#I was mulling over this and just knew I had to include the second one

[forgetful-nots]

Top 3 rc moments? :D - grahamcarmen

There are gonna be so many honorable mentions, but here are the top 3

1) When Carmen leaves him for his own safety:- Knowing just how much she wants to be with him, asking him to join her on the train, and willing to go on the date and take the second chance but ultimately choosing to leave him be as he has a new chance at life and she doesn't want to take that away from him, it's just so

2) Carmen choosing gray's safety over shutting down bellums device:- I feel like this one is just so underrated, remembering how much importance Carmen puts on stopping VILE that it's the only time we've seen her yell, and the device was RIGHT THERE, in just a moment she could have gotten rid of that device but she choose to prioritise gray.

3) Gray willing to go to jail if it meant Carmen would be back to herself:- can't forget this one, dude really was going to do away with all his life ambition for her and spend probably the rest of it in a cellar, which in his pov would probably also have meant never seeing her again, all for her.

Honorable mentions

Carmen fighting the cleaners over him.

Inviting him to join her.

Gray's "I never wanna hurt you again" moment.

Him knowing exactly what to do when she said wait for her signal.

[astupidweeb69]

The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)

NSFW One-shot

Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.

Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!

___________________________________________________________

Your brother hated his new roommate.

From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.

You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.

It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay. 

Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.

After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.

You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?

He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.

On one condition.

Stay away from Toby.

You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.

But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.

So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport. 

He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.

Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival. 

“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”

It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.

You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.

“You two fighting or something?” 

Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”

“Weird how?” 

He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”

“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.

Another pause. This one is longer than before.

“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”

______________________________________________________________

The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.

The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.

After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it. 

The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.

It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment.  “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”

“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.

Time for bed I guess. 

You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.

You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.

The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.

You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.

So you did.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected. 

However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.

Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.

Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking. 

You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.

But he didn’t.

The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.

The fuck?

You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?

You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.

He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face. 

If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.

A hand reached out. 

Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused. 

He was touching you. 

He was touching your face.

Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.

“M-must be the ssss-sister…”

That was the first clear sentence you could understand.

He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing. 

His whispering.

“Soft”

Then he left.

Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.

______________________________________________________________

“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.

It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of,  had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake. 

You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.

From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms. 

You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room. 

You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.

For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man. 

So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself. 

He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.

Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention. 

“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”

“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.” 

You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”

He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”

You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.

“Okay. What time does it-”

A door opened. You stopped talking.

Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound. 

Toby was up.

The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.

He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.

Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.

He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.

“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.

Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.

“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”

“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.

Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.

“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”

Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.

“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?” 

You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone. 

“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”

“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”

Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.

You pretended to be unbothered. 

It didn’t work.

He noticed.

And he liked the way you squirmed.

______________________________________________________________

Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.

You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.

Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.

Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house. 

Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.

God you were going to need a drink to get through this.

Maybe even a couple.

Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.

One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.

You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.

More social.

Less inhibited. 

Numb.

After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room. 

You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand.  You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music. 

And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.

It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.

You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?

Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.

Toby.

He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly. 

Oh god you felt your heart flutter.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.

He creeped you out.

He didn’t shower. 

He smelled like death. 

You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.

And you were already walking over there.

You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.

It was working. 

He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance. 

But you didn’t know that.

You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.

“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”

He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.

“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.

You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”

Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?” 

It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.

“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”

Why did you say that?

Why?

It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.

You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.

“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why. 

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs. 

Fuck. 

One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.

Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?

He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.

He was strong. 

You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary. 

So why did he turn you on? 

He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.

You barely registered him locking the door behind him.

With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.

You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.

“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick. 

“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.

“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.

He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before. 

“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”

You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”

You paused. Was he talking about you? 

“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.

You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue? 

Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.

“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....” 

You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew. 

He fucking knew the whole time. 

He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other. 

Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner. 

Your bra was next. 

In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea. 

He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention. 

He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.

Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care. 

He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.

A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog. 

After a while, he finally lifted his head up. 

Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt. 

His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately. 

You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”

His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him. 

Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.

He made up for it with enthusiasm.

Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.

“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold. 

“...Fuck you bloody.”

Shit this guy was scary.

In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.

You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.

That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought. 

He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.

You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.

“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.

He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.

Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat. 

It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you. 

It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.

“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”

Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.

You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.

Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.

You screamed.

You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.

You screamed bloody fucking murder.

“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”

Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.

It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.

You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.

The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how. 

Something started to build. 

More and more.

Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.

You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax. 

His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head. 

He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.

His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.

Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.

And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.

“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”

[zevrra]

[—𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ]

synop: you and vik have a little too much to drink and decide it’s a perfect night to appreciate jayce and everything he does.

wc: 1.8k

includes: gn!reader, smüt, mdni, 21(+), established relationship, jayvik x reader, oräl (m receiving), jayce is pathetic, 3some, reader & vik top jayce, jayce is just really obedient tbh, lil bit of edging, mentions of drinking/being drunk

extra(s): part 2 is here!

oh you should not have had that last drink. or the last two.

jayce had invited you and viktor to one of the council parties he regularly attended alone but this time he had begged for you both to join him. which ended up with just you and viktor standing off in the corner, away from the crowds, chugging their frilly and expensive alcohol, while jayce mingled about; doing his regular golden boy activities. and when he finally made it back to the two of you after his schmoozing, you and viktor were both giggling, drunk messes.

jayce knew better about how things would end with both of you drunk. so he had said his goodbyes before dragging the two of you out of the venue the second upon finding you, heading in the direction of home. but when you had made one too many stops, demanding to touch every animal you came across; while viktor argued with no one, refusing to budge, about some scientific thing you couldn’t distinguish, jayce had had enough and unceremoniously picked you both up and actually carried your asses all the way home, over his shoulder.

when jayce finally got you both home, he takes you both straight to the bedroom. he sits you down on the bed and tells you not to move; he was going to get you both some much needed water.

“ugh, jayce is just so…” you mutter, watching the large man leave the bedroom and disappear down the hall.

“charming? perfect?” viktor chimes in as he sits on the edge of the bed where he had been put down by jayce, hand brushing through his brown hair.

you chuckle alongside vik, nodding your head in agreement. “mhm, all of the above but he should relaaaax tonight.” you respond falling back onto the large bed with a poof. the sheets were comforting and cool, if it had been any other night you might’ve just fallen asleep right then and there but you refused to do so; not tonight.

you gasp with the idea tumbling through the fog in your drunken brain, sitting up quickly next to vik. “i know what we should do!” you exclaim before leaning over to whisper your plan in vik’s ear.

when jayce returns to the bedroom he’s holding two glasses of water as promised, standing right in front of you and viktor before handing a cup to you and the other to viktor. you share a look with vik, the two of you trying to stifle a few knowing giggles while bringing the cup to your lips. you take a few much needed sips of water before by “accident” the cup wobbles, spilling water down the front of your outfit.

“oh noooo…” you sigh as jayce gently takes the cup away from your grasp in fear of you spilling anything else, setting it down on a nearby table. “guess you’ll just have to take it off for me.” you hum, lifting your arms up into the air.

jayce rolls his eyes, as if he didn’t know what you were trying to do, but does as you tell him too anyway. his fingers gently grab your top and he lifts it with ease over your head. “okay, okay. you two need to rest now.”

“jayce…you’re always so kind and always take good care of us.” you hum as your fingers trail along the hem of jayce’s pants, digging gently into the fabric and giving it a stiff tug.

“so let us return that favor.” viktor adds with his own devious smile.

jayce upon realizing the hint the two of you have dropped, blushes a brilliant bright red; even to the tips of his ears. he slides a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, or maybe it’s his excitement, as he mulls over the idea. “how do you two have so much energy…” he finally mumbles, glancing between the two of you with his pretty hazel eyes, having already made up his mind.

viktor follows your hand and together, somehow, you manage to unbuckle jayce’s pants. he shrugs them off to make it a little easier for the two of you to continue. you find yourself running a hand up his thigh, sliding it along his warm skin, before moving a hand to squeeze the front of his boxers. viktor kisses along your shoulder as his own hand follows along yours, pressing right up against the front of his pants, tangling with your own fingers. jayce sighs at the welcoming touch as he watches the scene unfold before him. and while a little voice in the back of his head tells him that maybe this isn’t the best idea for his drunk lovers; the growing need in his lower half wins him over in the end. as if there was any competition between the two in the first place.

it doesn’t take long before jayce is breathless and fully hard. his chest flushed red to match his face while you and vik fall into a nice, rhythmic pace of groping the front of his boxers until he’s practically begging for the two of you to; ‘quit teasing’.

the drunk duo share a laugh as your hand finds itself running up along the edge of jay’s lower abdomen, following along the muscle he bears like a sailor following a map. relishing in the way jayce sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers move down his happy trail before hooking around the edge of his underwear. and with vik’s help, you manage to strip jayce of his boxers; finally.

and by god does the sight of jayce’s hard cock sober you up real fast. your mouth waters at the sight as your fingers slowly wrap around his shaft and you give him a slow tug. you hum sweetly at the low groan jayce makes, licking your lips at the sight of his flushed face. you lean forward to press a kiss into his tip, trailing your lips down along his shaft while giving him another stroke.

“you’re too damn tall…” vik grumbles, annoyed with the fact that if he wanted to help he might end up on his knees; and there was no way he was going to do that.

you couldn’t blame him, you didn’t want to get on your knees either.

“i agree. go lay down, pretty boy.” you instruct as you retrieve your hand to gesture somewhere behind you.

jayce rolls his eyes at the silly demand but he’s going to do it anyway. he, almost shyly, shuffles to the top of the bed; where he lays down, settling back against the countless of pillows. you and viktor crawl your way up to his side, descending upon him like wild, starving animals. where viktor takes his right while you take his left, hands grasping at his thighs, parting his legs to fit you both. one of vik’s hands wraps around the base of jayce’s cock before his thin fingers move up onto his tip. while vik begins to jerk jayce off, you kiss along jayce’s thighs and stomach. planting kisses all over his lower half that you could reach, teasing him as vik’s hand moves swiftly along his shaft. jayce groans, biting his bottom lip as vik uses his fingers to draw out any precum he can from jayce’s head. he uses a mix of precum and spit to slick the entirety of his shaft.

you push whatever hair you can out of the way before your lips find the tip of his awaiting cock. you suck gently on his head, vik’s hand continues to work on stroking up where he can before meeting your lips; until he replaces his fingers with his own tongue. you tease the tip of jayce’s cock with your tongue, pressing it flat against the underside of his head, loving the way the big boy sucks in a sharp breath in the midst of his pleasure. you slip your mouth of his head as viktor’s lips meet yours. you kiss him drunkenly over jayce’s throbbing cock, his tongue slipping between your lips. your tongue clashes with vik’s for a sweet moment before you both untangle just to slip jayce’s cock between your locked lips.

now you both work effortlessly in pleasing jayce. tongues clashing against the tip, pressing hot kisses into his shaft, sharing jayce like a snack before you slip him back into the warmth of your mouth. jayce groans as he places a hand gently against your head as you return to sucking him off, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth and you do as he wants. slipping your lips further down onto his shaft, as far as you can, until your lips pop off of him once more; where viktor replaces your mouth with his own.

now you two take turns sucking jayce off until he’s a whining mess. “mmph fuck!” jayce cries as he throws his head back.

a high pitched groan slips past his lips with every breath he takes, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to concentrate on not coming. his toes curl and you can feel his thighs tense up everytime your lips wrap around him, pull off, and vik slips his mouth back onto his cock. never giving jayce truly a moment to rest. the next time vik pops off, you return to the meal, and take jayce all the way into your mouth. he fills your mouth entirely, hitting damn near the back of your throat and your jaw begins to burn with the stretch.

jayce sucks in a sharp breath as you take him deep into your throat, grabbing any hair he can and gripping it gently as the sweetest whines tumble from his lips. “feels‘so good baby.”

and for a moment, you think that maybe you could continue forever drawing every noise you possibly could out of jayce until the sudden need between your own thighs grows to be too much.

you slip your mouth off of his cock, licking your puffy lips. you sneak a hand between your thighs to press against your soaking wet core. “can’t take it anymore jay…” you groan.

viktor chuckles at your desperation, as if he’s in any better shape than you are with his stiff cock straining against his pants. “i can’t take much more either.” viktor finally admits after you gave him a sarcastic look with a lifted eyebrow.

jayce, who is still flushed red, panting, hanging on the edge of his orgasm, and slightly dazed; curls up one of his fingers and motions for you to come to him. “c’mere baby.” he mutters with a fluttering gaze. forgetting his own orgasm as he wants nothing more than to please both you and viktor. as if it was his life’s purpose to make you both feel incredible.

[seelie-buddy]

enchanted

summary : 'all I know is I was enchanted to meet you...' contains : zhongli x reader ; mutual pining ; fluff ; gn!reader, this drabble is written in second person word count : 725 ꔛ artwork – @ ameriya7

Zhongli who notices how your ears perk up at his words.

The manner in which you keep a keener ear for what he has to say, intrigued and ever curious of what his comments and interjections include. The manner in which you seem to always have the patience for his long tales, his tidbits on history possessed only by the oldest scrolls and records.

Your attentive eyes, your little nods as you follow along his words, you hold onto his every word— mulling them over, absorbing them in a manner a gardener would preen their flower beds: with a gentle patience, with attentice and warm eyes.

Zhongli who notices your reluctance to take spotlight as he easily does.

The manner in which you don't often share your own thoughts, especially amongst a crowd. The parting of your lips, subtle actions showing your disagreement with the discussion; the slight crease of your forehead, the furrow or twitch of your eyebrows— you listened more than you spoke, saw more than you communicated.

Zhongli who notices your faint reactions towards him.

The manner in which the corner of your lips as twitch, raising into the slightest of smiles— a gesture of agreement— and of surprise at how it seemed that he knew what thoughts you had in your head without you needing to voice it out.

Zhongli who notices how your eyes turn his way more times than necessary.

The manner in which, each time, they would return elsewhere just before he could catch you in the act; the manner in which you seemed to hover close enough to pay attention to the discussions others would include him in, yet never close enough to speak with him directly.

Zhongli who begins asking for your opinions during group discussions.

The manner in which he would pay attention to what ideas you seemed to have— each one holding a depth, although the quietness of your voice making it easy for others to not hear you speak.

Zhongli who would notices the contrast between you and himself.

The manner in which his willingness to part his thoughts and knowledge to others with ease; you who allowed your thoughts to remain shrouded in clouds of mystery.

The manner in which you held back your words, kept yourself in a bubble of your own world, filled with your own ideas and dreams, your words only loud enough for a sharp ear as his to catch. Hushed contributions, quiet musings; enchanting.

Zhongli who knew what your slight smiles, attentive eyes meant.

The manner in which your head turned away swiftly the second his eyes almost makes contact with yours; the manner in which you would never take the initiative to reveal the truth of your heart unprompted, least of all to him.

Zhongli who knew why his own eyes would follow your reactions.

The manner in which he paid mind to your quiet contemplation in regards to the discussions you never directly partook in; the manner in which his own attention was quickly grabbed at the hushed tone of your words in the few instances you put yourself forward. The manner in which he knew what was the truth of his own heart.

Zhongli who would turn group discussions into private exchange of thoughts.

The manner in which he would invite you for a cup of tea to hear the wondrous thoughts hidden behind your silence, noticing you appear more at ease outside of a crowd.

The manner in which conversations grow into shared tea breaks during the day, into quiet musings on a long trek around the peaks and valleys of Liyue, and into prolonged walks along the ports at night.

Zhongli who narrates any tale you show interest in.

The manner in which he shares tales lost to time with the backdrop of the sparkling surface of waves that wash the shore. The manner in which he would fall hush at noticing your head drooping in the warm evening sunshine.

The manner in which he would let your head rest against his shoulder, a tender hand brushing back the loose strands of hair that fell forward onto your face. The manner in which he would know, and not hold back from acknowledging, that every hour spent with you was flawless, that your smile had him wonderstruck, that he was enchanted by you.

a/n : this drabble was inspired by taylor swift's song named enchanted!! it's been a while since I've written something, and this is also my first writing of the year (although, yes, it took a while; I had my exams for the end of the semester). hope you enjoyed reading it, and if so, do go through my other drabbles if you're interested !!

[astrophileous]

A little fluffy piece of reader who normally takes her coffee black vs Spencer having a ton of sugar in his? The two of them getting their drinks mixed up and almost spitting it out at the pure amount/lack of sugar? 🤭

OMG I was actually planning to include a similar scene in one of my upcoming oneshots, but you know whattt!!! I'll write them again here anyway bcs it's such a cute concept 🥰

Warning(s): gn!reader but reader wears lipgloss, profanities, fixation over lips, bashful spencer bcs he's my babygirl <3

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What the fuck?"

Spencer strode over just in time to see you spitting something out into the kitchenette sink. There was no concealing the disgust on your face as you eyed the cup in your grasp suspiciously.

"Hey." Spencer's voice tore through the air in a shaky ball of nerves. It sounded meek amidst the buzzing busyness of the BAU bullpen, yet still, you snapped your head up as soon as the single syllable left his mouth.

Your eyes instantly melted when they flickered towards his face.

"I think our drinks got switched," Spencer added, a little louder this time.

Your gaze played a tennis match between the identical cups in both your hand and Spencer's. The grimace you rewarded him in the next second was possibly the cutest thing Spencer had seen in the past few months.

"This is yours? That explains so much. Ever heard of diabetes, Dr. Reid?" you joked as the two of you returned each cup to its rightful owner. "What the hell is in that, anyway?"

"Um, coffee?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "I may know practically nothing compared to you, Doctor, but I know for a fact that was not coffee. Tell me, how many sugar canes had to be chopped down to satisfy your abominable preference of sweetness?"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Do you even know what real coffee tastes like?"

