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daycourtofficial · 5 months

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His shadows know

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.8k | Warnings: none

Summary: His shadows knew you were mates before either of you did and they do everything they can to push the two of you together.

Author’s note: happy 2k kick off day!!! 🎉 this is actually the oldest draft I have - I began writing this in October I think? I loved the idea but got stuck for so long on where to take it so shout out to @tsunami-of-tears for reading it and giving me feedback - this story would be lost to time without you thank you thank you thank you

Being a scholar in the Winter Court had several perks - your home had a rich and deep history, you spent most of your time reading, and you became great friends with your High Lord and newly appointed High Lady - Kallias and Viviane. Your friendship had great perks, one of which was their allowance for you to travel with them to the Night Court.

Rhysand had spent centuries keeping up the appearance that it was a terrible place to live, that the people were terrible, everything was terrible, leading to none of the high lords ever spending time in the Night Court. After Velaris became known to the other high lords, Viviane wrote immediately to Mor asking for the chance to see the city of starlight. Mor immediately agreed, also requesting for you to come as well. You and Mor were friendly, but she liked you and knew you would love the city.

The three of you winnowed together, being greeted by Rhys, Feyre, and Mor upon your arrival. After some pleasantries, Kallias and Rhysand started speaking about some political matter, so you slipped out and started wandering around the palace, admiring the beautiful architecture and paintings lining the walls. Many portraits hung in front of you - some depicting battles, some depicting members of the royal family.

You were stopped at a beautiful portrait of their newest addition, Nyx, when you felt a little tug on your arm. You looked down to find the cutest little blob of darkness dancing around your arm. It tickled as it swirled and skittered across your skin. The little shadow made the rounds around your body, swirling around your arms, your waist, your legs - as if it was checking to make sure everything’s okay.

“You are adorable” you whispered to it, when a second and third one appeared. “How many of you are there?” You whispered, unsure if it can even respond.

“There’s no keeping count of them. Or keeping track of them, I suppose.”

The voice startles you and the shadows, who wrap around you, almost trying to guide you to the voice. You turn to see the most devastatingly beautiful male you’ve ever seen - dark, sun-kissed skin covered large muscular arms, massive membranous wings behind him. Light poured behind him allowing the wings to look almost pink from the stretched skin, but everywhere else behind him was cloaked in shadows that moved lazily, slithering across his shoulders.

Hazel eyes look down at you, a smirk on his face.

“Are you in charge of them, I suppose?” You ask, a smile grazing your lips.

“I wouldn’t say that. They don’t always listen to me. They seem to like you, though.”

While you were speaking, a few more joined to inspect you, fast blurs of darkness roaming your skin leaving goosebumps in their cold wake.

“Hmm, maybe they see me as a threat. I can be quite frightening, you know.”

“Frightening? Yes, I can see you’re trying to pinpoint your next target. Unfortunately, I do believe you are wasting your time. Studying Nyx’s portrait won’t help you determine his weaknesses.”

“I’ve actually uncovered quite a lot about his weaknesses from his portrait.”

“Pray tell,” he leans against the wall, studying your face.

“I think his weaknesses include both nap time and bed time, along with his incredibly short legs. Dare I say, he’d be very easy to pick up and maneuver.”

“Unfortunately, you’ve picked a target that is so heavily protected you may never get the chance to see him.”

Your face lights up in delight, “so I am a frightening threat? Why else go through the trouble to hide him from me?”

“Nyx doesn’t like strangers,” his tone was so matter of fact, the shadows peered over his shoulders to watch the exchange.

“Hmm, you could introduce us. Then it’ll be a fair fight.”

“Unfortunately for you, I believe he is napping. And disturbing him from a nap is the worst part of my job.”

“So it is part of your job to wake him up?”

“I have to train him against all these frightening threats that wander the halls.”

“I only see one frightening threat.”

The shadows began dancing between you two, pulling you both closer and closer, until you realized you could put your hand out and touch his face. Your fingers twitched slightly at the intrusive thought.

“And does this frightening threat have a name.”

“Y/n.”

He smiles at your name - you assume he already knew who you were, he just wanted you to say it for whatever reason.

“And does the one who has the terrifying job of waking Nyx have a name?”

“Azriel.”

“And you also aren’t in charge of the shadows, but you provide them with suggestions?”

