chest. “Not a long time ago, I would have never even thought about you and I being anything else other than enemies. I would have never considered kissing you, or lying in your arms…things change. ”

Azriel pushes up on his elbow and hence leaves Eris‘ embrace. But only half, the prince‘s hand falls to his hip, staying there.

“Now you are all and everything I can think about. All I want, and need. I think about you all the time and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t bear the feeling of being away from you for too long. That’s why I was constantly sneaking around in Autumn.” Azriel’s chest lifts with a deep inhale. “It all reached its peak when I felt your pain today…it shredded my heart into pieces and all I could think about was getting to you as fast as possible.” 

A stray tear escapes the corner of Eris’ eye. “You saved me.”

“No, Eris, you saved me.” 

The heir’s brows furrow, but before he can continue, Azriel offers him an explanation. “I felt like I was falling into an endless pit of darkness, but now that there is the possibility of this,”– using his hand he motions between them– “, between us turning into something more, into something beautiful, some light is filling my life again. And I know it will change everything and I know explaining to my family won’t be easy, but…” 

Something akin to a breathy sob leaves Azriel. Eris digs his fingertips into his waist, his lower lip trembling.

“I want to explore this bond with you. I want to talk with you about everything that has happened between us and overcome every obstacle that has been put into our path, Eris. I want us to share stories of our childhood, our fears and our hopes and dreams,” Azriel says and slides his scarred hand to Eris' throat, fingers curling. “I want you. And I will forever hold onto the hope of us eventually falling in love.”

“Azriel,” Eris starts, but his voice cracks. “I want you too.” He makes them roll over, and as he settles on top of Azriel, he grinds his hips against the other’s and it elicits the most beautiful, male noise from the spymaster.

Their lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss, teeth clacking, hands roaming and exploring the other’s body. The first brush of Eris‘ tongue against Azriel’s, makes the spymaster feel alive, electric. Eris tastes like firewood, earthy and musky. Like charred wood mingled with the subtle yet spicy sweetness of cinnamon. Like a flickering fireplace on a crisp evening, smokey and warm. Eris tastes like home.

Flames of need burn beneath his skin with every flick of Eris‘ tongue. Azriel’s balls draw tight and he allows himself to groan, the sound pure, and primal when it slips through his lips.

At the noise, purely male smugness fills Eris and he grazes his teeth along Azriel’s lip, then lower to his jaw, and his neck. Letting his tongue glide over Azriel’s skin he drinks in his scent, moaning when the smell seeps into his nostrils and infuses his mind. 

But he can’t stay away from the shadowsinger’s lips for too long — they are too inviting and the taste of Azriel too beguiling.

Azriel’s hand glides down the solid, corded back of the heir, and when his palm smoothes over Eris‘ rear, he squeezes, feeling how his muscles tense.

“Mine.” Eris flicks his tongue against Azriel’s. The shadowsinger’s hips jerk in answer, back bowing slightly, wings twitching and a strangled groan leaves his throat.

“Surely no sex?” Azriel teases, voice breathy and hoarse.

Eris‘ teeth sink into his skin. “No,” he growls, “because when I fuck you for the first time I want us to do it in a proper bed.”

He moves off Azriel, and pulls the stunned shadowsinger flush to his chest, their bodies perfectly fitting against one another. “Sleep now, Shadowsinger.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Eris has always been pale. Very pale. As white as the walls in the Moonstone Palace.

But right now, as Azriel gazes at him, his lips involuntarily form a grimace — Eris is almost translucent. Cold sweat coats his forehead and his limbs tremble.

This is not good, Azriel knows this. This is actually really bad, his bloodstream must have collapsed or is close to doing so.

"Eris," Azriel whispers, dragging his scarred fingers down the side of Eris‘ face. "Wake."

The Autumn Court heir only shifts, his lids barely opening, but his lips form a lazy smile. "Azriel." Eris‘ voice is so soft, so full of…love, Azriel‘s heart can’t barely take it. 

"Is this a dream or is this real?"

"Can’t it be both," Azriel answers, smiling at the memory — months ago he gave him that very same answer.

"This time it feels real," Eris hums and his eyes open. He looks at Azriel through a heavy-lidded gaze, chest rising and falling with laboured breaths.

"Because it is real." Azriel wants to lean in, seal their lips together, but the moment his forehead touches Eris‘ hot and sweat-covered skin, he is reminded of the prince‘s condition. His alarm bells ring anew.

"When did you last eat?"