Before he could produce a reply, you suddenly thrust the cup of coffee in your hand right in front of Spencer's nose. The man staggered rearwards until his back met the wall with a thud.

"What are you doing?"

"Try it," you said sheepishly.

"What?"

"Try the goddamn coffee, Reid."

Spencer didn't actually need to try the goddamn coffee. After all, he knew your order like the back of his hand: iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, maybe one pump of syrup if you were feeling adventurous. He could already imagine how revolting the drink would taste.

But as you continued to peer at him behind your lashes, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips glossy from your favorite cherry lipgloss—the limited edition one that you had proudly boasted about in front of the entire team—Spencer could feel his IQ depleting in a rapid descension. He accepted the cup without a word and took a courageous sip.

"Well?" you questioned expectantly.

"Please don't force me to do anything like that, ever again."

Laughter exploded deep from within your chest when Spencer shoved the coffee back into your awaiting hand. He didn't have a lot of time to mull over the nauseating bitterness, however. Not when you proceeded to wrap your own lips around the lid—the same one he was just drinking from—and downed a generous sip.

Spencer averted his gaze away.

"Hey." JJ peeked into the pantry area, unaware of the rush of blood and inner turmoil that Spender was battling. The blonde waved the file in her hand before gesturing at the conference room. "We've got a case. Hotch wants everyone in five."

You skittered away after JJ's announcement, leaving Spencer dumbfounded and pathetically bothered by the image of your enticing lips. He followed after your footsteps, leading himself towards the conference room where the rest of his team was gathering. He drank a large sip from his own coffee to calm his racing heart, unaware of the reddish stain in the shape of your lips marking the area around the lid of his cup.

For the rest of that day, Spencer could taste traces of cherry on the tip of his tongue.

[child0feden]

UNDERSTOOD WITH LOVE

pelle “ dead ” ohlin x reader

- general headcanons for how pelle acts when he has a crush on you!

i was just going to write a thought response to this ask but it kept getting longer and longer and so i turned it into full on headcanons, lol! hope you like this at least a little bit, anon <3

- requested by anon | view my metal masterlists here and here

reading music recommendations: almost nothing by silent poets - radiance by anathema

- it does not take all that long at all for pelle to develop a deep crush on you after meeting you for the first time! when you treat him with such kindness and do not scowl away in disgust at the mere sight and maybe even smell of him? it almost immediately draws him to you because your reaction and simple attitude towards him is just so unlike how many others have often treated him, from the second the two of you met and you held your hand out to offer a handshake to him with a warm smile on your face, you had somehow managed to gain an immediate spot in his closed off heart, you intrigued him from that very moment before he even knew your name and when he had taken your hand into a firm yet cautious shake and heard you tell him what your name was and how you knew his band mates all whilst holding friendly eye contact with him? your skin was so delicate and your eyes resembled beautiful little mini universes to him and that name of yours was almost immediately stuck so deep inside of his head as he silently repeated it back to himself whilst mulling over what the history behind your name could be, what the meaning behind it could be, he wanted to know more about you right from the very start, even if he did not say so aloud

✩ when pelle has a crush on you? it is more than obvious to just about everyone in his life, and that even includes you at certain times when he does quite specific little things that make it downright impossible for you to not see how he feels for you, which is why you often return some more flirtatious actions towards him and after being friends for a while? pelle will come to confess his crush on you through a well thought out written letter that he thinks he must have re-written about five different times as he tried so hard to get out every single word he could about just how special you were and how you made him feel inside but this work is not about that whole confession, so let me talk a little bit more about how exactly pelle acted when you were just his mere crush, before the two of you began to officially date one another after he confessed to you through the aforementioned letter…

- pelle is a beyond unique person when it comes to his actions and his general feelings in life, when it comes to good feelings? a whole lot of those good feelings and those good emotions are quite unfamiliar and unknown to pelle, he has not felt a super large amount of good feelings and good emotions in his short life at all and so of course he never quite knows how to utilise them entirely or what to do about them… when it comes to the immense crush on you that he develops within such a short time of even knowing you due to just how much the two of you clicked in a way that he had never experienced with another person in his life before? this notion rings especially true because the feelings inside of him absolutely baffle pelle, never in his whole life has he had a real crush like this that makes him feel things so similar to what he always overheard people talk about when it came to crushes when he was in school, he has never felt these things towards someone before and he does not at all know how to go about them, which is why sometimes? pelle can kind of come off as just a little bit of a creep but not in any super weird or downright wrong ways, or at least you never find them too weird at all whenever you do notice them, which is almost all of the time due to just how much he tends to lose himself around you…

✩ pelle never means to come off as kind of a creep around you at certain times, of course not, the very last thing he wants is to make you never want to be around him due to his actions, the very last thing he wants is for you to see him in the same light that so many ignorant others do! but as i said before, it is just kind of how he is when it comes to his newfound crush on you and just how he feels about you as a person in general, the deep feelings towards you that are always blooming to be more and more uncontrollable inside of him are so beyond unfamiliar to pelle and he has never ever had a genuine crush like this before in his whole entire life, pelle does not at all know what he is supposed to with his feelings or what is the right way for him to go about how he feels inside whenever he is around you and he does not at all know what he should do with the special, all new kind of feelings that he has towards you because he has never felt them before and he has never had to deal with them before

- sometimes, he does things without really taking a moment to think about it beforehand and sometimes he just hopes that you will not even notice him doing something a little bit odd around you as his want or more so need for more information about you to store within his senses tends to take hold of and get the best of him almost all the time when he is in your presence, he just wants to know more and more about you, he wants to know what the soft material of your shirt is and he needs to know the scent of your shampoo as the leftover fragrance lingers in your beautiful hair, he wants to know what the kind of gum is that you always seem to chew on and blow small bubbles with when you think that no one is looking over at you and he needs to know the scent of your perfume or cologne as the subtle yet blissful scent wafts into his nose whenever you pass by him

✩ when you come over to the dimly lit little henhouse to watch the band rehearse as a simple close friend and maybe even help to record their practices? pelle always finds himself zoning in on you whenever you are not looking right back at him, he always finds himself just staring at you and watching you and observing you as your lips are curled upwards in a content smile and you give gentle nods of your head to the loud sounds of øystein strumming his guitar and jan beating his drums… pelle just loves to look at you so much, so much so that there has been more than a few times that he has completely missed his usual timed cue of starting his vocals and has been forcefully snapped out of his trance like state of watching you by øystein or jørn yelling over to him after slowing their instruments… pelle has every single feature and scent of you stored in his head, if you change your hair even a little bit? he notices, if you use a different lipgloss for once? he always notices, if you use a different shampoo? he will smell the difference…

- and if you ever attend their live concerts too? oh, it takes so much for pelle to focus on his vocals instead of just becoming locked on you as you stand in the small crowd of people and look right back at him as he stands up on the creaky, decorated stage! when the two of you lock eyes, no matter where you are, pelle feels like it is just the two of you in the world and he feels like he is looking into the eyes of love itself, just looking into your eyes as you gaze back at him makes the breath leave his throat and he can never hold eye contact with you for too long due to just how much his palms begin to sweat and how much his heart begins to speed up within his chest at almost concerning levels! he is always so glad that he wears corpse paint when on stage because if he did not? the deep red colour across his usually almost paper white, pale face would be more than just noticeable to absolutely anyone and everyone there in the room with him

✩ when you meet him and the rest of the band backstage and offer him some sweet words about how much you loved their performance and tell him just how well you think he did with his vocals? oh, your words mean so much more to him than you could ever think, your words feel so true to him and they always strike him right in his heart with incredible warmth and strength

“ thank you… i… i am glad that you are here… ” ( his latter statement is forced out of his throat in a quiet, almost whispered tone as he moves his eyes away from your own and looks just over your shoulder to avoid embarrassment as he says it, but he can never stop a small, almost unnoticeable smile from twitching upwards on his thin lips as well as a deep heat from coming across his paint covered face when he hears you tell him that you are glad to be here, with him )

- your words always mean something to pelle, they never feel like empty compliments, they never feel like they are said just to be said, pelle always thinks that your compliments are so real and true and your opinion is one of the few that he ever cares about, you are one of the few people he ever wants to hear from and listen to! both because he just loves the sound of your voice and because your opinion and your thoughts are so important to him in general

✩ or like the one time when you had slept over at the shared band house after the usual little get together full of alcoholic drinks and loud music had taken place there the night before, when you woken up quite late in the bright morning and bid all of the mostly hungover men a sweet goodbye and had left to go back to your own home? pelle had just been making his way towards the stairs to head back up to his private bedroom when he found your folded, portable hairbrush on the living room couch that you had slept on and figured that you must had left it behind on accident and before he can even think any further as he stares down at the small coloured plastic object, he picks it up into his pale hand and allows his gaze to lock onto some strands of your hair that are tangled between the soft plastic teeth

- his hot breath catches inside his throat as he brings one of his slim fingers to make contact with the few strands of your hair that are left attached to the small brush, his mind grows so muddled with a sense of raw curiosity and he lifts the plastic brush held in his hand further towards his face before stopping it just in front of his nose as he allows the lingering scent of you and your shampoo that remain attached to the brush fill his mind and almost overwhelm him with an immense heat that burrows deep inside of his chest though pelle is so quick to drop his hand that holds the brush down to his side with a limp wrist and wide blue eyes when he hears someone clear their throat behind him, pelle does not even turn to face them as he knows exactly who it is and he can feel the strongest warmth he has ever felt come across his face from pure embarrassment and clear shame as he hears your voice speak up in a gentle yet kind of confused tone “ pelle? i think i left my hairbrush, have you… have you seen it anywhere? it has to be in here… oh… ” somehow pelle does not hear even a hint of judgement or disgust radiate from you as you trail off after your eyes fall downwards and spot the item, none other than your hairbrush, held in his grasp…

✩ pelle has to fight with himself to get the words out of his tightened throat and past his dried up lips as he turns himself around to face you, his head now hanging so low as he holds unwavering eye contact with the grimy wood panelled floor beneath his feet in fear of seeing the expected disgust or intense judgment on your face and in your gorgeous eyes that have been the unknowing subjects of his art more than once “ i found it… on the couch… here, sorry ” the way he apologises makes your eyes soften with such genuine care and softness for him as you listen to the way his low voice somehow becomes almost quieter than a subtle little whisper as he forces his words out, you fail to even see the dire expression on his face due to the multiple strands of his long blonde hair hanging just in front like a pair of curtains and covering most of it from your view due to his slouched posture but when you give a quiet hum and come closer to reach out and take your plastic hairbrush from his outstretched hand as he holds it out towards you? the soft skin of your fingers brushing against his palm is what makes his head twitch upwards from the slight shock that fills his heart from the contact that makes a sudden bolt of electric rush through him and he just manages to give a visible nod in response when you thank him for finding your brush for you, pelle feels his eyebrows twitch in confusion when you do not even bring up what you had obviously seen him doing with your hairbrush as he so expected you to, he was expecting you to yell at him and call him disgusting and yet those expected yells of disgust and anger towards him for what he did never came from your lips though just before you turn and leave the small house once more for the final time that day, you do make sure to look right at pelle as you give a quiet, warm whisper of “ its okay and by the way… i think you have very nice hair too, pelle… ” that makes his sparkling blue eyes widen like saucers once again and his pink lips part to release a hot, shaky breath as he watches you turn and leave for good, not yet even realising that you had thrown your hairbrush back onto couch as you passed by it on your way out, leaving it behind just for him to keep when he finally breaks out of his trancelike state of both confusion and shock from your statement and moves his eyes away from the now empty doorway and spots it there atop the tattered cushions, a special kind of gift from you to him that he took to the privacy his bedroom and cherished in many different ways, some ways more unique than others

- just the air that surrounds you seems sweeter to breathe in to pelle! whenever he stands beside you when you have come to watch the band rehearse in the henhouse, pelle feels like the air that surrounds you is different to the air that surrounds himself and everyone else he has ever met in life

✩ the air around you feels so intoxicating to pelle, the air that surrounds you is so addictive to pelle and despite him trying so hard to keep it as on the low and as unnoticeable to you as he can, he always tries to stand the closest to you that he can whenever he gets the chance! wether it be standing right beside you or lingering in his place just behind you, pelle always wishes to be inside your little bubble of somehow sweetened air that fills his mind with a sense of bliss, he always wants to be close enough to you to smell that heavenly air that seems to radiate from you and flood his senses with warmth and euphoria

- pelle might be very awkward and kind of shy when it comes to giving you things as little gifts, both when you are his mere crush and even when the two of your are together for real, but there has been a few different times when pelle has gifted you a drawing that he did just for you! never one of the many portraits that he has done of you but he has drawn things that he has heard you talking about before like your favourite type of flower or even your favourite place, pelle always listens to you so much and soaks in every single piece of information about yourself that you ever care to give and so of course he puts it into his art for you

“ thought you would like this… i drew it for you, after you mentioned it… ” ( pelle has to resist the idea of just not even giving his art to you due to the fears of coming across as weird or creepy running through his mind but those fears are so quick to be stomped out when your eyes brighten and you take the art from his grasp with an appreciative smile before telling him how beautiful it is and how much you love it, the soft thank you that comes from your mouth almost makes his eyes roll back into his head from euphoria but he catches himself and just gives a gentle nod in response )

✩ he has handmade and gifted you at least one type of necklace with a little animal bone he had found in the woods attached to it too! of course he cleaned the bone and such, and whenever he sees the necklace around your neck and the bone he has found for you on your chest? oh, it makes his breath deepen and his pale face become red hot with all different kinds of strong feelings growing inside of his heart, his mind and his more… intimate areas, so to speak… seeing something that he made with his hands being worn by you with such pride just makes him feel all different kinds of very good things and he never gets over this at all…

- when pelle has a crush on you and even before he came to realise that he had a crush on you? he grows to be very possessive and protective of you all the time when you are near him, when you are in the same room as him? it does not even matter if you are right beside him or on the opposite side of the room from him, pelle grows to be so much more alert of the people around you rather than himself as he watches from a distance and attempts to use his long blonde hair to cover most of his face and fade into the background as he always does, though he often fails to realise that whilst everyone else might just let him fade into the background as he inches back towards the darkest corner of the room in an attempt to almost hide himself from view of people? you always see him, you have always seen him in spite of his efforts to appear invisible to people and you can never quite resist flashing him a soft smile when your eyes make sudden contact as he watches you from his little corner which in turn makes his eyes widen in obvious surprise at being spotted for once and his head duck downwards to hide the growing blush on his pale face away from your view

✩ and when it comes to his newfound yet almost overwhelming possessiveness over you? this tends to be much less noticeable to you, but still very much there! whenever you come around to the shared little band house to have some casual drinks or watch the boys rehearse together as a simple friend who always likes to support them from the sidelines and offer some simple help with stage supplies whenever they so need it? pelle always finds himself growing almost irrationally irritated as he watches you stand next to and talk with øystein or jan and sometimes even jørn too! pelle always finds himself pulling off loose threads from his tattered jeans as he watches the two of you engage in conversation, his repeated tugs on the frayed denim threads become even harsher whenever he hears you laugh at a stupid joke that was told to you by whoever it is that you are in a conversation with at the time though this is not because pelle dislikes the sound of your laugh, not at all! that sound of your laughter is so warm and addictive to his ears but it is more so that he just cannot stand the fact that it is not him who is making that beautiful sound arise from you but instead, it is one of his bandmates who is getting that sweet sounding laughter that is like pure golden honey to his ears out of you, because of course it is…

- the jealousy and possessiveness that arises inside of pelle as he watches you talk to his bandmates always stems from a place of fear and paranoia about the possibility that they might make a move on you despite them knowing that he has a crush on you and the insecurities and fears for how you might accept their advantages, how he would come to lose you before he even had you at all! despite the fact that they are in the same unusual and disturbed band, so to speak, pelle knows that his bandmates are still so much more normal and desirable in comparison to him, he knows that better than anyone because he is not at all stupid to how unusual and off putting others find him to be yet those same people do not feel the same about his bandmates, he knows it is a him thing rather than just a whole band thing in general! pelle knows how much more normal his bandmates are, he knows that none of them have much issue talking to people in a romantic manner unlike him, he has witnessed firsthand how they act around people they like or more so want at the frequent little parties held in the house and he just has such a strong fear inside of him that one of them might make a move on you before he even has the chance to finally confess his feelings for you, but he often sits through this fear in silence and just watches with a different than usual look in his eyes whilst picking at his clothes and even digging his nails deep into the pale skin of his palms and his knees at certain points

✩ pelle keeps a picture in the top drawer of the wooden desk in his bedroom of the shared band house, the picture is nothing too special, all it shows is you standing beside him and his bandmates whilst all of you look into the camera lens with different facial expressions, yours a warm expression with gentle eyes and a soft smile and his a kind of uncomfortable expression with hair in front of his face as he has a general kind of dislike for cameras! the three other boys in the picture are all doing their own silly little expressions and gestures and of course the picture was taken by jon when one of the usual parties had been taking place at the small house but pelle does not keep this picture in his drawer for any other reason than to look at you, the only reason he asked jon if he could have the picture was so that he could always have you to look at

- in fact, everyone else in the picture aside from you has their section folder over, not cut but just folded so that the only face visible when he pulls that picture out of his messy drawer is yours, so that the only eyes he ever looks into are your own, so that he only ever feels and sees the warmth in your eyes as you unknowingly look back at him through the sweet picture and offer him so much comfort in so many different ways when he is alone in the space of his own room

✩ both you as a person as well as your beautiful facial features alone became a major muse for pelle before the two of you even started to date, even before pelle realised that these things he felt for you meant that he had a crush on you and wanted to be with you! pelle would always find himself spending so much time on drawing full portraits of you on random pieces of plain paper that he had managed to find strewn across his bedroom and even just simple little quick doodles of your some of your features like your nose and your eyes on the backs of white paper envelopes that he had kept from letters he had received

- pelle finds an almost strange sense of comfort in the mere sight of your face and this remains so true even just when he draws your face down on a piece of paper! of course he never once thinks that his art pieces of you are anywhere near close to truly showing the full amount of almost unfathomable beauty and perfection that he thinks you have but drawing you just makes pelle feel so much closer to you in some ways and pelle would be lying to himself if he said that he had never drawn you naked at least once or twice since he first met you too, of course he had never actually seen your nude body in front of him before but he likes to think that he at least got it close in his little art pieces from how much he has observed your body through your clothes and he really hopes that he might be able to better his work from real life reference soon enough too…

✩ even when pelle spots an open porno magazine sitting idle atop one of the wooden tables in the small shared band house, when his blue eyes land down upon the fully nude and posed figure splayed out on the suspiciously sticky looking paper page? his mind just seems to automatically envision the nude model photographed on the page as you instead, his mind seems to always swap their face out for yours, change their hair colour to your own, alternate their nude figure to look like what he envisions yours does and so on! it will usually take either øystein or jan walking past him and giving him a firm slap on his slightly slouched over back to knock him clean out of his locked in state in front of the dirty little magazine and he will be so beyond quick to widen his eyes and make a hasty retreat back up to the privacy of his own room or even out into the deep woods that surround the house when they start to goad him on for finally taking a peak inside, of course not at all realising just why exactly he was really so entranced and interested in the picture

- all in all, pelle might tend to come off as just a little bit of a creep at times but not to you! maybe it is true that the very few times pelle ever jerks himself off in life are so soon after he has had some direct skin to skin contact with you but of course he would never ever tell you that, he would never tell you just how much your soft skin against his made his cock twitch and harden in the confides of his tattered denim jeans and his cotton black boxers, not even after the two of you begin to date one another after his sweet written letter confession to you <3

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Shit at Feelings ii

Bodhi Durran x Reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Spoilers!! Swearing, reader being stubborn and both reader and Bodhi being lil dummies?? Lmk if I missed anything.