He laughs as he says, “They usually listen to me, especially when I command them, but sometimes they just find something they like and want to investigate.”

“Is that what happened? They wanted to investigate me?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Did they like what they found out in their investigation?”

“Sometimes they investigate pretty things or things they’ve never seen before. They won’t tell me why they came after you, but they tell me they like you.”

“Can you tell them that I like them? Or can they hear me when I talk to them?”

“They can hear you, you just can’t really hear them.”

“They’re very beautiful.” You were talking about the shadows, of course. Definitely not also about the male in front of you.

“Yes they are.” He says, gazing into your eyes, perhaps speaking about more than just the shadows.

The spell between your shared gaze is broken when a door opens and Mor comes running down the hall. “Oh, good, Az found you. We thought you got lost somewhere,” she sounded out of breath, as if she were roaming the halls for you.

“I’m sorry, Mor, you know I love to wander.” You look at Azriel, his hazel eyes meeting your gaze. “You never know what you’ll find.”

It had been a long day. Velaris was stunning, a beautiful gem in an otherwise terrifying sounding court, but you desperately need a warm bath and a few moments of peace. You adored Viviane and Kallias, but you needed to be away from him for a few hours. You needed peace and quiet.

And maybe a few moments to think about the beautiful male you were flirting with earlier.

You prepared yourself a bath, lowering your entire body into the warm water. You tilt your head back, enjoying the warmth on your aching muscles from walking around the palace all day, when you see out of the corner of your eye a tiny little shadow.

“Hello, sweetie,” you coo towards it. You can’t help it - they’re absolutely adorable. They remind you of little pets, but less messy or noisy. One or two of them had followed you around during the day. You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed or not, especially because you didn’t see Azriel again for the rest of the day.

The shadow came to the edge of the bathtub, climbing up your arm, nestling into your hair. “You are a silly little thing aren’t you?” You ask it, with no response. “Will you ever speak to me?” You ask, again with no response. “Will you keep me company?” The shadow didn’t necessarily respond, but you felt the shadow’s agreement as it nestled further into your hair as you sank into the bath once more.

After your bath, with the shadow still keeping you company, you put on a nightgown and decided you wanted to go down to the kitchen to look for some cookies, certain that Rhysand would only have the highest quality of late night snacks. You reiterate your thoughts to the shadow, when the shadow holds you back by your wrist for a moment.

“Is everything alright?” The shadow keeps a hold on you, not letting you go. A moment or two passes, and the shadow lets go, causing you to move forward a little. “I can go now?” You ask, which the shadow ignores again, but doesn’t keep you in place any longer. You walk to the door, opening it only to collide directly into someone.

“I’m so sorry I-“ you’re cut off by the laugh of the beautiful Azriel.

“It’s okay,” he says, and you take this opportunity to glance down and you realize he’s wearing a loose pair of trousers with no shirt on. His bare chest was just as beautiful as the rest of him - black ink trailed across his shoulders in an abstract way that your eyes lingered on. If you weren’t so preoccupied by checking him out, you might have noticed the shadows surrounding him, trying to slow him down.

A small blush creeps down your cheeks as you ask, “is your uh tiny general happy and napping?”

He smirks and says “well I’m not sure about how happy he is, but Cassian is definitely asleep. He’s kept on a separate floor because of how loud he snores.”

You hit him in the chest, “you know I wasn’t talking about - wait he sleeps on a different floor? Is it really that bad?”

He motions for you to follow him up the stairs, and before you’re even halfway up, you hear impossibly loud snoring. “Oh,” you giggle, “yeah I’m not sure how anyone sleeps in the same city block as him.”

“You have no idea. Cassian’s really susceptible to pollen, so during the spring time it’s absolutely ridiculous. We once banned him for a week so we could all sleep.”

You laugh, and then try to shush yourself so he doesn’t wake up. “Stop - if I laugh I’ll wake him up.”

“What are you doing up?” He asks, his hazel eyes looking down at you with such fondness you wanted to curl up in his gaze and rest in it for a while.

“Oh I wanted cookies, actually.” You reply. “Why are you awake?”

He stammers a little, not wanting you to know that he was walking by your door to see if you were still awake. He had wanted to see you again, your earlier encounter occupying his thoughts all day long, when he assumed you had turned in for the night.

“Uh, I was doing a patrol.” He settled on.