Eris doesn’t answer and so Azriel moves his hand lower, to Eris‘ shoulder, shaking him softly. "Eris, answer my question."

"I don’t remember."

"You need to eat, and drink."

"I need to hold you, Azriel," Eris answers matter-of-factly.

To make his point clear, Eris tightens his hold on Azriel, but the shadowsinger has none of it. Eris needs food and water, and that within the next seconds.

So, he lets his head fall into the crook of Eris‘ shoulder, and kisses his skin. Simultaneously his hand glides down to Eris waist, then to his backside.

"Eris," he rasps, and the Autumn Court heir‘s hips buck in response. "You need to eat!"

With that Azriel pushes up, slipping out of Eris’ hold that has turned a little sluggish.

"Can I find food here?"

Water he knows is here, he has cleaned Eris‘ wounds earlier. But food! Hopefully, Eris has something stored here.

Eris doesn’t answer immediately, he only shifts on the bed, pinning Azriel with a look. "I‘ll eat tomorrow."

"I won’t be discussing that." Azriel pads toward the make-shift kitchen, and on a dusty shelf within one of the weathered cupboards he truly finds a stale piece of bread. 

"You are bossy," he hears Eris say behind him, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "It‘s not like you don’t like it."

Azriel’s chuckling, though, is cut short. 

"Do you like me?"

Azriel almost drops the piece of bread and the glass of water in his other hand. His eyes widen and for a moment he only stares at the heir. It is all he can do, but then he breathes in deeply and squares his shoulders and walks toward the bed.

 "I wouldn’t be taking care of you if I didn’t like you," he answers in his usual cold and emotionless voice and sits down on the bed, handing Eris the glass of water. "I don’t know when loathing turned into liking, but—"

"I think this is what the bond does." Eris takes a sip, then another one and then gulps down the whole glass.

"I knew you were thirsty," Azriel says, almost a little triumphantly. "But no, I don’t think so. Not entirely at least."

Eris pushes up on his elbow. "What do you mean?" The only explanation he has ever had for liking Azriel was the bond.

"With the bond’s involvement, I started to think more about you, reflect about things you said to me, I said to you, how you reacted. I considered our interactions a little more deeply, and I slowly started to understand you better."

Eris‘ throat bobs when he swallows, and with all the strength he has left in him, he pushes up on his hand so he is on eye-level with Azriel. The shadowsinger’s scarred hands fumble with the piece of bread, tearing off a smaller piece, but Eris closes his hand over Azriel’s, stopping him.

"I can’t accept food from you," he tells him. "Not yet at least." Eris lifts their connected hands to his lips, kissing each of Azriel’s scarred knuckles and awareness dawns on the spymaster…

"I will eat when I return to the Forest House tomorrow morning, I’ll be fine."

Slowly, Azriel begins to nod. "Promise me?"

Eris slides his hand down Azriel’s arm, up to his shoulder, pulling him in. "I promise," he whispers and kisses him so softly that tears start to build up in the shadowsinger’s eyes. "Have you had someone to look out for you when you were a child, Azriel?"

The shadowsinger shakes his head, then rests his forehead against Eris‘. "For a long time I didn’t. My mother did when I was very later, but she couldn’t always take care of me. Many years later, Rhys and Cass."

Eris sighs. "It’s the same with my mother." His eyes close. "You have no idea how much I appreciate what you are doing for me right now. How much…what it means to me. I have always been alone after he…hurt me. I’ve never had anyone to take care of me, to tend to my wounds apart from healers. I will forever be grateful that you are here tonight, and that you didn’t leave me alone with the darkness. With the demons in my mind."

His lips brush Azriel’s once again. A single tear slips out of the spymaster’s eye, and he curls one arm around Eris, careful of the wounds that still have not fully healed.

With a voice, heavy with emotion, the shadowsinger says, "After the ball in the Hewn City you asked me about my scars."

Eris’ nod is shallow, and Azriel can feel his patience. He won’t push him, lets him find his time to open up. 

"My step-brothers wanted to test my Illyrian healing powers. They poured oil over my hands and set them on fire." 

He holds onto his mate, Eris‘ scent lingering in his nose is everything he needs to calm himself.

"Are they dead?"

"They have been taken care of, yes!"

"Fucking beasts," Eris growls. “I would behead them all myself if they still were.” A lethal fire starts to glow in Eris’ eyes that tells Azriel that he truly means it. 