A/n: the end of 2023 kicked my booty!! Beginning of 2024 no better, but here is part 2! I was stuck on if some of part 3 was going to go in this one, but decided not to. Meddling Imogen, and dragon dialogue is included this part!

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The next day, you stretched with Imogen, returning from a morning run. Most cadets were still sleeping their hangovers off. Imogen said the best way to get over one was running it off. She had picked your lock and dragged you out of your bed this morning to do so. But you knew she just wanted to gossip about the night before.

“So you and Durran?” She had a smirk on her lips, tucking a piece of vibrant pink hair behind her ear.

Imogen only knew about whatever you felt for Bodhi, but with the way Rhiannon reacted last night you weren’t sure if you were discreet about whatever you felt in the first place.

“Not what you think.” You sighed, your arms over your head as you sat on the ground, leaning to one side. “We talked once everyone went to bed.”

She looked at you expectantly as she lifted a leg and stretched it behind her. “And?”

You clicked your tongue, leaning to the other side. “And he called me out on my bullshit.”

She laughed almost manically, earning her a pointed glare. “I’m sorry, sorry.” She then dropped her leg and lifted her other. “But you really left him high and dry.”

You grumbled, “I know and I feel like shit about it.” You stood up dusting your leathers off.

“Y/n, just tell him how you feel.” She shook her hands out.

“How do you expect me to tell him everything when I’ve been avoiding him for years because I’m too scared that something will happen once I spill my guts.”

“Gods, I get it. You’re scared, but you already almost died once without telling him. You think you shouldn’t say a little prayer to Malek and Amari that they gave you a second chance?” Imogen said sternly. “Also if it was anyone else you pulled that disappearing act with, you wouldn’t have the same mercy. But it’s Bodhi we’re talking about, and he would let you lead him to hell and back as many times as you wanted because let’s face it—you’re you. And for some fucked up reason he worships the ground you walk on like you were a god yourself.”

You didn’t know if the queasiness you felt was the hangover or how right she was. He would do anything for you. Even how shitty you treated him for the last two years. Last night proved that.

“He even risked smuggling your fucking sketchbook in so you could have something from home—“

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

The pink haired girl inhaled sharply. “Fuck I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“He was the one that did that?” Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been so stubborn to avoid him, he thought of you? You had questioned the hell out of Garrick, Imogen, and Xaden for a week about it. You had never thought about the younger Riorson cousin.

“I hate being the middleman in your two demented whatever you got going on.” She sighed. “Listen, forget I said that or take that as a sign to pull your head out of your ass. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She patted your shoulder, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Well you felt like the shittiest person ever.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and you couldn’t run and avoid him this time. As much as you wanted to hop on Clesaí’s back and ride very far away. Fuck.

You had spent an hour already mulling over the information you had just received. Then replaying the argument last night—which then led to remembering the very brief exchange with Bodhi in Aretia, ultimately leading you to the nightmare from Resson plaguing your thoughts. Like they had when you tossed and turned in bed last night, and the prior nights before that. By the time you entered the mess hall, your thoughts felt like nonsense.

He sat with Imogen at the end of the table filled with third years. They looked deep in a discussion, whispering only to one another. You gulped quietly, were they talking about you? You now knew Imogen felt like a middleman between the two of you, you wondered what he talked about to her. You tried not to overthink it as you reluctantly walked over.

As you reached the table, you could hear Bodhi saying something quite harshly. While the pink haired girl had the same expression she wore when she told you to pull your head out of your ass. It was obviously something he didn’t want you to hear because as soon as he saw you coming up, he stopped mid sentence.

“Can we talk?” You asked him, not bothering to greet the pair. He tensed, and you didn’t miss the look he tried to discreetly give your mutual best friend.

Imogen rolled her eyes, grabbing her things and getting up from the table. “I totally forgot Quinn needed help with something. Bye guys.” She gave a twinkle of her fingers before walking away with a smug look on her face.

You sat down, taking the seat Imogen had been in. “So,” you awkwardly tapped your fingers on the wooden table.

“So,” he repeated. “How was your morning run with Immy?”

“Brutal.” You replied. Why was this so uncomfortable?

“Listen, about last night—”

“It needed to be said.” You waved a hand nonchalantly. Your heart begged to differ, beating against your chest. “I was icing you out.”

“I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

Was it possible for you to want a man more? Even during such an embarrassing display of emotion on your behalf? Trying not to focus on the fact you wanted to reach over and be the one tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, you stared at the wood grain of the table.

“I was stubborn.” You reasoned.

“Y/n Y/L/n, stubborn?” There was a tinge of amusement in his tone. “I guess there’s a first time for everything—I mean the taking accountability part at least.” You looked up, and saw him intently staring at you. Through the sarcasm, his brown eyes were warm like deep rich honey.

A ghost of a smile on your lips. “You know me better than anyone else apart from Imogen. The way I regarded you wasn’t fair.” You then contemplated your next words. “And I know—”

“Durran!” Dain walked over, Rhiannon, and a few other second and third year cadets behind him.

Bodhi flinched, shifting his attention to the group. “Yes, Wingleader Aetos?” He had icy malice as he took in Dain. You yourself could feel your anger rise when the third year came in your vicinity. He was the reason you had been in Resson, and why Liam and Soilel were dead.

Dain noted the unwelcome greeting from the both of you and faltered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “We have a meeting.” He cleared his throat, straightening back up.

The man sat across from you glared over to the brunette man. “I’ll be right there.” He then turned back to you with a softer look in his eyes and an apologetic smile where the scowl was a moment prior. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

You could feel the eyes of Rihannon linger on the two of you, and you knew the others now were acutely aware of the interaction as well.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries.” You brushed it off, though disappointment filled you. You were finally getting somewhere, but you knew he couldn’t ignore the newly appointed wingleader.

You had been looking down in your lap, missing the subtle look back Bodhi gave you as he left with the group.

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Later had come and gone with no sign of Bodhi still. Leaving a lurching feeling in your heart, but you tried not to wallow in self pity too much. You had thought maybe you deserved to be stood up. But at least you didn’t run this time, and it was his move now.

“The male of your affection causes too much of a distraction for you anyway.” Cleasaí huffed in your mind. Rolling your eyes you focused on the sketchbook in front of you. “Makes you a lovesick puppy as you would say.”

“Am not,” you bristled.

It was late in the afternoon and you were spending time with Cleasaí in the flight field, avoiding everyone. You had brought a blanket to lay on as you laid back against her front leg. She protectively curled around you, sunbathing, leaving you with a sufficient amount of shade to look at your sketchbook.

“I’m assuming you’ve never had a dragon that captured your affection?” You spoke out loud.

She nestled her head on the ground, huffing again. “I’d rather not say,” you could sense the disdain in her bored tone. A sly smile crept on your face, leaning up and staring right at the green dragon, who had feigned resting her eyes.

“You have, haven’t you?” Egging for more info from the clubtail.

“We haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a year.” Was all she grumbled. “Speaking of not seeing eye to eye. Your human approaches.”

“He’s not my human.” You hissed quietly, looking up to see Bodhi was indeed walking towards you, his dragon Cuir following a reasonable distance away.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He offered you a lazy smile, careful to avoid eye contact with Cleasaí. “Cuir said he thought he noticed Cleasaí leave the Vale.”

Your dragon sighed in annoyance. “Busybody,” she glowered in your head, causing you to grin. Did she mean Cuir or Bodhi? “I meant the annoying green one, but your human is quite a busybody as well. He couldn’t have waited until you came back from the flight field?” This caused a genuine laugh to escape your lips.

Bodhi only gave you a nervous look, “I hope she’s not talking about me.”

“You can tell him yes.” She grunted.

“No, she's just grumpy.” You lightly patted her scaly leg causing her to grunt again.

“How’s her claw?” He asked, scanning the injured back leg of hers.

“None of his business or that one’s over there.” She chuffed, baring her teeth toward Cuir. You didn’t know why she was persistent on one of her own den members not knowing of her condition.

Rolling your eyes, ignoring her. “She's doing better. She should be clear when lessons start again.”

Bodhi had a tight lipped smile on his own face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. Cuir whipping his head annoyed several yards behind him.

“I’m sorry, he can be quite the worrier especially over—”

An audible growl came from your dragon, earning a suspicious look from you.

“What is going on with you?” You scolded Cleasaí mentally.

“Worry about your own human afflictions.” Was all she said down the bond.

The man glanced at the book in your lap, and a grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re drawing in your sketchbook again?” He took a seat across from you on the ground, careful to not be too close to your dragon. Cuir had done the same in the distance.

You blushed slightly, “there’s a new sentimental value to it.” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking up at him. Bodhi had a gleam you couldn’t place in his eye, and his cheeks were blushed slightly too. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at his coyness. “I know you’re the one that brought the book back.”

“Who? Me? Why would I do that?” He propped his knees up, holding his forearms on them as he gazed up at the late afternoon sky.

He had always looked the handsomest during golden hour, your favorite features of his were enhanced. The tones of the setting sun had embraced his face, his eyes warm with gold flecks scattered throughout, and his onyx curls radiating chocolate brown undertones.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know I was wondering the same.” The broad smile painted on your face tilted downward.

“I thought maybe it would’ve been a dead giveaway, and you would have taken it as an olive branch.” He suggested, turning back to you.

You were thumbing at the page that it had been on, the textured parchment. Boy, were you an idiot.

“I thought you hated me or would have been tired of me by now.” You admitted.

“Why would I feel either of those things Y/n?”

“Because you offer me all this patience and kindness that I don’t deserve.” You said exasperated. “And in return I offer stubbornness and do everything in my power to avoid you.”

He chuckled dryly, “haven’t you realized? I don’t care.”

“Well I feel like you should.” This would be an argument that you wouldn’t let go. Screw Amari or Malek giving you a second chance, you didn’t feel worthy of that chance. Nor did you want to see anything happen to Bodhi if you were to accept him back into your life.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t control how I feel,” He looked back at the sketchbook in your lap. A smirk creeping onto his lips. “And apparently neither can you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he only made a subtle gesture to the book. You looked down, your cheeks turning bright red.

You had been aimlessly sketching, not thinking too much about what you were putting on paper. It started as just a pair of eyes, but then turned to a full blown portrait of a man. Not just any man though, it had a striking resemblance to Bodhi.

Who were you trying to fool? It was him. From the crinkle by his eye when he’s amused to the unruly curls that always fell in his face.

“That’s all I need to know,” the smirk had turned to a shit eating grin.

You kept opening your mouth trying to respond, but you were left speechless.

“You can’t pull your shit anymore, Y/l/n.” He lifted himself off the ground, wiping the dirt off his leathers standing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head furiously, finding your voice finally.

You wanted to wipe the cocky look off his face desperately. “Whether you admit it or not, you can’t hide from me anymore.” He responded so cooly, it made you grit your teeth irritatedly. “Don’t worry, Y/n/n your secret’s safe with me.” He teasingly held his hand over his heart. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Bodhi,” you groaned. You could feel the heat evade your face and ears. “It’s not that serious—“

“Serious enough to me.” He didn’t let your annoyance faze him. “I’ll see you around.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him leave down to the main campus. Cuir takes off into the sky and back to the Vale, leaving you and Cleasaí alone again. Releasing a sigh of air that you hadn’t known you were holding when he got out of the ear shot.

‘Lovesick puppy.’ Your dragon had hummed amused. Deep chirping sounds audibly coming from her. Was she laughing at you?

“Me?” You were quick to turn and glower, your lip tugging upward in aggitatation. “How about we talk about you for a second? What the hell was that?”

‘It’s just sometimes the male greens can be so…” she paused. ‘Suffocating?’ She was choosing her words wisely. As though it seemed like she was hiding something, but not surprising you though. Cleasaí was rather secretive, it was what she was known for in the green den. A trickster of sorts, with cunning deception.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You pressed further.

She chuffed, “I’d rather not divulge that at the moment, but in due time...” She drew, sounding almost feline.

You knew better to argue, she was just as hard headed as you, and if you pushed her too hard, she’d push right back. Then that got you both nowhere. So you stood, gathering your things to retreat to your dorm and get ready for dinner and tonight’s shenanigans.

“Sooner than later, please.” You gave her an expectant look.

She got up, shaking out her scales and stretched a bit. “Yes yes sooner than later, don’t fret Lovesick puppy.”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled over your shoulder as you retreated back to campus. You could hear the chuff she released in amusement in the distance as you descended the ancient stone stairs.

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Thank you so much for the patience and the support! Please do not hesitate to let me know your thoughts and feedback. Also like and reblog 🫶🩷🤠

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 17

This is the last chapter of this story. I do have the sequel halfway written and it will be most of the way, if not all the way done before I post the first chapter.

It's called "Everything I Ever Wanted" and will be four chapters, each based on a part of Steve's new life I wanted to highlight. Retirement, Steve's charity, the bonding and mating, and the birth of their first child and the fallout with his parents.

I will still keep the Glitters tag list for the sequel. I wouldn't normally, but it's such a little thing, it's just easier that way. If you want to be taken off the list for the sequel, let me know.

Here is Steve's happily ever after. As it should be.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

****

Steve hated his heats before, but he loathed them now. Now he had an alpha he wanted to share it with, only they weren’t allowed to.

It was only a mini heat to clear out a minor faux bond and would barely last twenty four hours, but they would be the most miserable twenty four hours of his life and that included the twenty four hours after he learned he was infertile.

But Robin was the best handler in the business for a reason. The second his body temperature spiked, Xander and her got Eddie out and into her apartment, still in rut as he was.

Then she rebuilt Steve’s nest from scratch to perfection with the minor edition of Eddie’s handkerchief under his pillow.

The handkerchief plus, Eddie’s scent still sending out waves toward Steve’s apartment would help mitigate the absolute misery he would be in, but he still hated it.

Once all traces of the heat were out of his system, and his temperature going back to normal was Steve allowed visitors. Not even Robin was allowed inside his bedroom during his heats.

Though that was mainly because the poor omega was so pitiful and crying that a lot of handlers would be emotional wrecks afterwards.

Robin had made the mistake once when a heat came a week early due to some stress that was happening in Steve’s life and she was a sobbing mess the whole time he was in heat.

No one knew why the sight of an omega in heat drove betas to such an extreme emotional response, but the prevailing theory was that it was an evolutionary throw back to the pre-historic era so that betas would be moved to not take advantage of the omega in their most vulnerable time.

He showered and stepped out to his front room and smiled. Robin and Eddie were on the sofa waiting for him.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie murmured. “How are you feeling?”

Steve groaned and flopped down on the seat between the two of them. “Like I’ve been run over. The mini heats are the worst. Because you can’t prepare for them.”

“Especially since that was his first mini heat,” Robin commented dryly, “that automatically makes it worse.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t usually get mini heats?”

“Nope!” Steve said, popping the P. “Robin carefully curates my clients so that it’s never happened. I’ve experienced faux bonds before, the chemical bonding of scents instead of an actual bite bond. Those are common enough. But no, no mini heats for me.”

Eddie looked over at Robin who looked smug.

“Well that’s good then,” he said.

Steve nodded. He chewed on his lower lip and sighed. “I think we need to talk about the golden omega thing. It’s not possible, right?”

Robin and Eddie raised their eyebrows.

“Stevie,” Eddie said gently, “not only is it possible, it’s highly probable.”

Steve looked over at Robin and she nodded.

“Wait, what?”

“You don’t have to do anything about it now,” Robin said. “As long as you are a Starcourt escort you’ll spend your heats alone. And then if you want to get bonded to Eddie and have pups with him, walk away from the job and then mate.”

Steve went stock still as he mulled it over in his mind. Eddie and Robin exchanged concerned glances but stayed silent as Steve’s entire world view was shifted on its axis.

Starcourt had always treated Steve like he was special. It was one of the reasons his cherry popping was such a major event. His parents had sneered at the whole experience, but the agency had gone out of their way to make Steve feel safe in the process.

But to be a golden omega for real? And not just because Eddie wanted him to be special. Not that Eddie didn’t already think he was special, but this would cement how special Steve actually was.