“Oh yeah? Wanted to make sure the terrifying threat was contained?”

He smirked, “what do you think I’m doing now? I figure if I feed the threat, it might spare me.” He gives you the sweetest looking puppy dog face, and you have no idea where it came from, but it absolutely melts your heart.

“Stop that!” you say, while hitting his chest.

“Stop what?” He says, continuing his pouting.

“You look like a sad puppy dog, stop!”

“Will it make the frightening threat not want to kill me?”

“Hmm, the frightening threat will leave you be, for now.”

You two head into the kitchen, and he immediately starts searching through cupboards.

“Mor and Cassian have the best cookies,” he says, while reaching the higher shelves to pull out random boxes that contain cookie tins.

“I didn’t know being a spymaster included knowing everyone’s taste in cookies.”

“You never know what might become necessary information.”

He looked down at you, offering you a cookie. You accepted it, and as your hands were connected by the cookie, a few shadows danced around your arms to some unheard song. He seemed a little surprised at them, his mouth dropping just slightly.

“Are they always this kind to night court guests?” You asked, nibbling on the cookie.

“Only the pretty ones.”

“And do you always flirt with night court guests?”

He leaned in closer, “only the pretty ones.”

You took a step closer, until you’re almost touching noses.

“And do you always commit crimes with your guests?”

His breath was fanning your face. It smelled of sugar cookie and mint, and you think about what it would feel like to inhale him.

“Only you.”

He pulled out a cookie and offered it to your mouth, which you happily accepted. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the cookie with your mouth, pulling it from his fingers.

“I can’t say I’ve indulged in criminal activity with anyone else.”

His grin grows as you bite into the cookie, a few crumbs falling but a few shadows swoop down to catch them before depositing them in the trash.

“Good. I am in charge of catching criminals in the night court, and I’d hate to have to catch you and lock you up.”

A blush spread over your cheeks. You opened your mouth to respond, when Azriel straightened, his wings going rigid.

“Hide the evidence.” He whispered, as he pulled back and quietly put the cookies away back where they came from. Before you can ask him about the abrupt change, you hear loud footsteps coming down the stairs into the kitchen, before seeing Cassian appear.

He looked at the two of you, surprised that anyone else was awake at this hour. Now he was hoping the two of you wouldn’t stay too long so he could reach his secret stash of cookies.

During the afternoon the next day, your little shadow companion kept following you around, almost acting as a guide dog. When you came down for breakfast, it guided you into the seat next to where Azriel was sitting, even guiding your hand to grab an apple at the same time as him, causing your fingers to brush against each other.

Currently the shadow was dragging you through the hallways of the house, into what appeared to be a massive library. It guided you to sit in a chair at a table where there seemed to be some paperwork piled on top. The shadow left you for a moment, returning with a book for you.

“Ah, thank you,” you say, petting at the shadow. It curled around your finger in reciprocation before slithering back into your hair. You began reading the book, only getting a chapter in when someone sat across the table from you.

“The threat has found where I liked to do work,” Azriel stated, looking through his papers. You smiled up at him, “I have to be prepared to strike at any moment, you know.”

He chuckled, a soft look on his face. “Well, if you plan to attack in the library, please try to keep noise levels to a minimum, Clotho gets very upset when I cause too much noise. I’m on thin ice with her.”

“Oh, I see. You have a reputation for hosting parties down here,” you muse.

He looks at you, a lazy grin on his face, “my parties are known across Prythian, only the best, most exclusive guests may attend my library events.”

“And am I on the guest list?” You ask, leaning against the table. “Of course,” he replied, leaning towards you over the table, “you might be a threat, but I’ve heard you’re one hell of a dancer.”

You laugh loudly, then remember where you are and try to quiet down. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lousy dancer, but I would be very interested in attending one of your parties anyway.”

The longer you stayed, the more the shadows kept maneuvering around you. Instead of just one you now had a small trio who accompanied you everywhere, hiding in your hair, wisping around your neck and wrists like jewelry when you were alone.

One night at dinner, you’re seated next to Azriel for the fourth evening in a row. You’re not sure if any of his family members pick up on this, but Kallias and Viviane also sit in the same place each night, so perhaps it wasn’t anything noteworthy.

“Can you pass me the potatoes please?”

You knew if you turned to the right, Azriel’s face would be right next to yours and your noses would be able to touch.