But his demeanour shifts, a softer, warmer expression passing over his face, and in a more composed voice, he adds, "Together we can learn to no longer fear fire, to find beauty in it and not only see the haunting memories and ugly side of it."

"Together." Azriel smiles, almost a little sheepishly, and a hum vibrates from his throat. "You shouldn’t be scared of your own powers."

Eris’ chin drops to his chest, and he huffs coldly. “"I’m scared these powers will one day turn me into him, that I one day will be the same monstrous and cruel beast my father has turned into."

"You won’t!" Azriel’s voice is sure and stern, loud. “I know this.”

But Eris shakes his head. “You don’t, Azriel. He doomed my soul. There is a darkness within me I can’t always fight. I have bad thoughts and sometimes act on them. So what if this darkness will one day win. What if I—"

Azriel claims his mate’s mouth in a deep kiss that quickly turns from passionate to ravishing. It becomes a dance of tongues, a symphony of gasps and soft groans, when their lips meld. "I won’t let this happen," Azriel assures him, nipping at the corner of Eris‘ mouth. Slowly he lowers himself to bed, stretching out his wings, the ends draped over the edge of the bed. He brings Eris with him, making sure the heir carefully lies down on the not so sensitive parts of his wings.Eris nuzzles into him.

"I won‘t let it get this far. Even if we don’t accept this bond, I will make sure of it. I will always be there to remind you that deep within your chest you are good – that you have a good heart, Eris Vanserra."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“It‘s still dark.” Eris kisses the spot right below Azriel’s ear and feels how the shadowsinger shudders in reaction. “We still have time.” His mouth opens a little wider, and he nips at his skin. His lips slide to Azriel’s throat, and the shadowsinger‘s pulse leaps when Eris finds the spot right above the collar of his Illyrian leathers.

Eris pulls back with a smirk, slumping back against the pillow.

Azriel drops his boot, shifting back into the bed, lying down next to Eris once again, his lips curling when he takes in Eris’ drowsy expression. He wants to wake up to the sight of it every damn day of his life, then kiss the life out of the heir, and stay tangled between the sheets until breakfast is ready, fucking or slow lovemaking – everything. 

“What are you thinking about?” Eris hums, his hooded gaze dropping to Azriel’s lips. 

“All the wicked ways in which I want you to claim me.” Azriel grins at him and Eris knows he has never seen a more beautiful sight. His lips part, but no words leave him. He truly is too stunned about Azriel’s honesty, and what he said. And his beauty. 

“Share them with me!” Eris places his hand against the side of Azriel’s throat, feeling his pulse quicken beneath his warm skin. He gently brushes his thumb over the stubble on Azriel’s jaw. “Tell me.”

Azriel snickers, and lowers his gaze. “What can I say…I have never sucked a High Lord’s cock before.” He meets Eris’ gaze again with a smirk on his lips. 

The future High Lord grins, his eyes lighting up. “What a coincidence – I’ve never had a shadowsinger suck my cock before.”

Both of them have to laugh at that, their souls feeling so much lighter all of a sudden, their smiles radiant despite what is happening outside the confines of this hut.

“I have also never touched wings before,” Eris drawls. “Are the rumours true that they are very sensitive?” 

Azriel’s dick hardens at the mention of his wings and the possibility of having Eris play with them. He gives him no immediate answer, only chases the prince’s lips, kissing him deeply, his leg wrapping around Eris thigh. “You shall find out when we accept the bond.”

“Mhm, I cannot wait.” 

In the moments that follow, they are smiling at each other, drawing soft circles onto the other’s skin, their eyes not once breaking contact. Sadly, a flicker of gloominess passes over Eris’ face a moment later, and although he tries to play it down, hide it, Azriel has noticed it. 

“Tell me,” he whispers and Eris understands without having to ask what Azriel means. 

“Despite this here feeling so damn good right now, it is so hard,” Eris mumbles, “to accept what I want…what I want from you.” His throat feels too dry.

Azriel lifts a scarred hand, resting his warm palm against Eris‘ equally warm face. “If you don’t want a bond, if all you want from this relation—from me is something physical, if all you want is sex, then I‘m alright with that.” His gaze is downcast to where his limbs are entangled with Eris‘, the prince’s hand resting on his thigh. 

“Azriel,” Eris whispers, and pauses until Azriel’s gaze flicks to his. “That is the problem.” A small smile tips up the corner of his lips. “I want physical intimacy, and I definitely blame the bond for why I want you so damn much, but I want more than that. You are my mate, and this is something rare. We are lucky to be two chosen ones who are granted a bond.”