He knew his parents would immediately come out of the woodwork to claim more money for being a golden omega, but it would also be the sweetest justice imaginable.

Because they could have gotten more from Steve’s omegahood and chose to throw him away like he didn’t matter. Only coming back when they needed more money.

“Explain it to me,” he whispered.

And they did. Robin leading the way with Eddie filling in spots where he thought Steve needed more clarity. When they were done Steve looked at Robin and said with tears in his eyes, “If I retire do I lose you?”

Robin’s lip quivered and she got up on her knees. She gently took Steve’s face in her hands. “No. Absolutely not. Yes, an omega escort has to be a handler’s top priority, but you are my best friend. My platonic soulmate, you’d have to murder me to get me to leave you. Do you understand?”

Steve nodded and then threw himself into her arms. Having to choose between the love of his life and his best friend would have been the hardest thing he would have ever had to do. But this made it easy.

They talked about it for a bit and ultimately it was decided Steve would retire when he turned thirty. It would give him a couple more years do a job he loved, but still give Eddie and him plenty of time to have pups.

“That’s a perfect solution,” Eddie agreed. “And I think the band will agree to a couple years break making music so we can all focus on our family lives.”

Steve’s omega chirped happily. Eddie chuckled and pulled him onto his lap. He nuzzled Steve’s scent gland and the omega chirped again.

“Look at you,” Robin said happily. “All content and comfortable. You just got every thing you could ever want, you lucky bastard.”

Steve grinned at her. “I am so blessed.”

Eddie blew a raspberry under Steve’s ear causing him to giggle.

“Eddie!” he protested, trying to push the alpha away, but Eddie did it again, this time on his cheek.

Soon they were wrestling and Steve ended up on the floor, looking up at a surprised Eddie.

“Rude,” Steve huffed as he got to his feet.

“Oops!”

Robin shook her head.

Eddie brought out Steve’s silly side and Steve let Eddie be himself. Apparently the universe knew what it was doing after all with these two.

****

The next three years passed by in a blur.

Chrissy had become the star Steve always knew she was. But of course, that meant her ex-boyfriend and her mother found out about her leaving the convent.

Steve was actually there to witness their faces, purple with rage showing up at some event she was at. The alpha actress she was with had to call security to get them removed.

Chrissy released a statement through the agency that spoke of her love of the job, the religious abuse her mother had put her through, and the love she thought was eternal with Jason turning to ash when she found out she couldn’t bear his children.

She spoke of the love that the sisters had shown her when her mother had dropped her off at the convent against the wishes of her father and her own. About how half of her cherry price went to those same sisters who had protected her from the wrath of her mother for years.

She spoke about how she found her people with Starcourt Services. How she had good friends, made good money, and how her father had supported her every step of the way. And how the other half of her cherry price would always be waiting for her if she ever wanted to leave. Something that after some serious soul searching she knew would not be for a long, long time.

Chrissy’s story burst open a scandal that had been the Church’s best kept secret, that a third of the omegas that came to them after learning they were infertile were brought there against their will by religious extremist parents not wanting their omega child to live their own lives.

Max and Lucas finally announced they were bonding after Lucas played his first game in the NBA as the first omega point guard for the Indiana Pacers, having won their law suit.

With Steve retiring, Robin was going to be Chrissy’s handler. Robin hadn’t lasted with Vickie due to them wanting different things out of life. Robin loved her job, but Vickie wanted more of her time to be focused just on her, something Robin wasn’t willing to do.

Tommy had been kicked out of the agency after he had a very public fight with his ex-girlfriend, Carol. He was supposed to be escorting Billy Hargrove but had found him in a bathroom with known omega starlet, Heather Holloway, his dick in her.

Carol had thrown it in his face that he couldn’t even get wandering Billy Hargrove to stay still long enough. Tommy had thrown hands and Starcourt had thrown him out.

Last Steve heard he was working as a pre-school teacher, barely making a tenth the amount he was at Starcourt. But he had found an alpha and they were happy together, satisfied for the first time in his life.

Jonathan was pregnant with Nancy and his second child. Steve was actually happy for them when they announced it.

Eddie’s band was topping the charts and had done a couple of tours. Steve had missed him, but with work keeping him busy, they were able to keep up a healthy communication.

Elinor and Gareth had decided to bond. Elinor knew that she would never reach the heights of Steve or Chrissy so when the last of her cherry price had been paid, she left the agency to be a rockstar’s wife.

Steve couldn’t wait to spend his first heat with Eddie. What was even better was the fact that Eddie’s rut had synced up with Steve’s heat and everyone knew to stay away for that week.

Their bonding and wedding ceremony was the talk of the town, Steve and Eddie surrounded by all their friends and loved ones. The whole Party was there.

Steve had taken preemptive measures against his parents, knowing that they would try and get more money from him, once Eddie and Steve announced that they had gotten pregnant.

He had a protective order ready to spring into affect the moment they tried anything. Lawyers on speed dial, and security on standby.

He had the life he had always dreamed of. A soulmate who would bond him and give him the pups he so desperately desired, who loved and cared for him like no one in his life could match. Robin came close. Because of course she did. Maybe not more or less than Eddie, but different.

And when that first little one came to loving and adoring parents, Steve knew that regardless if Dustin was omega, alpha, beta, or infertile Eddie and Steve would love him and support him no matter where he chose to go in life.

And that was the perfect ending to Steve’s story, he thought. Eddie couldn’t help but agree.

****

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[grave-z-boy]

Right so I love your writing and just need more mx m cause fuck I'm tired of imaging dead me .

I'm a Trans man..I think ( female to male ??) So I was hoping for a fic somewhat like that . Arthur and reader meet when they're female but 2 years later or so they meet again and arthur doesnt recognize y/n (because they transitioned) I just want some fluff and acceptance of that . I know back then homosexuality was a big no no and being trans is unheard of so it'll be fun to see where you take it.

Arthur Morgan x Trans!Male!Reader

Summary: You’ve felt stuck and unhappy for years, so, in pursuit of your own happiness you leave everyone and everything you’ve even known behind. Including your currently out of state lover, Arthur Morgan.

Word count: 6,011

Warnings: reader is a bartender, reader steals, readers sister and mother are mentioned, implied past sex between Arthur and reader, drinking and alcoholism mentioned (not reader or Arthur), y/n and his guns, guns mentioned, shooting mentioned, abandonment, hurt comfort, reader being One Of The Guys™️, sleep deprived Arthur, Tilly being helpful, reader get misgendered and deadnamed a lot but it’s before they knew he was trans, reader cries really fucking hard at one point Arthur being sleep deprived, sleep deprive Arthur being really gay for Reader, not mentioned in the story but the reason Arthur is so tired is because about half way though his second trip to town his horse bucked him off for pushing her too hard and he had to walk the rest of the way, worlds longest warning list damn

Sept. 15, 18XX

My Dear Arthur Morgan

It’s been thirteen months since I saw you last. The time has passed slowly for me- sometimes it felt as though I was standing still for days at a time. Like everyone and everything around me was moving forward- but for me, and only me, time stood still. In the months since you’ve left it seems my joy, as well as a my love for my home town, has dwindled to nothing. Staying here, the way I am, it pains my heart. I know I said I would be here, that I would wait for you to return. But I need to change and the change that I need cannot be achieved here. The people here know me, they’ve known me my whole life, and no matter what I do I will always be that same little girl to them.

I’m heading up to a little town in Nevada, maybe I can start over there.

Always yours, D/n.

Arthur received your final letter months ago. In the time since he’s read it hundreds of times, mulling over every little detail. The crumbles in the paper, the unevenness of your writing, the all too familiar tear stains that permanently warped small circles on the page, the way your name ripped through the paper, as though you’d traced it dozens of times before sending it off.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what happened, why after all this time of waiting, all this time of writing him dozens of love letters, why you decided to say goodbye, he understood change. Arthur has seen people change, he’s changed, and if it was change you needed he’d do it again. But you left. If he really wanted to, he could find you, ride day and night, ask everyone he saw if they’d seen the beautiful woman that he loved more than anything. But…

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be hunted down, you didn’t need to be convinced. You needed change, not a reason to stay the same. So he let you go and even when the following days were filled with the nothing but pain and confusion and the complete desolation your decision brought, he still let you go.

The gang knew he was hurting, he was withdrawn, went off on his own for a couple of days. They figured he went to find you, but when he returned, without you and in a severely worse state, they knew not to press him on it.

You weren’t much better.

This was your decision and you were going to live with it. You yearned for Arthur, every day and every night, it was different from waiting for him in your hometown, he was the one who’d left then, but you knew he’d come back to you one day. Now you were the one leaving, and you could never go back to him.

You needed to move on, you sold every piece of clothing you had to a local tailor, it was almost funny to see some of your nicer dresses displayed in the window the next morning, early on, your new wardrobe came from various drunk men. You’d be surprised just how much you could find in an alley next to a bar. After you had an outfit, a proper male outfit, you were able to assimilate.

You lived above a tavern. The owner was far too old and far too tired to run it anymore, and he wanted to live in his own house for the first time in decades, so he offered you the place for a little over a hundred bucks. You worked at the bar at night, while you handled various chores and other responsibilities during the day. The pay wasn’t great, but you had a permanent place to stay and spare food from the bar to eat, and it was more than enough.

You’d taken up a new name, y/n, you thought about it for a long time before you left. A good name, the name of a proud man with no connection to who you were before. No one ever questioned you. You were just a man to them. They teased you, in the earlier days, called you feminine, pointed out your hand, your cheeks, and your hips among other things, but in the end it was just teasing, they didn’t know why you were like that, and they didn’t question when you put in an effort to change or hide your more feminine aspects. Maybe they were just too drunk to care.

You loved this life, you were just the friendly bartender.

But even with this new life, you found yourself missing aspects of you’re old one.

Your old friends, your old family, your old lover. They wouldn’t take you back, not like this, they’d think something was wrong, they’d try to change you, try force you back into the box you clawed yourself out of.

But still you dreamed of them, your sisters cooking, the way she was effortlessly graceful even when she was teasing you, your friends, the girls you’ve know since you were in diapers, singing, making flower crowns, getting into trouble. Arthur…

You dreamed of Arthur the most. Your days and nights were filled with thoughts of him. You think back to your last night together, the way he held you so tightly, you swore you could still feel his hands there. The praises he muttered, the love he confessed through out the night, every move he made, the way he left and the hole that was left in your chest after.

You dreamed of him, like one day you’d wake up and he’d be beside you. And he tell you that he loved you, not d/n, not the girl from before, but you, y/n, as your truest self.

But just like yesterday, and the days before that, he wasn’t there when you opened your eyes.

The sun was just coming up. But the sliver of light that did shine through the window seemed to magically be angled at your eyes. Making the rest you so desperately wanted impossible.

You pushed yourself up with a groan, your elbow popping the moment you were upright, your eyes were just barely open, you scratched your chest and let out a long yawn.

Your room was still dark for the most part, but you were still able to pull on some pants and fasten a belt so you could head downstairs. The tavern was empty, you cleaned up good last night and you wouldn’t have to worry about really opening until later. Still, you unlocked the front door and flipped the wooden sign in the window to say open, the people here knew you weren’t really open to serve, you were just open to the chatty people that passed through in the morning, locals coming to say hi, or travelers in need of direction, others came to sit with their friends and get out of the violent Nevada sun. Either way, you’d be polite enough to them, but they weren’t welcome for a drink for another couple of hours.

Stepping into the backyard you picked the laundry off the line and into a basket. You heard the bell up on top of the front door ring a couple of times. As you got closer to the back door you could hear the faint chatter of two people inside, Doctor Mayer, one of three doctors in town, and Anita, a house wife. She was in here more often than her husband was, but you always figured that she just needed something to do while he worked considering you’ve only ever seen her drink a handful of times in the past year.

When you came through the back door she let out an excited yelp,

“Y/n!” She shouted, like she hadn’t seen you the night before.

“Mrs. Matthews.” You said with a respectful nod. “How’s you’re husband?”

She groaned, “paranoid.”

Setting the basket down on the bar, in between the upturned stools, you turned back to her.

“He used to be a farmer, farmers are always paranoid.”

“He was not a damn farmer, don’t let that man fool you, he was a farm hand, it’s different,”

Dr. Mayer piped in, his voice low and tired, though that just how he always sounded, “the bastard smells like one…”

“It’s getting warmer out there.” You responded, leaning against the bar.

“Doesn’t mean he has to walk around smelling like a damn animal!”

You laughed, turning back to Anita, “what does your husband do anyway?”

“He’s a banker, which is why he’s so damn paranoid in the first place.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well..” she stated, adjusting herself in her chair, “one of his colleague’s brother-in-law told his colleague that he saw a gang ‘a outlaws heading up this way, but here’s the kicker, Johnny, the colleague, is a notorious liar. Lies left and right like his life depends on it.”

“Johnny Flores?” You asked.

She smacked the table, “That’s the bastard!”

“Yeah, he comes in here every Wednesday like clockwork, telling the boys his stories. It’s a surprise the whole town hasn’t heard about this..”

“Well, it isn’t Wednesday yet, is it? It’ll make it’s way into you’re bar, don’t worry”

You laughed again, grabbing the basket off the table you said, “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, got a few more thing to settle.”

You weren’t too worried about the rumors, there wasn’t much in the town anyways, no sheriff either so if they did come and make noise, it’d be a free for all and they’d leave with less than they came with. Everybody had a gun, hell- you had two, a shotgun the last owner had given you, and a pistol Arthur had given you a few weeks before he left, one was under the bar on a shelf, the other was under your bed, you’ve never really had a need for either, but if Johnny was being truthful for once in his life, which you doubted, you figured it was good to have them.

That night, when the bar did open, a few unfamiliar faces strode in, though none were to shady. A couple of working girls took to them quick and they were gone after being chatted up by for a bit. Outside of that, it was a normal night.

You closed late, shooing out the last drunk nearly two hours later than usual. Wiping down the tables, flipping the chairs and stools on them, washing the glasses, sweeping, mopping and making sure the front and back door was locked before heading upstairs. You scrubbed yourself down at your washstand. Of all things you missed from your old home, your bathtub was one of the bigger ones. Your mother had invested in it early on, and now you were saving to have one installed here too. What you wouldn’t do for a hot bath after a long day. You were almost there, another fifty dollars and you’d have all the money you needed. That’s were a good portion of your money went, you didn’t mind, after all you’ve sacrificed you deserve something nice.

——-

A couple of weeks later, Wednesday afternoon, Johnny Flores and a couple of his friend decided to take over the seats directly in front of the bar. Again, he told stories of bandits headed your way, but he was “serious” this time.

“I swear, I know what I saw, Dutch’s boys, just like the damn posters! I saw them coming from the east, clear as day.”

Before one of his friend could respond you asked, “and what the hell were you doing in the east, huh?”

“Well-“ he straightened himself out, “I was out with my lady friend-“

“The prostitute-“ his friend, Oscar, interrupted.

“-Not a prostitute, she's a-”

“-escort-” both Johnny and his three friends said together, they've heard that one before.

“Isnt that the same thing?” you asked.

“He doesn't think so!” Oscar said.

“They almost knocked our carriage over!” Johnny shouted, getting the conversation on track.

“Sure they did..” you said, drying the glass in your hand before setting it back down. “Bet they stuck you up too, only let you live cuz you're so pretty.”

“Go to hell, y/n.”

“I'll go where ever your lying, drunk ass ain't.”

“Im not lying, and I’m not drunk either, so get me another whiskey, asshole!”

“Hey now,” Daniel, who was also a regular, piped up, “careful how you talk to him, he might shoot ya’”

You set the glass down in front of him, he snatched it quickly, gulping it down.

“Or I might just piss in your whiskey.”

He choked hard, luckily the drink went down his throat instead of all over your counter, then you would have shot him. His face morphed to one of irritation, but his friend's laughter was infectious and he found himself laughing along with them.

The night ended with you carrying a passed out Johnny to the alley, you cleaned up, scrubbed yourself down, and went to bed just as you always did.

The next morning a delivery was made to the bar, food and alcohol, you kept your meats and some of your more expensive liquor in the ice box and things like bread and supplies were kept on the shelf. Food wasn't ordered commonly in the tavern, but there were those who ate here nearly every night because they had no skill for cooking and no one else to do it for them. You enjoyed those people, and you think they enjoyed you too, especially since the last owner would drive them out if they tried to come in for more than three days in a row. He thought that they were stealing food from other customers, but you didn't, You knew they were just hungry and needed to eat, and they couldn't be stealing because they always paid.

After that, your day was pretty normal- other than what you consider to be one the best things to happen to you in a long time- your bathtub, your beautiful porcelain bathtub with golden feet and faucet, was done. Fully installed and in perfect working order. You weren't going to pretend to understand how the man you paid did it, but he did. And finally, after what felt like years, you were able to take a hot bath.

It was weird, staring down at your distorted body as you soaked. Usually, when you scrubbed yourself down at the washstand all you could think of was how desperately you wanted this to be over. Your mind was clear, but that clarity only lasted so long though, as it did most nights, your mind wander to Arthur.

Saying you missed him was redundant, it was meaningless, it was stupid. You know, but you did. Letting out a long sigh, the last time you saw Arthur was like a dream, you spent an entire day together, you woke up together, ate together, bathed together, dressed together- everything you did, every little move you made reminded you of that day. And with Johnny spreading rumors about the Dutch’s gang, you heard his name more and more. You let yourself sink into the water, your eyes clenched shut as warm water covered your face. You stayed there longer that you should have, when you finally sat up, you were nearly gasping for air.

You got out few minutes later, you were tired, dressing yourself halfway before collapsing into bed.

You didn’t dream that night, your mind either too tired or too pained to show you your usual fantasies.