“Of course, can’t give you any reason not to trust me.” You winked at him, reaching over for the potatoes. When you turn back, Azriel’s expression has changed ever so slightly, and his eyes search for your face, something you can’t quite pinpoint in his eyes.

“Here you are,” you say, moving the bowl towards him.

“Here I am,” he says, not reaching for the bowl, instead keeping his gaze fixed on you. You laugh, expecting there to be some joke, but he keeps his gaze fixed on you and you find it impossible to breathe with the way he’s looking at you.

Surely someone else notices the way you two are locked in this embrace, but when you quickly glance around the table, no one seems to notice or care.

He reached for the potatoes and looked at them. “How can I be sure you didn’t poison these?”

You laugh, the spell of the moment gone, and you’re able to think properly again.

“I guess you’ll never know.”

He placed the bowl down, smirking. “Better not take any chances then.”

The rest of the dinner continued, everyone amused at Nyx’s babbling and insistence of sitting in Cassian’s lap despite how many times he’s put back into his own high chair, and yet your eyes kept finding those potatoes Azriel never ate, the bowl untouched since he took it from your hands.

A quick knock to your door the next morning stops you from packing, and you stride over to open it. “Hi, Azriel,” you say, leaving the door open for him to come in as you turn back around to put your folded clothes away. Several of his shadows move towards you, trying to unfold your clothes when you aren't looking.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, shutting the door behind him gently, turning back to you with his hands in his pockets. You swat at the shadows, refolding their undoing.

“Unfortunately, my trip always had an expiration date attached to it.”

You breathe deeply, trying to ignore how good he smells when you feel him come up behind you, his chest close enough that you can feel his body heat through your clothes. From behind you, he lifts one of his hands up, almost touching you, but not quite getting far enough before retracting his hand.

He clears his throat, “what did you think of my home court?”

You smile, doing the latches on your luggage. “It’s quite beautiful. Do you get all four seasons here?”

He nods his head in agreement when you turn to face him, not noticing the shadows behind you undoing the latches to your suitcase and unpacking once more for you. “That must be nice,” you muse, “I love Winter, but I am quite tired of the cold.”

“I’m used to the cold, growing up in the mountains you grow quite accustomed to it.”

“Then you’d feel comfortable visiting me in the Winter Court?”

Azriel’s ears reddened at the brazen ask, “I can’t imagine visiting you anywhere and not feeling at ease.”

It was your turn for your ears to redden, but Azriel doesn’t let the silence linger for long.

“Before you go, can I tell you something?”

Surprise overcomes your face, intrigued by his question. You nod, desperate to know what he has to say before you leave. He looked behind you, watching his shadows unpack your bag and put your clothes back where they had come from in the drawers.

“I was very drawn to you when we first met.”

He clears his throat, his wings twitching with nerves. “I was literally dragged to you. I was winnowing elsewhere, but my shadows brought me next to you. I was intrigued why they’d do such a thing,” one of the offending shadows gently passes over his cheek before making its way to greet you.

“They’re funny little things. I thought they were just annoyed with me because I wasn’t sleeping. And then you spoke to me. You were so relaxed with me, immediately. It’s not- most fae aren’t relaxed around me. And I really liked you.”

“I like you too, Azriel.”

He holds up a hand, silently telling you he’s not quite finished. You hold your hands up in mock surrender, allowing him to continue.

“And then you were everywhere. In the hallway, next to me at meals, on the balconies when I landed. It’s like you knew where I’d be.

“Last night at dinner, when I asked you for the potatoes.. I didn’t eat them after you gave them to me.”

You cock your head to the side, confused at this admission over something as minor as potatoes. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, no. I just- I just- the second you were about to hand them to me, I felt it.”

“You felt it?” Confusion coursed through you, completely unsure of where he was going. You enunciated each word, curious over what ‘it’ was.

“I felt it.” His tone held more conviction, but you weren’t any less confused by what he was talking about.

“What did you feel?”

“This.” And you felt a sharp tug in your chest, pulling you towards him, almost knocking you off of your feet. You gasp, holding your arms out to steady yourself, your hands meeting his chest instead.