His hand strokes up on Azriel’s thigh until he rests it on his waist. “I want this bond with you, despite what lies between us, despite our past. I want to see if we eventually fall in love, if love has a chance to blossom within our hearts. I want to wake up with you in my arms, kiss you before we fall asleep, hold your hand, make love to you all throughout the night, but—”

Azriel’s eyes line with tears, his breath catching. “But?” He swallows around the lump that has formed in his throat, probably the size of a peach.

“But I want to give us time. I can’t—we can’t accept the bond immediately. We need time to talk, to figure things out, to fall in love slowly, but I want to give it a try, if it is what you want.”

His lips coast over Azriel’s forehead, leaving a slightly damp trail behind. 

“I want this,” the spymaster whispers and his shadows visibly relax and then start to swirl, almost like they are dancing over Azriel and then also Eris.

A few more soft kisses and sensual touches are exchanged until Azriel has to return to Velaris. He has a lot to share with his family, and there is not enough time to do so, anyway.

“Before you leave, there is something I need to ask of you, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger fixes Truth-Teller, his eyes lingering on his hunting knife for a moment longer until he looks up. “Everything.”

There is gratitude on Eris’ face, but also fear. “My mother needs to be taken away from the Autumn Court. She isn’t able to leave alone, she is strong and powerful, but–”

“I’ll get her out! I will make sure she gets to Night safely.”

“Thank you.” Eris bows his head, his hand placed over his heart.

“Don’t thank me. Not for something like this. It’s the least I can do to help you.” Azriel closes the distance between them, cradling Eris face in his hands, kissing his forehead. “After all, she will one day be my mother-in-law.”

Both males have to smile, the bond becoming more and move alive between their souls.

“You are truly not half as bad as you make everyone believe, Eris.” Azriel rests his forehead against his mate’s who fists his Illyrian leathers, holding on tightly. Then he huffs loudly. “I remember when Morrigan told me the same.”

Azriel’s brows lift, but before he can ask what Eris means, the Autumn Court male decides to share the whole story, the whole truth about him and Morrigan, with Azriel, putting all the cards on the table. It has been so long, it is finally time to share it with someone.

Azriel is surprised to say the least when Eris is done and also a bit disappointed that it is Eris whom he finds out everything from and not from Mor. (Eris didn’t share the details about Mor’s sexuality, he has no idea if she has already shared this part of her and knows it is not his place to out her.)

There is so much more to talk about, so many stories to share, but time isn’t on their side.

“Leave now, or your High Lord will start asking questions,” Eris urges.

“I have to tell them, anyway.” Azriel caresses Eris’ cheek. “I want to tell them. Maybe not everything immediately, but I need to tell them eventually.” Eris nods in understanding. “Don’t pressure yourself.”

Holding each other tight and close, they stay like this for a few minutes longer until it is really time for Azriel to leave. He can’t waste anymore time. The inner circle needs to be let in on everything Eris has told Azriel about ending Beron’s life and reign. And the rescue of the Lady of the Autumn Court and her shelter in the Night Court. Rhysand has to know so he can start preparing everything – for the turmoil that may erupt within Prythian and Imala’s stay in their court. 

As they step outside, the dogs are still alert, keeping watch just like in the hours before. Azriel had already told Eris about them, how they had helped him find Eris, how they sat down to keep watch. The prince feels incredibly thankful and proud when he sees his loyal dogs and can’t help but smile. 

Cerberus, the biggest dog, tilts his head and lets out a quiet bark, but he doesn't move from his spot. Eris nods back at him, "Thank you." 

Then he tentatively reaches for Azriel’s hand. “Thank you. For everything, Azriel.” He smiles at the shadowsinger, and it feels so right and so good. Azriel returns the expression, curling his fingers around Eris’ hand. “I’ll see you soon.”

Eris bows his head. “I’ll see you.”

Azriel moves away from him, walking down the two wooden steps until his feet touch the mossy forest ground. He sighs and stops, his hand sliding over Truth-Teller. 

Eris waits, wanting to watch how Azriel spreads his wings and takes off, or disappears into his swirling shadows. But neither happens. 

Slowly, Azriel turns back to Eris, locking his gaze with the Autumn Court heir. Almost like in slow motion, he unsheathes Truth-Teller, holding it in front of his body. “There’s one more thing, Eris.” 