——-

Arthur swore he wouldn’t look for you, he swore it to you and to himself that he’d let you be free. But it seemed unavoidable now. Dutch had settled the gang in a large clearing in Nevada, the gang was mostly hidden by a small chain of mountains, and there was a streak of towns and settlements all within a couple dozen miles from each other.

There weren’t many cities in Nevada, it was dry and damn near impossible to farm out here if you didn’t know what you were doing, and if that wasn’t enough, the heat would be.

You were out there somewhere.

Dealing with the heat, with the drought, and with the shitty crops. And you still didn’t go back home. He’s been to your home. He's gone back dozens of times, you were never there, whatever you wanted to do, whatever changes you made, you succeded. He was happy for you, you were happy, God he hoped you were happy- he doesn't know what he'd do if he found out you weren't. If you were somewhere miserable and sulking, all this time, when you could have been with him.

He pushed those thoughts back- you were happy, you had to be.

When Arthur mentioned he was riding into the nearest town, he got a few odd looks. It wasn't a secret that you'd run off to Nevada, not even close. Most didn't say much, maybe a quick good luck, or a request for something from town. Some didn't say anything, but Dutch did. Dutch warned him, warned him about you and how some changes weren't good, and if Arthur did see you that he needed to be careful.

Arthur wasn't one to ignore advice, and he didn't ignore it, he thought about it as he road through the desert lands of Nevada, but whatever changes you made, he could handle it. He wasn't a child, he didn't need have his hand held. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd been in this town, or the next one. So for all he knew he'd never have to face you're changes.

The town was bustling with life. The people went about their business. The town was…normal. Small, busy, and normal. He road in unbothered, no one here seemed to care enough to even look when the man when he trotted by.

Hitching his horse to a sturdy pole he set off to one of the small shops nearby, after picking up some extra oat cakes and apples for the horse, he tried to find the sheriff’s office, only to find that this town didn't have one after asking a mildly disheveled yet nicely dressed man for directions, no government either. The town was its own unit outside of the occasional trading.

“Danny Hikman used to be the law here, well, not really, but he kept people on the right track. Encouraged them to do right- and get guns, he used to run a bar a little down the way, gave it to his nephew or something-” the man said, laughing slightly.

“‘ bar any good?” he asked, only half listening to the man.

“The best, fresh food, cold whiskey- bartenders a good guy too, won't hesitate to throw your ass out though.”

“I’ll bet- which way’s that bar, again?”

———

You started serving earlier than usual today, mostly so you could close earlier without complaint. The familiar chime of the bell above the door called your attention for a less than a second, you recognized Johnny, then looked back down at the glasses you were cleaning.

“Changing your schedule on me, Johnny? I thought you were a Wednesday man?”

He let out a short laugh, sitting in the spot directly in front of you, “just showing a friend around.”

“You’re friends are all alcoholics, I doubt they need help finding a bar.”

“Hey now, I’ve got a new friend. Mr. Uhh-“

“Arthur.”

You felt like you’d just jumped out of your skin, the glass in your hand clattered against the floor, ever so sturdy. Landing thankful one piece. Staring at the man in front of you, standing just behind Johnny, Arthur Morgan, right there, looking just the way he did when he left, just the way you remember him.

He glanced at Johnny, then back at you- it felt like he looked right through you. Looking at you with none of the love or adoration from before. Because he loved d/n, not y/n. Y/n was just a bartender to him, an awful one who apparently couldn’t even hold a damn glass.

Your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your chest was tight and you could feel your throat start to close as tears weld in your eyes. Quickly, you broke eye contact with Arthur, ducking down under the bar to grab the glass, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the forming tears in your eyes before standing up.

“Sorry boys,” you muttered, “you’re, uh, friend startled me is all.”

Taking off his hat and setting down on the counter, Arthur took a seat on one of the stools.

“Sorry, your friend here talked you up quite a bit, had to see for myself if what he said was true.”

You let out a laugh, forced and almost nervous, setting the glass down with the rest of the dirty glasses, you said, “Trust me, it’s true, what you looking for Mr. Arthur?”

“Just Arthur, and whiskey, thanks.”

You nodded to the man before heading to the storage room, you’d hate to admit it, but you wanted to run, straight passed the storage room and out the back door. But that would make Arthur think something was wrong, and yes, something was wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t recognize you, and that was okay, it was supposed to be okay, you left so you wouldn’t be recognized, you left to start over. But he’s out there, and you were hiding in the storage room so you wouldn’t have to face him. You gave yourself a moment, for your throat to release and for your heart to stop pounding and aching. Only the pounding stopped. You needed to work, you couldn’t let them know anything was wrong.

Grabbing a bit of higher quality whiskey out of the icebox, feeling the frosty glass sting your hand as you carried it out of the storage room. Without looking up at the man you grabbed one of the clean glasses and poured him about half a glass. You remember Arthur complaining about it once, only getting serviced the tiniest amount of alcohol, no matter the price. Capping the bottle you gave a short wordless nod before setting it under the counter. Arthur grabbed the glass, before he could speak you were on the other side of the bar, serving somebody else.

Johnny didn’t stay long, he had other things to do on a Thursday afternoon, but Arthur stayed, you poured him a couple more glasses before cutting him off, at least from your expensive whiskey.

“How much do I owe you?” He ask, his speech a bit slurred as he sat unsteadily in his seat.

“Nothing, I’ll put it on Johnny’s tab, come Wednesday he won’t notice it.”

“Thank you kindly-“

“Y/n-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You have a good night Mr. Morgan.”

You crawled into bed that night, still in your day clothes, feeling like your heart had been torn out of your chest. And you cried, you cried until the sun came up, until your body couldn't cry anymore and every sound you made was a rough heaving sob. And when you had no more energy left to sob, you stared at your open window, watching the sunrise, listening to the people.

You were supposed to open today, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, staring out the window, at the people, at Mrs. Matthews waiting across the street for you to open your doors.

You flipped the sign back, you stated at the word “OPEN” facing you, then at Mrs. Matthews's face fell as the word “CLOSED” faced her.

————

Sitting on his cot, journal on his lap, Arthur stared at the picture he drew. It wasn't perfect, considering he was half drunk when he drew it, but it was something. The bartender from last night. He was…something. A nervous something. Arthur felt bad for him when he dropped the glass, then he just…stared at him, long enough for Arthur to get a spark of familiarity when he saw his face. Arthur tried to get his attention as the night went on, ordering drinks, asking questions, trying to get the man to stay close, be he'd walk away the moment he'd answered or served him.

He wasn't like that with other patrons, he laughed, he joked- then he kicked everyone out.

He heard him say he was closing early, but let him stay until he finished his last drink. Arthur thought about the name he'd given. Y/n.

“I see you're drawing d/n again, did you catch her in town?”

Looking up he saw Tilly standing next to him with a kind smile on her face.

“No, it's not d/n, some bartender in town, he looks so familiar.”

Tilly hummed, sitting on the cot with Arthur and taking the book out of his lap. She flipped through the pages quickly before finding a drawing of d/n, with your final letter stuck right next to it.

“Needs a change, huh? Maybe she skipped town and became a bartender, you never know.”

“A bartender and a man?”

“You never know Arthur. Maybe that's why she left, couldn't make a change like that where people know you. They would've hunted her down.”

“Tilly..”

“Maybe you should talk to the bartender, if it's not her then it's not her, but if it is, are you really going to miss seeing her again because you won't take a chance?”

Handing the journal back to him she said, “Just think about it, at least.” Then she walked away.

————

You heard the slam of the front door behind you as you sat the freshly cleaned glasses on the rack. If you were going to sulk and lock yourself in the bar then you were going to clean while you did it.

“We’re closed..” you said, your tone not exactly customer friendly.

You had a list of things you needed to do, you've already mopped the floor, scrubbed the tables and walls, washed every glass, plate, and utensil, did your laundry, scrubbed your tub, cleaned your room-

“D/n..?”

You paused, then glanced over your shoulder. You knew it was him, you already knew, you knew his voice too well to ever mistake it. Taking a breath, you hands shaking and heart pounding, you turned around.

“Arthur, I-” you breathed out, but you didn't know what to say. “How did you-”

“Lucky guess..”

Taking slow steps towards the bar, you heard him sigh.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure.

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah I'm okay.”

“We should talk-”

“Yes, we should-”

You stepped from behind the counter, still unsure as to what could happen next. Then, without warning, you were pulled into a tight hug, Arthurs's body practically enveloping yours. You stood there, holding him as tightly as you could until your arms started to burn from the strain.

You didn't know what to say, or how to explain what happened, the realization you went through while he was gone, why you left.

When you pulled away you still didn’t know what to say, you opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. You kept your face glued to the ground for a long moment.

“You look different, I didn’t recognize you yesterday..”

You pulled out one of the stools.

“I told you I needed change.”

He pulled another out beside you.

“I know, I just don’t know what I was expecting.”

“This must be so confusing.”

“It is, but I’m betting it was more confusing for you that it could be for anybody else.”

Leaning on the counter, you looked up at him.

“I guess so. In my home town I figured that they’d be a little more angry than confused so I left..” you stopped, taking a breath, “I didn’t want to leave you, Arthur.”

Arthur sat there silently, his eyes turned towards the counter.

You couldn’t help but stare, you haven’t seen him in so long, his eyebrows were slightly scrunched downward, his pretty blue eyes focused on nothing as his mind raced. His fingers tapped against the counter every few seconds. You tried not to let that anxious feeling in your chest build, but the longer he was silent, the harder it got to push down.

“You said you aren't happy anymore..”

You blinked.

“I wasn't.”

“How about now? Are you happy now?”

“I'm.. I have more good days than I did before, so…yeah, I'm happy.”

He stayed silent for another moment. You figured he was just trying to find his words.

Then, when he did speak,

“I still love you.”

You sighed, “I still love you, too, Arthur.”

Another long silence passed. It was odd, you've dreamed of seeing him again, all the damn time. And now that he's here you didn't know what to say. Your relationship, how ever strong it was before, was dying. Even though you loved him and he loved you.

Arthur was having similar thoughts, he didn't care how much you changed, he wanted you to be happy. That's all he wanted for you. But he wants to be with you, he doesn't care that your a man, it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't think it's ever mattered. He's never thought too hard about it. But now, with you sitting there looking the way you did. Looking so different, so muchlike yourself, so much more at peace even though you were being confronted, he thought, ‘yeah, I could be with a man.’

Before he could, you took a chance.

“How long you thinking of staying in town for, Arthur?”

———-

You laughed, he missed your laugh.

“You can't just go around taking people's clothes off!”

“I needed clothes and they were so drunk they wouldn't miss them!” you argued.

“How have you not been caught yet?”

“I bought new clothes!”

“Why couldn't you do that first?”

“I needed to avoid suspicion.”

“Avoid suspicious by stealing clothes..”

You laughed again.

You and Arthur had found your way upstairs, both of you sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He asked you how you ended up here, it was funny, explaining to Arthur, a known outlaw, the various ways you broke the law, and having him lecture you.

“I will not take this from an outlaw!”

“You're an outlaw too, now, Clothes Bandit.”

“Oh that's awful, why couldn't I get something good?”

“‘Good’ like what?”

“I don't know, you're better at naming things than I am.”

He looked over at you a small smile on his face.

“Really now, Mr. Y/n, how’d you come up with that anyways?”

“Well I found a baby naming book.”

He sat up, giving you a look.

“Are you serious?”

You looked at him for a second, a stren expression on your face, then slowly a smile broke out on your face.

“You're an ass.”

“You really think I got Y/n for a baby naming book?”

“You could have!”

“But I didn't-”

Eventually, after showing him your room and the various aspects of your new life that you adored (yes, the tub too), you headed back down to the bar, only to see Daniel, one of Johnny’s friends, behind the bar serving himself.

“Daniel, I'm going to kill you, how many drinks have you had?” you said, rushing over to him, snatching both the glass and bottle from his hand.

“One-” you gave him a look, he caved quickly with a sigh, “five.”

“Goddamnit.”

“‘M sorry, you are closed, your never closed!”

“I wouldn't be serving drinks this early anyways!”

He laughed, walking around to the other side of the bar, “I'm special though right? Won't get shot or banned or nothing?” he practically pleaded, but formed it like a question.

“No, you're not banned, but you still need to leave.”

He sighed, dragging himself out the door.

Sighing yourself, you turned to Arthur, “See what I have to deal with?”

“‘Seems like a handful.”

“Daniel is harmless, he's just an alcoholic.”

“Never met a harmless alcoholic.”

“He's harmless now, he doesn't want to risk almost getting shot again.”

Arthur laughed, sitting at the bar, just like had yesterday, “Who shot at him?”

You stared at him for a moment.

“You?”

“I gave him plenty of warning, see that hole in the wall that there—” you pointed to the very back wall of the tavern, between two tables was a loosely patched hole, “- warning shot, missed him by an inch.”

“Who the hell taught you how to shoot?”

“I taught myself, maybe I could teach you sometime.”

“Very funny, y/n, I wouldn't mind seeing you shoot sometime though.”

“There's a range in the next town, I could take you there sometime.”

The two of you talked until the sun had fully set and the town had gone quiet. The bar made you feel more open somehow, it always did. Arthur helped too, you guess. You missed him, you missed being like this, so normal with him. You were surprised his quickly things settled back in place, like neither of you had ever left. It was clear that you were different, but Arthur seemed to accept this change flawlessly. He never messed up, seemingly having ingrained every aspect of your new life into his mind.

Y/n, Mr.Y/n, Sir, he even called you handsome, you swear you nearly fell over when he did.

By midnight, you both were tired, and despite what he planned before, which was bringing you- if it was you, back to camp with him. But that plan never fell through, you ended up pulling him into the bathroom with you. You thought you'd be uncomfortable at first, but you figured if he was going to be back in your life you should get used to him seeing you naked again. But it wasn't, it was calm, comforting. You were thankful for your massive bath, the both of you fit well, you sat behind him, his hat tossed in on top of the heap of clothes you two had left, you ran your fingers through his hair, water from your hands running down his face. He hummed in contempt. He didn't speak much at first, simply enjoying you and your presence. It wasn't until the water had begun to cool and the cold air of the Nevada night started to seep in did he pressed himself closer to you, muttering something quietly.

It wasn't until you got out, long after the water cooled, we're you able to figure out what he was saying. You had some clothes you figured might fit Arthur, something you'd bought impulsively without actually checking to see if you could fit it.

“You have…nice arms-” he muttered.

You were pulling your pants up over your waist when he spoke, you turned to look at him, one hand holding your unbuttoned pants up, you asked, “Arthur, are you drunk?”

“No, no I'm just…real tired.”

“Didn't get much sleep?”

“I didn't sleep, I kept thinking of you.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

He groaned, “Tuesday, I was on watch Wednesday, I was pre occupied by your ass on Thursday, and now here we are.”

“Fucking Christ, go to sleep.”

“I want to look at you, I missed you-”

“I'll be here in the morning Arthur.”

He didn't respond for a long moment, you figured he dozed off finally, until you decided to switch shirts, shoving the one you had on into your drawer and pulling out another.

“You have a nice back too-”

“Good night, Arthur.”

Your night ended with you curling up around Arthur, your arms nearly wrapped completely around him. You didn't dream again tonight, your usual fantasies of seeing Arthur were deemed useless now and we're thrown out with the rest of today's mental trash.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @emtb319

From @emtb319 to @room-on-broom

Prompts:

-Stingray crossover

Universe: Thunderbirds 1965/Stingray 1964

Characters:  Gordon Tracy, Jeff Tracy, Sam Shore, Atlanta Shore, Marina, Troy Tempest, Phones Sheridan

Summary:  Marineville receives a surprise visitor to help them on a research mission.

Worth It

World Security Patrol had requested Stingray for this particular research mission.  It was a relatively simple one, but they needed well trained people that didn’t need much direction or babysitting.  Hence, the call to Commander Shore to borrow his Stingray crew.  

They had a new hydrofoil craft that served multiple purposes.  The first was its ability to glide over the water fast enough to rival some forms of air travel.  This would allow them to respond to water emergencies much faster.  The second was that it was also a research vessel.  When not needed for emergency dispatches, they could utilize the crew for deep sea exploration.  

Commander Shore looked over the mission notes with Troy. They needed to sort through crew and supply needs.  After all, they were expected to assist with the research, not just accompany for support.  They would have the hydrofoil crew too.  He just needed to fill in the gaps.    

“I only have room on Stingray for 1 more person.”  Troy said, “but I don’t think that we have any 1 person in Marineville that fits.  We may need to add a second vessel.”  He mulled over his list some more.  

“You need an aquanaut, historian, someone with both hydrofoil and deep trench experience.”  Commander Shore looked over Troy’s mission notes.  “They should probably be trained in rescue and a medic too.”

“Yes.  This is a unique mission with a unique craft.  My problem is space limitations on Stingray.  I need Phones and Marina with me.  Marina will be on hydrophone duty with him.  She needs practice for her exam anyway.”  Commander Shore rubbed his chin.  Troy saw the wheels turn in his head.  

“I have an idea.  I need to make a call, but I don’t think that we’ll get an answer right away.  Hell Troy, I don’t know if he'll even consider it.”

“Who do you have in mind?” 

“Wait and see Troy.  To be honest, it’s a very long shot.  While I make my call, you gather a possible second crew, in case I have to give 2 of my craft for this one, instead of just Stingray.”

–

Commander Shore went to his home to make this call in private.  It was a long shot, but maybe his old friend would do him this favor.  He knew that his former Lieutenant was in a new stage of life that didn’t include active duty with the WASP’s.  After a few short rings, the call connected.  

“Good morning Jeff.”  Jeff smiled when he saw his old friend on the other side of the line.

“Sam, it’s been a while.  How are you?”

“All’s well over here.”  Sam looked around.  “Say, are you alone?”

“It’s just me here at the moment, why?” Jeff was confused.  His old friend didn’t call often, and now he acted weird.  