“That- what- I-“ you look around frantically, unsure exactly of what that was. You look up, finding soft, slight amusement in his hazel eyes. Shadows swarmed around the two of you, circling your arms, your legs, your fingers. They seemed to be saying something, and you closed your eyes to listen.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You close your eyes, looking deep into your chest, searching for that rope, that tether between your souls. It was shadow and ice, wrapped around each other for as far as you could see.

You gave it a sharp tug, and it was Azriel’s turn to lurch forward. You laugh at his stumbling, holding his elbows to keep him steady.

“Is your offer still valid - for me to visit you in Winter?”

“Only if I can come visit you here, mate.”

Azriel’s knees nearly gave out at the name, the title he’s wanted for centuries. And here you were, right in front of him.

His hand moved hesitantly toward your face, lingering close enough that you could feel the chill from his hand. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, looking up at him. This beautiful, kind male was your mate.

You had known him for four days - you hardly knew him, hardly knew anything about him or his homeland. But that was okay. You knew his shadows well enough by now.

They were a pretty good judge of character.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading! 💕

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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aceyalonso · 10 days

Text

sera's kinktober masterlist 2024

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 : 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

how? send an ask, pairing a driver with the available day! ↳ example: "hi! can I request [driver] + [day #___]?"

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

✮ AHHH!! my first kinktober ever, so please don't be too harsh :,) ✮ please note that some of these works/chapters contain content and kinks that might not be your cup of tea, please do not click on something that you're not comfortable with ✮ i will only write a maximum of 4 fics for each driver (so that there won't be too many of each driver) ✮ this list will be a mix of full fics and drabbles. ✮ some of the days here already have drivers assigned, but rest assured majority of these are up for grabs!

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭!

what days are available? ↳ i will remove the days that have already been taken. ✮ day 3 - biting (requested by anon) ✮ day 9 - lap dance (requested by anon) ✮ day 11 - temperature play (requested by anon) ✮ day 12 - mutual masturbation (requested by anon) ✮ day 13 - deepthroating (requested by anon) ✮ day 15 - begging (requested by anon) ✮ day 17 - dacryphilia (requested by anon) ✮ day 19 - bondage (requested by anon) ✮ day 20 - ass worship (requested by @cleopatrick-123) ✮ day 21 - breeding (requested by anon) ✮ day 22 - orgasm denial (requested by anon) ✮ day 23 - overstimulation (requested by @nandolonso) ✮ day 24 - voyeurism (requested by anon) ✮ day 25 - nipple play (requested by @bad268) ✮ day 26 - wax play (requested by anon) ✮ day 28 - public sex (requested by @menagerofmischief) ✮ day 29 - hair pulling (requested by @nepobbylver)

day 1 (october 1st) - humiliation kink with sebastian vettel | "don't cover your mouth, let them hear it liebling."

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 2 (october 2nd) - threesome with lando norris & oscar piastri | "look osc, she's taking it so well"

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 3 (october 3rd) - biting with oscar piastri | “jesus fuck, are you are a vampire or something?”

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 4 (october 4th) - overstimulation with lando norris | "be a good girl f'me, i know you can take another round"

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 5 (october 5th) - jealous sex with oscar piastri | "i don't have to be inside you to make you feel good."

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 6 (october 6th) - daddy kink with jenson button | "spread your legs for daddy, i wanna see you"

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 7 (october 7th) - hate fucking with lance stroll | "you think you’re better than me? let’s see how much you can take.”

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 8 (october 8th) - sensory deprivation with fernando alonso | "don’t argue mi princesa, just put the blindfold on.”

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 9 (october 9th) - lap dance with daniel ricciardo | “fuck, keep moving like that and i’ll bend you over the bar.”

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 10 (october 10th) - mirror sex with george russell | "look at yourself, so gorgeous."