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[chaifootsteps]

Rewrite of the Seeing Stars episode :

Instead of the Episode kicking off on Stolas' side of the story, have it start on Blitz and Loona's argument. Have Blitz wait a few hours before looking for her after she stormed off only to find out Loona had packed her stuff and left their home. Have him worry and look for clues before realising the Grimoire was also gone. He doesn't hesitate, he knows he'd be in big trouble and the whole situation would be more awkward after what went down at Asmodeus but he doesn't care, and calls Stolas to ask for his help. Stolas doesn't answer his phone right away which was strange but Blitz chalked it up to what went down a few days prior. Stolas picks up after a few rings

"Blitz, I don't know what you're calling me for but you have no idea how much this came at the right time. There's a dozen of things I want to tell you, I know I have to tell you, but right now I need your help. Octavia, my daughter... I think she ran away from our home. I need you and your team to cover more ground than I could in Hell to find her. I think she went to an event, something big happening today. I don't know where but it's at nighttime and... She's gonna stay out all alone that late. Who knows the number of people who'd try harming her for being my daughter... Loo Loo Land was a close call on more than one time and she doesn't have half of my magic powers-..."

Blitz relates to Stolas' predicament and reassures him that he'll send M & M's to check on the biggest teen hot spots in Hell for him. They got a big contact list from all the places Loona often started brawls at... He then drops a bomb on Stolas about the Grimoire and how he thinks Loonie used it to head to Earth and how he needs to find his daughter before anything bad happens to her too. Stolas agrees to help Blitz because, the sooner his hellhound daughter is found, the more people could help find his daughter. Loona's sense of smell could help retrace Via's steps ! (He'll bring a few of her belongings with them on their trip to Earth so she'll start right away once they find her!)

They make their trip to Earth and land in Los Angeles where they get mistaken for some human super stars. Blitz is about to explain that this is a big misunderstanding to these folks when Stolas gets a genius idea : If they perform together well enough, they could use the TV broadcast to send a message to Loona, convince her to return back home and get her to meet somewhere so they'll all be able to go back to Hell. Blitz has left his acting career way behind him but for the sake of Loona, he'd have another go at it, no questions asked. It was a bit hard at the start but he found his footing again and gives some pieces of advice to Stolas while at it. They perform well enough but Stolas suddenly gets very distracted during break time and nearly blows their cover... It's because during break time an announcement was made for tonight's big event : Meteor shower. While he rummaged through the few things he brought with him from Via's room, he took out the calendar and finally understood that the date circled was tied to an event not in Hell but on Earth. (Cue to the Stolas and Via flashback from the start of the canon episode here)

Their daughters were actually together on Earth.

So how did things go on Octavia and Loona's side of the plot this whole time in this rewrite ? Octavia couldn't really go around Hell as a Goatia so she was disguising herself as a normal hellborn all the way to I M P to get the Grimoire from there and was basically using that fake identity when she crossed paths with Loona. She knew how to use the Grimoire better than her and decided to make a deal with her : They go to Earth together and in exchange, she'll show her a cool place there... Loona isn't convinced. Octavia pulls out a wad of cash from her shadow hammer space and says the expenses will be all on her. Loona is convinced.

They genuinely have a good time together in their girls' day out, discovering Los Angeles, going on restaurants but eventually Blitz and Stolas' broadcast reaches them and while Loona's surprised, Octavia runs off to the Observatory before Loona notices her being gone... Loona finds her and Via starts off by apologising for lying to her this whole time. She then explains her situation with her family and why she ran away. Loona does the same. Octavia adds that she left before Stolas could finish his apology because she learnt his routine. He pretends to care about her, messes up big time or doesn't notice her discomfort, goes after her when she runs away and apologises... Only to do this all over again. At this point she knows he just apologises to feel better about himself without realizing what he needs to apologize for or knowing what wrong he did to her. "It's the same thing here : He really doesn't know what he did wrong. He just apologised for show... Heh. Literally on live TV." ... But Loona tells her it's not the case this time. She knew she'd find her at the Observatory because Stolas said he'd join her there himself. "High ground, no trees, little to no city lights, ... All for the most perfect view."

Blitz and Stolas reach the Observatory on time and while Stolas and Octavia are enjoying the meteor shower on the dome in silence, Blitz and Loona have a chat. Blitz tries to apologize but Loona quickly changes the subject to his performance in the sitcom they used for the broadcast. She is... Complimenting him. He is flustered and deeply touched to hear these words and especially from his daughter. She then reveals something to him : She always wanted to be an actress. Sure it's not a job for hellhounds but it has always been something she wanted to do herself.