“Hang on, I need to make sure that Atlanta hasn't come home yet.”  Sam disappeared from view for a moment, then returned.  “I need a favor from International Rescue.”

Jeff gave him a look.  Although he had high ranking friends in the military, only 2 knew about International Rescue, and they both knew Jeff’s feelings about any joint operations.  

“It’s not like that Jeff.  It’s a research/exploration thing.  I need Gordon.”  Sam explained the rest of the details of the mission.

“Our operation is a secret for a reason Sam.  What will your people think when they see one of my Thunderbirds approach?”

“Thunderbird 4 would approach from underwater and would only go as far as Stingray’s pen.”  Jeff shook his head and chuckled to himself.  Realization hit him, as Sam explained more.  “He would be with the Stingray crew.  Thunderbird 4 would stay parked and secure in Stingray’s pen.”

“You want to tease Captain Tempest.”  Not a question, but a statement of fact.  Jeff laughed some more, and Sam looked back at him with an impish grin.  “Let me talk to my son.  I’m okay with it, with the understanding that if I need him for a rescue, he needs to leave, but the decision will ultimately be his.”

“That’s all I can ask.  Thanks Jeff.  I really appreciate this.”

–

Jeff heard the telltale signs of Tracy 1’s return to the island.  Gordon had volunteered to do this month’s supply run to the mainland and was on final approach.  Jeff cleared him to land and went down to the hangar to discuss his call with Commander Shore.  Everyone else was off island at the moment due to callouts and other needs.    

Gordon always loved the opportunity to explore the ocean’s depths.  Not only was it beautiful, but he always found something new or unexpected.  Sam’s mission needed everything that Gordon had.

Gordon knew that Commander Shore knew about International Rescue, but no one else in Marineville did, not even Atlanta.  He felt a little guilty that he couldn’t tell his friends what he really did in the ‘family business’, but such was life, and they never gave him a hard time over it.  This mission would cross that line.

“Father, I know we can trust Commander Shore and the Stingray crew, but are you really okay with them knowing that I am part of International Rescue?  I could just as easily fly out there in Tracy 1.”

“Sam has assured me that they will keep quiet about it.”  Gordon grinned and shook his head.  

“Oh, I know they will.  That’s not my concern.  We’ve done a great job with secrecy here, because we need it…but…we’re going to tell 4 more people just to play a joke on Troy?  I mean, I love a good joke, but I can just mess with his bunk instead.”

“The only decision that you need to make is about the exploration opportunity with the WASP’s.  You’ll be back in your old uniform and have to deal with their new hydrofoil.”

“You’re worried that it’ll bring up old memories.”  Gordon admitted to himself that it worried him a little too.  The last time he was on a hydrofoil his military career ended.

“My understanding is that you’ll mostly be on Stingray. The hydrofoil crew will remain above water for most things, but Sam needs someone with experience with both.”  Jeff watched his son draw in a deep breath.  

“When does he need his answer?”  He needed to think about it.  While he loved any opportunity to explore the ocean’s depths, he was not a fan of hydrofoils.  

“Not right this minute, but soon.  I think he needs the mission to take off in a few days.”

“Okay, give me a few hours to think about it please.  I’ll give you my answer by dinner time.”

“Okay son, I’m here if you need to talk.”

—

Gordon went up to his room and grabbed a box and garment bag from the back of his closet.  The last time he wore his uniform, he was so hopeful.  His military career had gone really well, and he was happy to be considered for the research and development crew.  The hydrofoil was supposed to be a great piece of military innovation.  Years ahead of any other craft on the sea, but it wasn’t.  Corners were cut, lives were lost…lives completely changed…all because the inventor got impatient.

The parts needed to finish construction were ordered and in the process of being built, but no matter how much pressure the inventor put on them, the construction of the vessel simply took time.  He wanted to impress the military, and deliver a great ship, ahead of schedule.  In the end, his ambitions changed many lives and landed him in jail.

Gordon wasn’t sure how to feel.  He would be back in Marineville as Lieutenant Tracy and back in his old uniform.  He opened the garment bag and ran his hands across the material.  Moments later, he found himself dressed in his old WASP uniform, and he stood in front of his floor length mirror.  He put his hat on and looked at his reflection.

Gordon felt…okay…he felt okay.  No fear…no anxiety…no nagging, bad memories.  Decision made.  He put his uniform back into the bag to be laundered and went down to the lounge to tell his father.

–

Jeff wasn’t sure what to expect from Gordon.  He knew that he loved his time with the WASP’s… before the accident.  They never discussed his feelings about his discharge or even if he wanted to leave.  Once he was fully healed, he jumped into International Rescue with the rest of his brothers.  Thunderbird 4 meant that he could still be in his beloved water, and he could help make a difference in the world.  Jeff needed to give him his space to make his decision.  If he wanted to talk, he would.

He hadn’t expected Gordon to come to the lounge so soon.  Gordon had something very familiar in his hands.

“Father.”

“Yes Gordon.”

“I need to have my old uniform cleaned before I head to Marineville.”

“You want to go?  You’re sure about this?”

“Yes, and I’m sure.  If International Rescue hadn’t come into my life, I would have fought my discharge.  It’ll be nice to be back on Stingray.”  Jeff smiled.

“So long as you come back.”  Jeff joked.  

“My life is here now.  You don’t need to worry about that.”

“You know that I’ll support you, no matter what, right?  If you find that you want to return to the WASP’s, that’s okay.”

“Thanks for the support, but I’ll be back.  Do you mind if I take the plane to have this cleaned?”

“Sure son.  I’ll call Commander Shore and let him know to expect you.”

–

“I promise to keep an eye on him, Jeff.”

“I’m not worried about Gordon.  I left the decision to him, and he’s made it.  He’s currently on his way to have his old uniform cleaned.”

“Still fits?”

“I assume so.”  Jeff didn’t know how to express to his old friend that he was nervous about this mission.  

“What is it Jeff?”  Sam saw it on his face.  There was something that he needed to say.  “Just say the words.  It’s okay.  Better to get it off of your chest now.”  He watched his old friend take a deep breath.

“I’m worried about him being on one of those hydrofoils again.  I don’t know who designed it or anything about it.  If he gets hurt on one again, I’m not sure he will pull through.”  Sam sent him a file.

“I know it’s a new hydrofoil, but the team that made this one is ours.  No private sector stuff.  No cut corners.  The timelines were realistic and unrushed.  Also, he won’t really be on it, just working with her crew.  No speed tests or anything like before.  He will mainly be on Stingray or up with me in the tower.”  That made Jeff feel much better.  He started to read over the file that Sam sent him.  

“Thank you Sam.  When do you need him?”

“Will 3 days work?”

“That should be fine.  I’ll let Gordon know.”

“Thanks Jeff, I really appreciate this.”

–

“Troy, gather Atlanta and your crew and come meet me in my office.”  About 15 minutes later, they were all front and center.

“Phones, close the door please.”  Commander Shore started.  “What will be said in the next few minutes must remain confidential.  You are not allowed to repeat any of this to anyone.”  They all nodded their heads.  “Good.  A member of International Rescue will join us for this mission.  This is a very big personal favor to me and the WASP’s.  I expect your best behavior.  Do you understand?”  They each nodded their heads ‘yes’.  

“What aren’t you telling us, sir?” Troy asked.  He saw something on his commander’s face, but he couldn’t make it out.  

“You’ll see, but I mean it Troy.  Especially you, best behavior.  Now, go to the tower. He should be here soon.”  Troy was confused, but he knew better than to push right now.

An hour later, Commander Shore cleared the tower, with the exception of Atlanta, Troy, Phones, and Marina.  

“Thunderbird 4 is on approach father.”  Commander Shore checked his watch.  

“Right on schedule.”  He expected nothing less from one of Jeff’s boys.  

“Thunderbird 4, requesting entry to Marineville.”  Atlanta knew that voice, but it had been a very long time since she had heard it over any radio.  Troy’s mouth hit the floor.  

“I’ve got this Atlanta.”  He took her place at the microphone.  “Lieutenant Tracy, permission granted.  I trust you remember your way to Stingray’s pen?”

“Yes sir.  PWOR.”  Atlanta smiled, Marina giggled, and Phones elbowed Troy.

“Go grab our guest team.” Commander Shore said to them as he turned around to face his crew.  

“He’s Thunderbird 4?!?!”  Troy managed to blurt out.  

“Yes, now go and remember to behave.  His father and I go way back.”  

Phones grabbed Troy by the shoulders and left the room with Atlanta and Marina.  Commander Shore laughed.  Jeff Tracy may or may not have received a video file simply named ‘Worth It’ a few minutes later. 

[miyanaxxi]

The Coyote Is A Wolf's Prey, After All - Opening

Hi there. I've not had the motivation to write this, but it's been an idea for a few months. Someone asked me for Corvus angst and this is purely Corvus angst. Eventually.

"The Six Horns have called them Shadowbeasts." Kazi translated, watching Amaya's hands carefully. "Creatures infected by the Sunforge, elves included." Their ears twitched down.

Amaya cast them a gentle glance. She knew they had lost a friend to the Corruption early on; Femi had been one of the first victims. Once she was sure they were okay enough to keep going, she continued signing.

"Most of them are deep within the heart of Lux Aurea, and their strength varies on how long they've been corrupted and their proximity to the Blackened Orb." Amaya's eyes roved over the people in the master tent, human soldier and Sunfire warrior alike.

"I will take a party at sundown to investigate the Shadowbeasts' habits." General Solar declared, looking at Kazi to translate to Amaya. She was of rather short stature - at least compared to Janai and Kazi - but made up for it in strength. Amaya and Gren had both observed the Six Horns Generals overtime, and came to learn that this albino Sunfire woman was all core muscle and speed. She had a certain arch to her back and her nose was slightly crooked, apparently from an incident when she was a trainee. "I would prefer three quarters of them to be human soldiers, if you can spare them to me?"

Kazi paused mid-sign, but quickly finished when Amaya nudged them. The general blinked in surprise. That was new. "You want human soldiers with you? Why?"

Solar cracked her neck and shrugged. "I want them to see what their filthy selfishness has led to." Amaya didn't need a translation; she could see Solar's bright blue eyes narrow and the way her teeth lingered over her bottom lip both times she hissed the letter "F".

Amaya closed her eyes, thought, then nodded. Solar bowed her head, a simple way to convey "thank you" commonly used in the army. Amaya may have been a human, but an ally military figure was to show respect despite race. Janai had made that clear.

"I volunteer."

Heads whipped around for the unfamiliar voice. Towards the back, Corvus stood next to a woman taller than him. Her black hair was done in tight braids save for her long fringe boasting four dreadlocks; two weaving around the sides of her head and two criss-crossing over her scalp to meet in a ponytail at the back. She had heavy eyeliner and sirenlike hazel eyes that complimented her full lips.

"My brother and I will go with you." She flicked her head up. Solar hesitated, but hummed in acceptance anyway.

Corvus shifted nervously beside her. "Can I-" he grabbed her wrist when everyone had turned their attention back to Amaya. "Come here." He pulled her out of the tent and into the sunlight. "I don't want you volunteering to go into a place of death!" He whispered urgently.

"Well, I volunteered you too." She tilted her head and raised a thick brow, the purple beads of her braids jangling as her hair fell over her shoulder.

"I don't care. I'm willing to go into Lux Aurea and reclaim it, but I don't want you to." Corvus sighed at her crestfallen expression. "I'm not saying you don't care or-or don't want to help, Coyote, I know you do. Just...you don't know Lux Aurea."

Coyote, for a second, mulled it over. Then she burst out laughing, catching the attention of a handful of Sunfire elves. "You're my little brother, Crow. I'm supposed to criticise your life decisions, not the other way around." She clapped him on the shoulder, her sharp nails digging into the thin pad he wore over it. She skipped off into the camp, throwing a toothy grin at him.

Corvus picked at his nails. He loved his sister, both of his older sisters, but Coyote just wasn't ready for this. She fought with a lance in the Crownguard, she wasn't in the Standing Battalion or any of the Six Sunfire Armies. He'd been into Lux Aurea three times before, just not under Solar. He'd have to try and talk the albino general out of letting Coyote come. If that was possible.

[the-dimensionals]

Drabble: Icarus' Soil

Deep in the Witches' association lab, someone was occupying the spot. The lab-- equipped with alchemy equipment, a microscope or two, three separate cauldrons, furnaces among other equipments, had been occupied by a woman-- the head witch of flames of the association was hard at work doing R&D for a potion she's been working on for hours.

"...The radiant fertilizer. It's properties can heat the soil's temperature to a degree to simulate that of lava...."

The witch of flames-- a fae with eyes as red as rubies, had mulled over a bit whilst examining her research on the Radiant Fertilizer. On one of the flasks was a flower, one which the witch looked at as she was calculating what her next attempt will require. It had been 6 times that she tried making the thing, but wit all these attempts, she hasn't stopped.

Another hour passed before she decided on what she should do next.

"...Alright, attempt #7... This time the I should be adding 10% more fire magic to it."

But before she could begin, the knocking on the lab's door echoed the room. The knocking was in a rhythm the witch of flames knew. With a hint of slight annoyance in her sigh, the witch spoke up.

"Come on in, Isabelle." The witch raised her voice to the direction of which the knocking came from.

The one who knocked was another witch named Isabelle, the Witch of Light, clad in white and gold, with a tome at hand.

"I had a hunch you were in the laboratory again, Aithne." Isabelle's spoke, the ends of her lips curled to form a small smile on her face as she walked up closer to the flame Witch: Aithne as she observed the experiment from a safe distance.

"You're still at trying to recreate Icarus' Soil, are you?" Isabelle asked, already having her tome placed on the nearest table. "It's not often for you to skip making your own morning beverage, even if you had some work ahead of you."

Aithne was silent for a second upon checking the time. Eyes widened slightly upon noticing the time. "Ah...Right, sorry."

"There's no need to apologize..." The witch of light took notice of that slight reaction to the time, unsure whether or not the other was really enjoying her time doing experiments, or that the other was overworking herself.

"The others are just a little bit concerned about your wellbeing, me included. I know you're an elf, but even you have to feeling a bit thirsty or hungry by now, do you not?"

"I know, Isabelle..." Aithne turned to look at the flower she was taking care of. "I've just been trying so hard to try and recreate the Radiant Fertilizer these last few days. It's just that the Solae Roseas requires that fertilizer and so far rarely anyone has managed to recreate the fertilizer's properties."

"Solae Rosea." Isabelle repeated as she looked at the flower infront of them. The witch of light's took a few steps towards it, observing the flower's radiance. "That's the flower you wanted to grow in your own garden, right?"

"That's right," Aithne responded. her hand gently caressing the pedals of the glower. "It was one of my mother's personal favorite. The person she got the fertilizer from had to stop selling Icarus' Soil due to the cost. It's a rare flower few managed to grow. The price of the soil and flower itself easily can go up to a million in credit. And since it's my mother's favorite flower, the fact that I have this flower made me want to try and recreate the fertilizer so I can help her grow hers back again, while also growing my own collection of these flowers."

"One million credits?" Isabelle repeated in surprise. "N-no wonder there was a massive surge in cost for these fire-immunity potions. Solae Rosaes are the only ones with such magical properties."

"Mhm," Aithne nodded in agreeance to that comment. "That is also why I want to grow these flowers. The fire-immunity potions are prohibitively expensive and quite frankly I feel they're not worth the price in the current market. If I can recreate the potion, I can not only challenge those who extort their buyers, but also get a good income so I can help my mother in restarting her garden."

"Ahah-- and there's the kind of reason that you're known for in the association! You love to stick it to the big wigs out there, don't you?" Isabelle couldn't help but let out a giggle at that. "But while I fully support your endeavor, from the looks of it you're going to be preoccupied with that for a while."

"That's right," Aithne nodded, stretching a little bit, feeling her some of her muscles start to ache. "This will be a long endeavor and it won't finish by itself, even if does make me work to the point where I am starting to feel my age..."

"Heh--" Isabelle chuckled as she gently placed a hand on the flame witch's shoulder. "Aithie, you should really take care of yourself a bit better. You're still a young elven adult and you have a life outside of this. And besides, not a lot of the newer members of the association knows you well. So how about you take a small break, get something to drink before continuing with your project? You've been at this for 3 hours today after all."

"...I suppose you make a fair point." The witch of fire responded, a soft smile slowly started to form on her lips. "Maybe a rested mind might help me with this project." Aithne did wonder one thing as she was setting her work to the side, labeling it with a simple [do not touch/W.I.P project run by the flame witch] before asking.

"Isabelle--" Aithne started speaking. "Once my break is finished, do you have some time to spare in aiding me? I may have knowledge on fire magic, but your are efficient with light magic. Perhaps if we combine our knowledge that we might make a breakthrough in this project?"

"I'll have to look through my schedule for a bit, but I think I have some time in the evening-- if you're fine with that."

"That'll be fine with me. Now then. Let's have our-- as we would call it, a beverage break.,"

[bloodandthestars]

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄.

priest!suguru geto x fem!reader. a part of JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series.

tw: talks on religion, smoking :: edit: UPDATED

wc: 2k :: masterlist :: previous part

Sunday went as smoothly as he’d mull over in his head. The sermon was made to be a continuation of the previous one: where to find strength through God in the path of life’s obstacles. With Suguru moving voice and emphasis, the communion consumed and praised Him to be.

Wednesday rolled around, and it was a night of Bible study but more importantly, the potluck everyone was waiting for. Mrs. Kaskai and a few other church women set the picnic tables outside in the courtyard, her husband getting the lights to work around wooding postings. Mr. Weren brought propane for the grill, excited to be cooking ribs he had marinating in the church’s kitchen for a week now. With the Father’s help, they worked together as one to make it all happen for their community.

Suguru clicks a spoon to his glass to gather everyone’s attention. It was once simple click and heads turned without a second wasted. Children were hushed to soft murmurs and babbles, and all eyes were on him. Like they always were. And as always, he presented himself with a smile.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that the food we have here today isn’t like any other. Practically have a few five start chefs among us.” The crowd laughs heartily.