This is Loona's way of opening up to Blitz after their fight earlier and her rather standoffish, closed off attitude and why she hates working a desk job (even if IMP is Blitz's dream business come true), really seeming to enjoy herself the most when she is pretending to be someone else, like for the contract kills at Verosika's concert.

The episode ends with Via and Stolas fulling their promise for a dream they share together and on Blitz and Loonie's side, they are making their own promises for the future and are each building their own dreams. The meteor shower seals the new promises and the wishes that go with it

Thank you for the beautiful rewrite. Helluva Boss if it had character bonding and empathy in it.

[waterfallofspace]

Who are your favorite artists/writers in the community?

I see this one has been going around!! I actually got two, so forgive me for answering only just the one, but thank you both for sending this in!! Absolutely gonna emphasis *favourite*, not best, so I'm CERTAIN I'm gonna miss people that I just haven't seen

Okay so this is gon be a long list, and tagging people is scary so I really apologize if any of you didn't wanna be tagged <3 and I'm certain to miss a few, so if I don't mention you, please know that you're still amazing and it doesn't mean I don't melt to bits at your content!!!~ <3

(also gonna include a few wav makers bc that's honestly an art too!!! and i feel they deserve to be praised for that!!~)

(and gonna copy snzdreams here <3) People I know/Friends:

--- @onetrickponi is an absolute TREASURE, not only so kind and fun, but also genuine triple threat, despite what her name suggests~ --- @zensations35 one of the BIG names on here, at least to me~ someone I've adored for years, such a kind person too!! Not super close, but adore her!~ --- @snzdreams Absolute dear, and SUCH a fun person, and honestly honestly honestly the best g/ojo writer ive ever had the pleasure of reading, girl i stg that closet fic will live with me forever --- @bestwhumpist SOOOOO good!!! and so sweet, i have the honour of calling you a friend and also the honour of enjoying your WORK bc mmm girl yes --- @ithadtobesneezing also one of the sweetest people, so many people on here are so sweet and it makes me insane, and SUCH a good writer, like hello??? hi???? made me fall in love with y/uta i swear --- @6pmsoup AMAZING art like AMAAZZZINNGGG art, looks so good i'd swear it was straight from a manga --- @hachiibun some of my favourite art on this entire site, hachii is not only INSANELY impressive, also so nice!!! genuinely amazing~ --- @goodlucksnez makes some REALLY good wavs, and Vic is also such a kind and fun person!~ --- @ezynse REALLY good fics, personally seen a few a/ce a/ttorney ones making the rounds, but also just a funny and sweet person~ --- @lycheeehehe made this one w/olfwood drawing that made me feel things AND AND AND then also made a list of hcs for t/oji and ik hcs arent what you asked but literally made me insane over this man --- @devilscastle69 THE h/otwings writer on A/03, absolutely go check them out if you like h/otwings, some AMAZING stuff on there!! (also just such a cool person hi <3) --- @themiseryandcompany older fics but SOOO worth it, tasty lil morsels, and also one of my first friends on here!!! so adore her forever <3 --- @snzluv3r hi so honestly this one is so hguahguh for me to admit but some of the hottest wavs on here, and more than that!! literally a sweetheart, SUCH a sweet person!~ <33

People I don't know, but really appreciate:

--- @whiskey-tango-matcha such good stories about their lil guy ocs, they're SO alive and I honestly feel like they're characters from a published media with how much I know them and feel certain of them!! --- @autumnsneezes some of the best wavs (and snzs) that i've heard, absolutely amazing!!~ --- @gemsden some REALLY good content over here, mostly just posts with vague ideas, but some writing too!~ and just sooo good!~ --- @kotyonoksnz literally SUCH amazing art, released a few comics of it, and SPOILED snzblr with a beautiful h/azbin partial one, absolutely incredible art!!

omg this has been SO long im so sorry!! and im so sorry if i missed someone/you, i PROMISE it doesn't mean I don't love your stuff, just means i forgot T-T but I hope the length (and tags) are alright, and thank you for asking non!!~

[141lover-xoxo]

STRANDED

TW: Grammar mistakes, NFSW

paring : Gaz x reader

summary : Gaz was on his way back from work when his car suddenly breaks down, and calls you for help..

┏ • UU • - • - • - • - • - • - • ღ❦ღ┓

This week has been very.. calming. It’s a little concerning. Despite the car not turning on suddenly throughout the week, it’s been nice. You were ready to prepare dinner when your refrigerator was completely empty, Great.. You had just gotten home from work and was in no mood to go to the store, so why not get takeout?

You plopped yourself on the couch as you put on your show you've been missing, and you picked up your phone until Gaz had texted you..

you sigh as you get up from the couch, grabbing the tools from the garage, and making you way yo Gaz

…..

You pull up behind his car, getting out with the tools,

“What happened?” you questioned, kissing his lips, walking with him to the broken down car

“I was driving back from work as usual and toward a few miles from here the car started shaking and so I pulled over and right as I did, smoke was steaming out of the hood..” he said, his hand behind his neck, a little embarrassed

“I knew this car was old” she said, leaning over to check it

You quickly checked what as wrong and started working on it, as you were asking questions, he was too busy admiring your ass in your Nike shorts,

“When did you get those shorts?” he said, basically drooling

“Not too long ago? Why?” she questioned,

“Its nothing..” he mumbled,

You soon figured out why he wasn't answering you questions, so decided to tease him and bend extra forward, slightly waving your butt as he stared like a hungry dog.

By the time you were done, his boner had grown and was quite obvious, but he tried to act cool, trying his best to hide it.

“Well, that should do the trick,” you said, wiping the oil and grease off your hands

“So I'll see you at home?” you decide to tease him by seeming like to rush home

“Wait.. There's one more thing you gotta fix..” he mumbled, moving your hand towards his aching bulge

“Isnt that something that can wait till we get home?” you asked, “accidently” rubbing your hand on his bulge

“No baby it can't..” he whined, pulling you closer,

“Plus we should make sure the car is working..” he said, and despite your protests, he pushed you in the backseat, roughly placing his lips on yours, kissing you like you were the only source to keep him alive,

“And you think you could get away wearing those tight ass shorts?” he growled, and you respond with a moan, knowing damn well you wore those on purpose

“Gaz.. Please.” you said, getting impatient as it was his turn to tease,

“Oh no, you won't get it that easily y/n..” he said, going at an aching slow pace

“Please just fuck me..” you gasped, as his fingers rubbed against you clothes cunt

He quickly took you shorts off, you aching core ready to be filled by his big cock, he took off your panties as he stumbled to take his belt off and pants, before putting your hand on his

“Relax baby, im not going anywhere” you giggled, helping him with his belt,

“ How can I when your driving me crazy love..” he grunted, finally letting his aching cock free, using your wetness as lube,

“Fuck baby.. Your so wet..” he groaned, holding on into you hips

….

“You wanted me to fuck you in the truck hm? You wanted me to take your from back here?” he grunted pounding into your cunt,

“Yes! Yes yes please!” you moaned, gripping to his arms for support.

“You gonna came f’me princess? You gonna be a good girl?” he said, as you legs were shaking and you were squealing and gasping.

“yes yes.. I love you so much..” you babbled, as you were so close

“Im gonna.. Fuck! Im gonna come!” you said, as a finaly loud moan escaped your mouth as you came down from your high, Gaz following not to long after.

“Fuck.. Baby that was amazing..” he gasped for breath, plopping himself on you as you wrapped your arms around his neck,

“So does the car work fine?” you said, yuor fingers running through his hair

“Defently..” he mumbled

PROOFREAD, SORRY FOR GRAMMAR MISTAKES😭

guys first time writing smut kind nervous🥺

Anyways I hope enjoys and PLEASE LEAVE REQ🙏🙏

(*ˊᗜˋ*)ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ

[crazylittlejester]

I started typing and it got out of control...

I don't know if you've watched Ever After High or not, but I've been re-watching the entire show on account of not having much to do and I've come to the conclusion that an LU crossover with EAH would be absolutely awesome. The general idea is that characters from fairytales grow up and have kids that re-enact their parents' stories and this happens over and over again to the point that their entire society is built around this. Since they have a magic book that kind of seals your fate if you sign it, this is where the conflict of the show comes from.

Obviously there are a few different ways a person could go about setting this up but I'm just going to pick out fairy tale parents and backstories for them because I think that's the most fun.

Warriors: I'm thinking that he'd be best as Helen of Troy. Greek mythology is canon in EAH because of Cupid, so it works. The same themes of lust and infatuation are present. Also war.

Wild: He fits Sleeping Beauty's story the most, but that's already taken so the next best thing is Rip Van Winkle. It's only 20 years compared to 100, but I think it's the closest I'm getting for now, and the point is that he wakes up as an old man.