“The effort is seen and worth appreciating, especially with the succession of the bake sale!” Claps and cheers could be heard all around, including the father’s. They simmer down for him to continue. “It’s worth the celebration, so here we are, to bless and be blessed. Let us bow our heads.”

Small groups crowed around the food tables to get their pieces. As Suguru gives a nod of gratitude for Mr. Everest putting some on his place, he glances down to the array of foods. Each with their own signed cards of what was made and by who. His eyes glance over the varied names. His steps slow as they narrow in concentration, wanting to be sure he was seeing things correctly. A dark chocolate cake sat in front of him, with your name signed at the bottom. Did you come through here already? How come he didn’t see you?

He glances around, searching for your face in the crowd. When he came up empty-handed, the priest moves to allow the line to flow again.

The night went on as lively as ever, talking with each smiling patron after the next. He’d smile back, laugh with their jokes, but feel as though he was much farther from everyone than he really was. His words were half-hearted at best. Every now and then his glance takes him outward, looking to his surroundings. After the third or maybe fourth glance around, he eyes figure sitting on top of the hood of a car. A figure he’d recognize from his distracting thoughts.

“Are you alright, Pastor?”

He nods, blinking himself back into conversation with an older woman and her daughter. “Yes, my apologies.”

Those eyes wonder about again after the reassurance was made. Suguru knew the real answer to that question, and the one thing he could do to fix it.

The church parking lot only had about four street lights. You were under one of them, sitting atop your car, with a scent that he knew as clear as day. He shouldn’t approach you. If you looked like you wanted to be left alone, the result would have been just that. But his dress shoes keep their path, walking in your direction. Your head turns when you seemed to notice him approaching. Eyes glance at him up and down, he surely wasn’t mistaken on that. “Evening, Father.”

He greets you back with a mention of your name. Glancing away, he catches how you has a good view of everyone in the courtyard. Looking back, he asks. “Not one for these kinds of things?”

You blow out smoke to the side with a scrunch of your lips. “Not particularly.”

“May I ask why?”

Your smile feels like fingers crawling up his back. “Aren’t you off the clock, Father? No need to try and pull a confession.”

A warmth spreads on his cheeks, causing him to look away with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m only teasing you.”

What you pull from your pocket causes Suguru’s mouth to dry. A pack of cigarettes with a slight dent at the top. You pop open the carton, pulling out a stick. You look to the pastor, who watches your hands until he catches your gaze on him. It’s like you’re getting even worse for him to ignore— trading one slight for another.

He nods his head in your direction and you give him the pack. He hears the flicker of a lighter as he puts a cigarette on the trim oh his mouth. It parts, about to ask you for the light, until he feels something grab his shirt. Suguru looks up to catch the end of your cigarette with yours. Your eyes focus on making sure his lights, while his eyes can’t seem to turn away from your face. Not when you were so, so close. His heart picks up in light patters, hoping— praying, it was masked in his breathing.

He could only find himself to relax just as you finished lighting. You pull your head back, hand holding your sitting firm up from behind. Suguru leans his weight against the car with his back to you, entirely quiet.

There he was swirling in a spiral of water that never seemed to end. Why did you do that? The lighter was right there. He was just on the brink of being swallowed whole in your proximity. If only you ate a bit more.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips with shaky hand, blowing smoke off to the side. The silence remained so, but surprisingly to him, his shoulders begin to slack. His exhales become heavier as they roll out every stress of just that week. All in the intimate quiet you two shared.

“I suppose this was a much needed break.” He speaks up behind another inhale. You let your cigarette hang off your mouth as you glance to him. “Even you need breaks from all that religious zeal, Father?”

You were teasing him, he caught on it this time. Suguru laughs quietly, letting smoke follow after. "Of course I need a break," He replied. "As the head of this community, I feel responsible for everyone's well-being. Sometimes it's difficult to look after so many people at once.”

You both took a drag from your cigarettes. Your eyes look to the sky, watching as your smoke dissipates. Once again, you felt yourself be honest on holy ground. “I can’t imagine having to listen to them. Trying to solve every problem they have with a book older than the earth itself.”

Suguru didn’t know if he was supposed to take offense or not. But you weren’t exactly wrong. He knew how the people in the congregation operate. “People don't realize how much they project onto these ancient scriptures," Geto replied, nodding his head in agreement. "They don't consider the context of when they were written and how it may apply to their own situation."

He took another deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke. You slight your head in agreement. "Some people love to rely on something outside of themselves to tell them how to feel and how to live, I suppose."

What was that that felt like a wound in his chest? Pride?

“You don’t exactly sound like a believer.” He huffs.

“Neither do you.”

Something twists in his stomach. The same feeling of having your hand caught in the cookie jar as a child. He lashed his head to you, you and your calm expression that gives him even more whiplash. You shrug, pulling the tobacco tab from your lips. “Promise,” You finger traces an X over your chest. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Suguru catches your witty smile. Another tease, at least he had hoped with the hard swallow down his throat. Still, you did manage to get an amused exhale out of him.

“I…” He begins, only for his eyes to fall to the ground. His words change. “I just see things a bit differently than some of them.”

“Well?”

The pastor takes a quick inhale. "I believe a priest should listen to the scripture and offer guidance where needed, but also try to instill their own values and morals into the teachings."

You arch your brow. “That just seems…normal.”

He took the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in one hand as he leaned his back against the car further. "Some members think that's a blasphemous way of looking at it," he added. "That I'm perverting their precious lessons."

He laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke.

"I say, what's so blasphemous about using your own brain?"

Your brows quirk together, turning your head to the lively scene ahead of you both. “I didn’t know there were some in your congregation that find you that way.”

"I've learned a lot about my own congregation," He explained. "The members who are devout to the scripture are very sensitive to my every action. Any perceived flaw is bound to become a rumor in these circles."

Suguru paused, taking another drag. "Thankfully, I've managed to build up a good reputation within this community."

He glances over at you, eyes doing a once over before speaking. “To which you seem all the more distant from.”

You scoff, a cloud of smoke harshly pushed onto the air. You take your eyes back to the lively scene. The children playing in the grass, the sun setting behind the fumes of a grill. Chatter and booming laughter. It all seemed perfectly cut out for a holiday card. “I’m doing all this for my mother.” You murmur. “And I know when I don’t belong somewhere.”

He looks back to the ground. Those words sounded like ones that were temporary. He hoped not but the idea of you being here permanently didn’t seem too right.

A nudge of his neatly dressed shoulder snaps him out of his thoughts. His head bounces up to look at you. You were already half way down your cigarette when you talk. “Speaking of…you should go back.”

Maybe those words were his saving grace. A holy light appearing in the confusing darkness, perhaps a blessed creature creating a path to redemption. A way for his thoughts to distance themselves from your consumption. Perhaps your words were a moment of actual divine intervention.

"I think I'll stay with you." He states, almost confidently. “I…enjoy your company.”

The ends of your lips quirk up. Your hand pats a spot next to you on the hood of the car. Suguru looks between before obliging. Once he gets himself situated, he sees the view that she has of the social event. The congregation was in bursts of small groups. There was one person however, going from one group to the next with a slight of urgency. That group looks between each other, one straying off to act like the first— questioning and questioning. Suguru only let out a sigh, not a doubt in his mind what they were looking for.

You notice, turning your head to look at him. Huffing, you throw your finished cigarette on the gravel. He reluctantly goes to stand, running a hand through his hair as your hand pulls another cigarette. You place it at your lips. “Seems that’s your-“

That evening air beginning to settle in seemed long forgotten. You’re frozen in place as you’re met with his cigarette lighting the end of yours. His hands were placed on either side of you on the sleek hood. Suguru stood still between your legs to ensure that it would light— that he wouldn’t throw up his own heart. He simply just— moved. Jumped at the opportunity when it was clear for him. His tab was much shorter than when yours in the beginning of your smoke session, making your faces all the more closer. He could feel your breath tickle his face, just as still as he was. His eyes slowly look up to yours, that have been staring at him this whole time. The look within them changes. One that makes his throat too dry to speak.

“Careful there, Eve.”

tags: @getousrep

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: implied trafficking references, implied violence, implied death references, threats, implied abuse references, abduction references, separation from family/loss of family

AO3 link

Chapter 56 - Nina

Even after mulling on her words for a few days and giving herself the time to assume that some smaller details may be over exaggerated or entirely fabricated, Nina was still feeling pretty sure that the rumours Siobhan had heard were complete and utter nonsense. Squallers flying, she’d said, and Tidemakers turning to mist? Please. Whatever this drug was, Siobhan had no name for it from whatever hearsay she’d picked up on, and however the story was being spun, this was not the truth. It couldn’t be.

Though the disbelief hadn’t stopped Nina from asking around, had it? 

Her contacts in Ketterdam weren’t extensive but they could be considered reasonable enough for her purposes; she was trying to start a conversation to find out whether anyone knew the whereabouts of Wylan’s friend Anya, anyway, so she reasoned that if she was already talking she might as well bring the rumours into it too. And people had heard of it, she started to realise. Jurda parem, they were calling it. She supposed it made sense if it had some link to jurda, the little blossoms were stimulants and to Nina’s understanding it sounded like this - obviously fictional, she promised herself - drug was as well, but it was that second word that bothered her. Parem. A Shu word, she knew. Without pity.

There was nothing solid anyone could really give her, so it was probably just some melodrama that would blow over within the month, but for some reason Nina couldn’t shake it. 

The hunt for Anya had been less fruitful. Anyone who had heard of her - which so far was only one Fabrikator from the other side of town, though there was a Squaller at another house on West Stave who’d said he knew someone in the Geldin District who might be able to find out more - could only tell her that they’d heard nothing of the girl since her indenture to Councilman Van Eck came to a somewhat seemingly abrupt end. That was hardly unusual around here; Nina doubted anyone would think twice about it. 

Nina could have just waited a few days to see if the Squaller’s contact managed to find anything for her, but she desperately wanted to be able to give Wylan news - even just of progress in searching, if not anything concrete. She thought he needed to hear something good. 

“The staff are mostly too well paid to bribe,” said Inej, speaking Suli, as the pair walked down East Stave together, “But I managed to gather a little gossip,”

It had been three days since the de Baal job, and the sun had briefly returned to Ketterdam in between the recent rain showers but the air was still cold and Nina was wrapped snugly into her coat. Inej usually, and to a casual onlooker would have done today, seemed resistant to the weather, but more than once on this walk so far she’d tugged on her long sleeves to pull them over her palms. Nina wasn’t sure if she was cold or if something was on her mind. She wondered if she should ask, but she didn’t want to pry. 

The ground was still wet and the cobblestones were slippery underfoot as they strolled, but Nina had been watching Inej with close attention for the past ten minutes and was yet to see her slip or struggle with her injured knee. Good. Inej had neglected to mention it since a few nights ago, the night of her birthday, when she broke into Nina’s room at the White Rose in tears. Nina still wasn’t sure if she’d seen anything in particular when she’d been scoping out the WIllow Switch, or if it was all just too much for her to keep it under wraps any longer. Hopefully, after what Nina had told her that night, Inej wouldn’t feel like she had to keep it buried anymore; if she wanted - needed - to talk, Nina would always be there. 

“Apparently there was quite a shouting match the day she left,”

Nina raised an eyebrow. 

She’d asked Inej after her fruitless initial attempt at tracking Anya down, if she could try to find out anything about Van Eck sending her away, only if she had time and only as soon as she had a chance. Nina glanced at her watch - it had been about ten hours. 

“All I could gather from the servants was that she and Van Eck were briefly alone, and then she ran out in the main hallway shouting for Wylan. They said that she tried to attack Van Eck and the guards had to pin her down,”

“She attacked him?”

“Well,” Inej shrugged, “The servants are also spreading that the reason Wylan left was because he got caught in a sweaty romp with one of his tutors, so I’d probably take their words with a pinch of salt,”

Still, Nina thought, that seems like a development. Nothing that happened in that house ever seemed to quite make sense. 

“Do you think…?” Nina hesitated, and glanced at Inej to see that she was staring up at her, patient but expectant, “He wouldn’t have… killed her, would he?”

Inej paused for a moment, her head cocked slightly to one side as she considered. They had both stopped walking for this moment, and Nina found herself rubbing the soft lining of her coat between her thumb and forefinger as she watched Inej’s mind turn. Inej had pulled her sleeve right up over her palm. 

“No,” she said, decisively, shaking her head, “No, I don’t think he would have. Where’s the money in that?”

Inej turned to make another step and Nina made to follow her, again trying to study the younger girl’s gate until she looked up and - catching Nina off guard - asked lightly: 

“Did you know that Elodie has ten siblings?”

Nina blinked. 

“Really?”

“Well, eight living siblings; five older, three younger. She was telling Jeluna about them,”

Nina frowned, nodding slowly. She wasn’t sure where Inej was going with this. 

“She’s never met the youngest, her mother was pregnant when she came to Ketterdam,”

Eleven children. Saints, some women were bloody stronger than Nina was. 

“I thought…” her voice drifted, thinking of what she had told Inej at the Slat when they’d spoken quietly about Elodie before. 

“Her parents?”

Nina nodded. 

“I think so. The way she talks about it all, at least, makes me think you were right. It sounds like she all but raised her younger sisters alone; a six year old and a one year old. They… they won’t remember her, will they?”

What was she trying to get at, here? Nina tucked her thumb inside her palm and began to work it against her skin in comforting, repetitive circles. Her earliest memories were all at the Little Palace in Os Alta; groups of small school children, raised by teachers and nurses and in a way each other, peering on tiptoe through the windows of the Palace to see the older Grisha rushing about below on their important missions. She remembered her early lessons, with Healers and Heartrenders alike in their little chairs where some were still so small their feet didn’t touch the ground. She remembered, at least for the most part though maybe the finer details would be lost on her, the dormitory she’d lived in before she was old enough to move into a double room, split with one other student when twelve and deemed an inappropriate age to make them stay with the tiniest of the others, or to have to change in the space shared with so many. She remembered the Civil War, the evacuation of the school to Keramzin, trying to calm the littlest ones from crying even as she had wanted to simply give in and start sobbing herself. She remembered the Darkling’s army finding them, and damn everything straight to hell if she didn’t remember the Shadow Fold. She remembered having her own bed chambers upon her return, and wondering whether she’d reached the age the school deemed proper for it or if there were simply less Grisha than rooms left over. 

But Nina didn’t remember the arms that had held her before she could walk. She didn’t remember who had fed her before she sat in a dining hall with dozens of other children. She didn’t remember who dressed her before she learned how to herself, or who gave her the clothes she had travelled in the whole journey to Os Alta. The journey, at least to her faded recollection and a little child’s mind, had been incomprehensibly long, and she had spent it - though this part she no longer remembers very clearly - sat on the bench of a carriage with her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them as she glared over the top of her knees at the man and woman in the fancy, colourful coats. In her tiny fist she had clutched a handkerchief, someone from wherever she had come from must have given it to her, and with all her minuscule might she tried to keep it safe and secret. But as soon as she arrived at the Little Palace she was led to a small, strange looking room, given a pile of clean clothes, and told to change. She didn’t have a kefta yet, of course, and the children didn’t exactly have a uniform - though there were certain rules expected of them - but they were not allowed to keep the clothes they had arrived in. 

“It’s a plague precaution,” the woman in the pretty coat had told her, kneeling down so they were closer to the same height, “We just have to be safe, you understand that don’t you?”

Nina didn’t remember this by now. She didn’t remember nodding at the woman slowly, even though she didn’t really know what that meant. It sounded scary. Everything was scary today. 

“And look at these new clothes,” she’d smiled, holding up a blouse that was a crisper white than the one Nina wore beneath her cardigan, clearly much newer, “Aren’t they pretty?”

If Nina really searched her mind, she could bring to the surface some vague snippets of that day. She could remember that her cardigan was a thin, woollen thing, of comfy navy blue. When she took it off she did her best to fold it in front of her to lay it on the table, though it probably looked a mess, and she could remember the golden embroidered crest on the too-small-to-put-anything-in breast pocket. A school uniform, then? But surely Nina had been too small for that, yet? What else could it have been? 

She could remember, as well, the embroidered black stitches on the inner tag of the cardigan, that matched the tag of her blouse and skirt and the label inside her shoes; the letters of her name in neat, threaded lines. But she couldn’t remember who had sewn them. 

She’d washed all over and then dressed in the clothes that the woman with the pretty coat had left for her, and had then been walked hand-in-hand through the doorway to an entirely new world. That was when they found that she was still clutching her little handkerchief, refusing to give it up. She might have cried, she didn’t remember by now, but plague precautions were plague precautions, Nina needed to be a big strong girl now, and her tears were not appropriate for a future soldier.

“You are special, Nina,” someone had told her - the woman with the pretty coat? Someone different, in a different coloured coat? There were so many of them, all so tall and strong and busy. Nina had never felt smaller, “You are part of the Second Army, now. You are forever part of something bigger than yourself. Isn’t that special? Isn’t that exciting?”

Nina smiled, nodded, let them take her hand and lead her on. She trained and studied and dedicated her entire life to Ravka, to her home, to the country that would love her forever, to the Second Army of which she would now forever be one small cog in the grand machine. She was Grisha, she was special, she was a soldier of the Second Army. That meant something.

They took the handkerchief and burned it, along with the clothes that someone had embroidered for her. Someone for whom Nina had not even done the courtesy of a memory. 

“I suppose so,” she said quietly, without looking at Inej. 

It wasn’t like she hadn’t been happy at the Little Palace. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to be part of the Second Army. But for whatever reason this had been bothering Nina lately. The lack of the Before. 

“My little cousins will have forgotten me, won’t they?”

Oh. That was where she was going with this. 

Nina finally turned to see Inej, who was staring fervently ahead in what looked like an effort not to drop her gaze down and start studying her boots. She couldn’t really say anything. She just slipped her hand around Inej’s and squeezed it tightly. What could she say?

[heartbreak-sandwich]

The Cumpetition - Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler ~ Finished Oneshot ❤️‍🔥NSFW

Masterlist 💕

A/N: I wrote this fic a year or so ago for a fanfiction themed party, and the directions were to include some cringe phrases, so there are some silly words in this one, but it's not bad to the point of unenjoyable. The timeline is extremely skewed, and it's obviously kind of au - supposed to be after Steve has graduated and all characters are assumed over 18! CW: virgin!Eddie, Stancy, house party, underage drinking, and SMUT SMUT SMUT. Thank you so much for reading, and I'm always happy with any feedback/comments you may have, but please know this one was just for fun. 😅

NSFW BELOW THE CUT, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, PLEASE ✨

“I don’t know, Nance,” Steve said, leaning up against the locker beside Nancy’s as she rummaged through her books. “He’s really not who I thought he was. You’ll see if you just let him come to the party. Give him a chance.” Nancy rolled her eyes at his pleading. For the last week, all anyone has heard from Steve is how misunderstood and potentially amazing Eddie Munson is. After his assistance in keeping The Party alive through the last encounter with the Upside Down, Eddie was a hero in Steve’s eyes.

“This is his third senior year, Steve,” Nancy said with an exasperated sigh. “He’s hardly as sharp as you make him sound. Plus, you’ve seen the way he acts at school. This isn’t his kind of scene.”

“How do you know what his kind of scene is, anyway?” Steve asked, a smug smirk forming in the right corner of his mouth. He was teasing her again about the previous weekend. She tried to shake the image of a drunken Nancy being rescued from the bedroom eyes of Tommy Hagan at a house party, whisked away on a motorcycle and half-carried to her front door. She had no memory of how she had gotten home that night, but apparently Eddie had filled Steve in after he dropped her off at home, telling him Nancy was perfectly safe and untouched.

“Fine,” Nancy said firmly. “Invite him.” She closed her locker and turned to face Steve. “But he can’t bring any of his friends, and he can’t sell drugs at my house.”

“Can he give them away for free?” Steve received a harsh fist to the shoulder for his joke as he and Nancy turned to make their way down the hall and out of the school.

XXXX ONE HOUR LATER XXXX

“You want me to go to a party at Nancy Wheeler’s house?” Eddie let out a short, theatrical cackle. “You’re sending me into the belly of the beast. You know that, right?” he asked as he perched on the hood of Steve’s car. Eddie’s driveway wasn’t much of a driveway -- more like a flat expanse of dust in front of the double-wide trailer he and his uncle shared.

“Just trust me. It’s not as bad as you think it is,” Steve reassured, unfolding his arms and sitting next to Eddie on the hood. “Besides, I’ll be there. I’ll make sure no one gives you any shit, and we’ll have a good time.” Eddie’s eyes fixated on Steve’s as he mulled it over for a moment.

“As long as you’ll be there to protect me,” he replied sarcastically, an exaggerated pout on his lips. Steve pushed his famous hair back into place, running a hand all the way through the luscious pompadour, completely oblivious to the fact that Eddie’s intense gaze didn’t leave him for a second.

“Look, if it really sounds that horrible, then don’t come. Sorry I asked.” Steve pushed himself off the hood and made his way to the driver’s side door, his disappointment hanging heavy in the air like dense fog.

“Wait,” Eddie replied, jumping off the hood and taking a step closer to Steve. “If you really want me to come, I’ll be there,” he said, giving Steve’s left shoulder a clap. “Eight o’clock?”

“Eight o’clock,” Steve replied. “And don’t be early. Nancy’s folks would lose it if they knew she was having us all over on a school night.”

“Copy that, Harrington. See you later.”

Steve watched Eddie walk away toward his trailer, but not long enough for him to notice. He situated himself in his car and adjusted his rear view mirror to watch the rest of Eddie’s trek to the front door. He pushed the cassette tape into the slot in his car stereo and backed out of the driveway, bobbing his head to Dokken’s Into the Fire. Eddie was right: this is music.

XXXX 8:45 PM XXXX

Eddie slunk his way through the Wheelers’ living room, making himself small enough to squeeze in between groups of people who were all drinking, laughing, and talking loudly over the sound of Motley Crue’s Shout at the Devil. He was painfully aware of the sharp stares he was receiving from each person who recognized him amongst the crowd. Sighing to himself and accepting his outsider status, he dipped a solo cup into the punch bowl on the kitchen counter and sauntered toward the back door. 

“PURE FUEL!!!” An inebriated boy’s voice resounded over the music as Eddie crossed the threshold into the back yard. He spotted The Hair.

Steve noticed a change in the mob around him, everyone beginning to stare and point and whisper about the boy in the Dio vest wearing too many rings. Steve locked eyes with Eddie who raised his solo cup awkwardly in greeting.

“Steve!!” Robin snapped her fingers in front of Steve’s face, regaining his attention just long enough for him to excuse himself from their conversation. He made his way through the crowd as Eddie jumped down from the deck onto the lawn, completely ignoring the stairs next to him. Steve’s heart fluttered in his chest at the small act of rebelliousness.

“You came!” Steve didn’t try to hide his excitement at all. Realizing he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, he hastily stuffed them in his pockets and stood awkwardly, hoping Eddie wouldn’t notice his sudden lack of confidence.

“I said I’d come for you, Harrington. I am a man of my word,” Eddie proclaimed loudly, sticking out his now punch-red tongue in jest. “So! Where’s the good time you promised me?”

“Right this way,” Steve gestured to a free keg, a wide grin spread across his face.

The two boys sat on the grass in a corner of the yard by a keg and claimed it as their own, Eddie occasionally jumping up, sticking out his tongue, screeching, and giving himself devil horns with his hands so as to ward off anyone who dared try to sample their commandeered riches.

Nancy watched them from a distance. She couldn’t help but feel a little left out. Steve had been by her side constantly since they got back together, and all of a sudden, the only thing he cared about was integrating Eddie into his life.

XXXX 1:00 AM XXXX

As the last few people made their way out the door, Nancy closed and locked it behind them. The house was a disaster, but she would figure out how to handle that after school tomorrow. Her parents wouldn’t be home for another couple of days, and she wanted to spend some alone time with Steve now that everyone had cleared out. She hadn’t even spoken to him since the start of the party because he was too busy ogling Eddie Munson to pay her any attention.

Nancy closed the patio door behind her and instantly spotted Steve sitting by the pool, feet dangling in the water, taking a swig from a bottle of Jameson...and handing it over to Eddie who was doing the same. Nancy scoffed. She had held up her end of the bargain. She invited Munson to her party, but she didn’t promise to make friends or even talk to him. After being ignored all night, Nancy was beginning to boil over.

“Hey, Nance!” Steve waved her over, holding out the bottle to her. “Come sit!” He was obviously intoxicated, pieces of hair falling into his eyes and a goofy grin plastered on his face. She decided it was better not to fight, especially in front of someone as unpredictable as Eddie. Nancy unfolded her arms and walked over to the two boys, taking the bottle from Steve and gulping down enough whiskey to tolerate the impending conversation.

“Hi, Nancy,” Eddie said, watching her intently as she fearlessly swallowed her last mouthful of potent liquor and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

“Hi.” Nancy took a seat next to Steve, dipping her feet into the pool.

“It was nice of you to invite me,” Eddie said through a cheeky smile as he side eyed Steve.

“Like I had a choice,” she started. Remembering her decision to avoid a fight with Steve, she added, “Either way, I’m glad you came. Any friend of Steve’s is welcome here.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Eddie replied, taking a healthy swig from the bottle and passing it back to Steve.

The whiskey made its way down the line and back again several times as the trio bonded over conversations about school, Russian government secrets, teachers, friends, and overall life.

When the bottle was empty, Steve stood up and threw it against the fence behind them and cheered when it shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. Nancy and Eddie were happily warm with alcohol and echoed his victory shout. Steve hurled off his shirt and flexed in triumph, his drunken giggles permeating the quiet night.

Eddie jumped to his feet. He slipped out of his vest and folded it neatly, setting it down on the patio table. He shedded his own shirt and charged at Steve, tackling him to the ground with an “OOF!” as the air was forced out of him. They laughed hysterically as they rough housed on the ground until they were both out of breath. 

Nancy found herself staring at the two shirtless boys giggling and half-assed sparring on the ground -- flesh all a-mesh, and out of nowhere, she ached to be part of it.

“Steve! I think it’s time,” she said, giving him that look. Steve knew exactly what she meant, but he was having a great night, and he would feel awful asking Eddie to leave.

“What’s that mean?” Eddie teased sarcastically, poking Steve’s cheek a little too hard.

“If you’ve ever been with a girl, you know exactly what that means,” Steve replied, bumping his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“Oh, I have. Sort of. In a way.” Eddie stammered and shifted awkwardly, standing up and gathering his vest. He knew it was time to leave, and he didn’t want to have to explain that “sort of, in a way” meant he received a botched toothy blowjob in the back of his van from a girl he met at a concert and cried after he dropped her off at home.

Nancy’s new adventurous streak took hold of her. She quietly appeared next to Eddie and looked into his anxious eyes. Keeping eye contact, she gently freed his vest from his grasp and set it back down on the patio table. She took in the sight of him: his long, dark hair framing his face; his brown eyes wide with fear and a touch of curiosity; his height ultra-apparent now that they stood so close to each other; the faint trace of his abs outlined by the shadows of the night.

“Sort of, in a way, do you want to help Steve...take care of me tonight? It’s been a really long day, and maybe we can, you know, teach you some stuff.” Nancy’s gaze turned sultry as she closed the distance between them with every word. She shot a look at Steve who raised his eyebrows in surprise and finally shrugged. He never expected things to go this way, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t into it, no matter how weird he might feel tomorrow.

“Uh...Steve?” Eddie’s anxiety peaked as he stared at Steve in disbelief. Steve gave him a smirk and a nod and started toward the back door as Nancy pulled Eddie into a deep, slow, entrancing kiss. 

XXXX 10 MINUTES LATER XXXX

“You guys are sure you want to do this?” Eddie asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Look, man, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. But we’re going to, whether you stick around or not,” Steve replied, kicking his pants aside and removing his watch.

“Eddie.” Before he could respond, Nancy put her hands on his shoulders and turned him to face her. “It’s okay. Really,” she said with a sweet smile. Eddie returned the smile and let out a sigh as he shrugged. His innocence was like fuel to the hungry fire growing inside of Nancy.

She gently grabbed his hand and slowly raised it up to her face, grazing it ever so softly against her cheek and lips. Taking his pointer finger all the way into her mouth, she sucked the gaudy, silver ring until it came loose, moved up his finger with her lips and dropped behind her teeth as she unsheathed his digit from her oral caress. She smiled as she took the ring from between her teeth and handed it over her shoulder to Steve, who placed it lightly on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Don’t worry, Munson. It won’t be so serious,” Steve reassured. “We can make it a game or a competition or whatever. Give you something to focus on besides not cumming,” he joked.

“A CUMpetition!” Eddie exclaimed.

“Hey, that’s pretty good. CUMpetition,” Steve praised and giggled as Eddie smiled proudly at his newly invented word.

“Whoever cums first loses?” Eddie suggested. “What’s the wager?”

“Or whoever makes me cum the most wins,” Nancy chimed in, now sprawling out on the bed, completely unclothed. “And I’ll let the winner cum inside my mouth. Spitters are quitters.” The devious edge to her grin evoked total seriousness.

Both boys’ eyes widened as they realized they were still standing on either side of the bed in their underwear, fantasizing about the prize Nancy just offered them.

Nancy sighed and propped herself up on her hands and knees, arching her back and offering up her perfect, peachy asscheeks to Steve. “Steeeeeeeve,” she whined impatiently. “Please just do something! I’m already so wet.” she moved her hips from side to side, enticing Steve to touch her. He instantly complied, sliding his hands over and over her soft skin, up the arch of her back, down and around her asscheeks, and finally, dragging a finger up and down her glistening pussy lips.

“Mmmmhmmmmmm,” she drawled, her voice oozing with pleasure. “I can’t wait to see what you’re hiding in there, Eddie,” Nancy teased, pointing to Eddie’s obvious erection still contained in his briefs. She motioned for him to come closer as Steve continued to trace up and down her wetness, occasionally pausing to lick her nectar from his fingertips.

Eddie approached the edge of the bed so Nancy could reach him. She tucked her fingers into his waistband, sliding them side to side, feeling his hip bones beneath the warm flesh. Eddie shuddered at the feeling and let his head fall back as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to take in every sensation.

Nancy hooked her fingers into the elastic and slid Eddie’s briefs off, letting them fall lifelessly to the floor. She was shocked as his diametrically intimidating, velvety smooth, circumcised cock sprung upwards just an inch or two from her nose, all ten inches throbbing, the lustrous tip already dripping with pre cum.

“Oh...my god,” she murmured as she stared in awe at the size of the stately member before her. “I’ve never seen anyone this big before.”

“Is it...okay?” Eddie asked, suddenly feeling shy. He didn’t expect this reaction, but then again, he didn’t have much to compare to for expectations.

Nancy could only respond by nodding slowly, her mouth watering at the sight before her. She leaned forward and gave the crown of Eddie’s love gun a long, slow lick, her tongue flat against the smooth, hot cockflesh. Nancy finished her first taste and stared up into Eddie’s eyes, mouth still hanging open.

“So that’s what that’s supposed to feel like,” Eddie concluded with a grin, finally relaxing a bit.

And with that, Steve discarded his underwear and pushed his entire bare length into Nancy’s starving pussy with a slow, firm thrust.

Nancy’s mouth fell wide open as she let out a long, low moan. Moving forward with Steve’s thrust, she took Eddie completely into her mouth, licking back and forth up the underside of his shaft as she did so. Hearing him slowly deflate his lungs, she took that as a sign to keep going. She used the rhythm of Steve’s thrusts to let her mouth move over Eddie’s sleek, pulsating rod a few more times.

Upon discovering she could control the pace, Nancy moved herself back and forth on her hands and knees, feeling Steve’s perfect boyfriend dick glide over her G-spot every time while she sucked her cheeks in around Eddie’s massively robust joystick as it slipped down her throat and back up repeatedly, making her eyes water.

Everyone’s breathing became ragged and the room felt hotter, but nobody seemed to notice. Steve was surprised to look up from Nancy’s handiwork and meet Eddie’s gaze. Eddie had one hand gently grasping Nancy’s hair as a low moan escaped his lips, his eyes pleading with Steve to ramp up the pleasure.

Steve kept one hand on Nancy’s hip and pulled himself deeper inside her as he adjusted his stance, kneeling onto the bed behind her. He used his other hand to reach around the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him into a hot, needy kiss, their tongues doing a desperate dance-fight tango as they locked lips over and over and over again to the soundtrack of the trio of moans filling the space around them.

Nancy no longer cared about the mess in the house or making it to school tomorrow...or the next day, for that matter. All she wanted was more of this and more of them. And she knew now that the three of them would be particularly tight-knit comrades -- tighter than she could ever hope to be again after her new-found friendship with Eddie Munson.

[arkus-rhapsode]

So I know I’m a bit late on this, but I’ve been mulling this over for a bit and with the recent VA actor strike talk I kinda came to some realizations. So you probably have heard something about Charles Martinet, famed voice actor for Mario retired. Being replaced in the upcoming WarioWare/Mario Wonder games. Now there were a lot of people giving their thanks to a man who has been the voice of a gaming icon for generations a proper send off, but something had really got me thinking. Charles Martinet is a celebrated VA for his work in a Nintendo franchise. Nintendo the company that isn’t really known for vocal performances.

Nintendo is many things in the gaming industry, but something that you’ll notice that even in the modern era, there really aren’t that many games nintendo puts out with voice acting as a prominent feature. With games like Pikmin, Splatoon, Animal Crossing etc, all having “actors” there’s still a big use of nonsense words. Even Mario while there was voice acting in it still used very brief phrases and words. Or even some games that are still silent experiences like Pokemon.

Now there is a few exceptions to this in terms of Nintendo franchises, Fire Emblem has been a murderers row of talent of the VA industry for years. And while British actors aren’t as well known stateside, the Xenoblade games are fully voiced narrative games. Games like Zelda have only now begun to include bigger named VAs in their works like Matt Mercer, Kate Higgins, and Chris Hackney.

But these come off more like outliers. Fire Emblem is a second party series that only in recent entries really started using well known voice acting talent and direction. And while Xenoblade Chronicles is wonderfully acted, it’s still a lot of unknowns in the broader voice acting scene. And as mentioned previously, Zelda is only now beginning to add fully spoken voiced talent in their games, yet even that game isn’t fully acted outside of certain cutscenes with a fallback on Twilight Princess style jibberish when engaging with characters. I don’t say this to diminish any of the work done by these actors, I’m just observing that when you think about their roles in comparison to Nintendo’s brand, it’s not that prominent.

For the sake of comparison, narrative heavy game publishers like Naughty Dog, Insomniac, and BioWare are no stranger to beefing up their games with well known VAs working in the California scene. And it makes sense why these publishers were targeted when VA’s proposed their own strike. But in that list Nintendo-one of the big video game publishers in the world-was left off.

So what does this mean, what was the point of this ramble? Well I think it really speaks to in my opinion the work Charles Martinet did. To consistently be the voice of a franchise for so long and so popular that everyone knew who they were. To be a well known actor for most of their work in a Nintendo game. The most popular Nintendo gaming franchise. A company where the acting talent/voiced narrative cutscenes is not really part of their selling points. I think that it’s very impressive of one VA was able to have so much of an identity given all of the hurdles.

Im excited for the new voice of Mario. And while im not going to make any predictions on how nintendo will deal with voiced narratives content in the future, I do think it is a testament to how this very old school approach to game presentation can still be effective.