Sky: I think he should be the guy from the jabberwocky poem that uses the vorpal sword to defeat it. The jabberwocky is supposed to be the most powerful monster in EAH last I checked, so it would be the closest equivalent to Demise other than the Evil Queen.

Legend: Given that wizards are supposed to live a long time, Merlin would be a good fit for Legend because he'd have a few centuries to finish growing up into a mature wizard. He could still be a veteran of adventures this way without sacrificing his magical abilities.

Twilight: Unfortunately there aren't really any stories about wolves that aren't villains so he's tragically stuck being a non-descript farmer. I'm so sorry. Under other circumstances he'd get to be one the guy from "East of the Sun and West of the Moon" except that guy is a bear and not a wolf.

Wind: I'm torn between picking an infamous pirate or a story from mythology. Either one would probably work, to be honest, but it would probably work better if Tetra was a pirate's daughter and he's related to a deity in charge of ocean storms.

Hyrule: Ended up picking Jack the Giant Killer for him because that story's about surviving because you're clever, and Hyrule's games are supposed to be ridiculously hard. Also there's a magic sword involved.

Four: With the Minish he could totally fit into the story about the little elves that help the tailor/cobbler. But there's a story called "The Four Skillful Brothers" and I can't say no because it literally ends with them rescuing the princess via teamwork and splitting the reward.

Time: I feel like he'd fit in best as some kind of forest spirit or changeling, but as the Hero's Shade he could also be Godfather Death. I've been thinking about it and I really can't come up with a good placement for him.

Spirit Tracks Link gets an honorary mention because he is canon in my heart. Since New Hyrule is in the middle of the industrial revolution he's probably more of an urban legend. Either the ghost of a train conductor's kid or a guy cursed to see ghosts like his Zelda.

I know nothing about ever after high but im obsessed with what you’ve just said to me oh my god

first of all anytime someone draws the connection between Wars and Helen of Troy I loose my mind a bit, one day when I have the proper brain capacity and time I’m going to write a whole ass analysis paper on the comparison between the two of them because its so important to me

ALSO JABBERWOCKY MENTION??? I’M OBSESSED. AND JACK THE GIANT KILLER FOR HYRULE?? dude I can see you spent sooo much time thinking about this and oh my god I am so obsessed this is really cool, you ate

[seraphicalsuccubus]

dear fucking god I almost killed myself trying to relax with a bowl (or several) after almost killing myself for real tonight holy shit

I just simply wanted to relax after having practically a 5 hour long anxiety/panic attack/suicidal episode and I only have some old indica flower so I ground up a bit of what I have and put it in my bong with a little kief since it’s all I have to smoke because I smoked 10 fucking grams of concentrates in less than 4 weeks so I’m not very happy about that 🙃🙃🙃🙃

so I smoke like half the bowl and stand up to go grab a drink and in the process, I knock over a paper bag I had sitting next to my bed for some reason ?????? I think it was meant as a cat toy but I randomly stood it upright in front of my night stand one day for whatever reason ????? I don’t fucking know don’t ask me I just work here ????

nearly immediately get like blindingly pissed off from that simple thing and just flooded with rage to the point where I manic clean half my room

stop to check my progress for a second after around 15 minutes, and get almost instantly hit with a wave of pain and exhaustion because I’ve been forgetting to take my dosage of pain and adhd meds for like the last month so the adrenaline of being angry ran out and the inflammation took over 🙃🙃🙃

sit down to finally relax, and barely fucking blink before I find something else to clean and get irritated enough to stand up and clean more of the fucking room

suddenly stop, almost 15 minutes later, holding a half full garbage bag, slowly coming to the horrifying realization that WASN’T a jar of indica.

it WAS, however, a jar of the 6 different hybrid and sativa 1/8ths I bought a couple months ago in March, all fucking mixed together because I had the genius idea to like condense everything and fucking cram the like 6 jars that were slightly full into the one giant jar from a previous trip (that I got an indica from, hence the confusion) until that was overflowing

so I basically just smoked a Frankenstein bowl of what fucking snorting my 60mg dose of fucking adderall would feel like in weed form and made myself fucking manic because now I want to do fucking everything humanly and inhumanly possible and rearrange my room entirely and go for a random night walk in the cool air (but no fucking way in this neighborhood, I’ll end up killed. or worse). or just literally pack a bag, throw my cats in their crate, fucking run away, and start over somewhere where no one knows who the fuck I am, delete all my social media, and never return home or have an online presence ever again, and yeah

my guys it’s been a fucking NIGHT and it’s not even midnight my fucking christ