synopsis -

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 11 (october 11th) - temperature play with kimi raikkonen | “didn’t i tell you to stay still?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 12 (october 12th) - mutual masturbation with charles leclerc | "show me how you like it, i want to see you squirm."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 13 (october 13th) - deepthroat with max verstappen | “you look so pathetic like this.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 14 (october 14th) - tattoos with lewis hamilton | "i didn't know you got a spine tattoo."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 15 (october 15th) - begging with charles leclerc | "you look so adorable like this, begging for me."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 16 (october 16th) - lingerie with carlos sainz | "turn around, hermosa. i want to see the back."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 17 (october 17th) - dacryphilia with ollie bearman | “you’re so pretty with tears in your eyes.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 18 (october 18th) - spanking with charles leclerc | "feel that? that's for flirting with fucking team mate."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 19 (october 19th) - bondage with lewis hamilton | "look at you, all helpless and desperate."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 20 (october 20th) - ass worship with logan sargeant | “babe, just sit on my face oh my god.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 21 (october 21st) - breeding with logan sargeant | "i'm going to fill you up so well baby"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 22 (october 22nd) - orgasm denial with sebastian vettel | “you won’t be cumming, not unless i tell you to.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 23 (october 23rd) - edging with fernando alonso | "you can't handle this, can you?"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 24 (october 24th) - voyeurism with oscar piastri | “don’t let my presence stop you, keep going.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 25 (october 25th) - nipple play with ollie bearman | “what’s that poking through your shirt?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 26 (october 26th) - wax play with charles leclerc | "close your eyes and me take control, mon cheri. i'll decide where the wax goes."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 27 (october 27th) - size difference with ollie bearman | "i want you to feel every vein and every inch of my cock."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 28 (october 28th) - public sex with oscar piastri | “are you crazy? what if we get caught?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 29 (october 29th) - hair pulling with carlos sainz | "you like that don't you?"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 30 (october 30th) - food play with lewis hamilton | "you taste so fucking sweet baby."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 31 (october 31st) - oral fixation with daniel ricciardo | "suck on it, show me how much you want it."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

571 notes · View notes

yzzyhee · 9 days

Text

flamin’ hot lemon — lhs

bf!heeseung x gf!reader

warnings: established relationship, suggestive (blowjob— minors dni), kissing/making out?, petnames (baby), lowcases written

wc: 3.8k~

synopsis: you know how the saying goes… save a horse, ride a cowboy… or do something about it as long as it’s saving the horse…

now listen to: flamin’ hot lemon — jaehyun

a/n: now. this song was on repeat ever since the release so obviously, it had to happen as i remembered the sweet venom stage— also ! first time writing smth that’s like not fluff / small suggestive and actually going almost all the way in but well, this was heavily saved by my beloved precious @ja3yun — a big round of applause cause without her this fic would’ve never seen the daylight 🙂‍↕️ anyway, feedbacks & constructive criticism is appreciated ✌🏻

ps. my wife said to make it clear there won’t be a part two so i’m saying it — there won’t be a part too.

you blink. and then you blink again, and again, and again as if each time you won’t be met with the same view, thinking it must be your eyes playing tricks with you.

“baby? you okay?” heeseung asks, a slight hint of worry in his eyes though his tone gives him away. he knows. of course, he knows why you’re suddenly speechless, staring at him as if he came out of your shared bedroom completely naked.

your mouth parts, forming an “o” as you try to wrap your mind around the view before you. and what a beautiful view… there he stands, your boyfriend, in all his denim-clad cowboy glory.

the fitted jacket hugs his frame in all the right places, highlighting his broad shoulders and the way the jeans cling to his legs is almost unfair. a silver belt attached to his jeans that accentuates his pretty tiny waist. and of course, the most important part of it all, the cowboy-denim hat that sits low on his head, casting a shadow over his mischievous eyes.

you knew you were going to match — a cowboy always has to have his cowgirl after all. you have the perfect blend of casual and playful; a fitted, deep red plaid button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just above your elbows, high-waisted denim shorts that hug your hips perfectly, a fringed brown suede vest that you wear over your shirt, and a pair of scuffed-up cowboy boots completing your whole look.

“yn?” he smirks, his voice low as he takes a slow step toward you. “cat got your tongue?”

you blink again, the heat rising in your cheeks as your brain scrambles to catch up. your mind isn’t cooperating with you, struggling to string together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. you try to focus, but the way heeseung is standing there — all cocky and confident in that ridiculously attractive cowboy outfit — has your nerves completely scrambled.

“i- what… what is this?” you finally manage to stutter, gesturing vaguely toward his outfit. the words feel clumsy on your tongue, your heart pounding a little too loudly in your chest.

heeseung chuckles softly, his hands casually resting on his hips, the gesture making you even more aware of how well the denim clings to his figure.

“it’s for the party tonight. you like it?” his voice is low, teasing, and you know now that he’s fully aware of the effect he’s having on you.

right, the party. your friends thought it was a brilliant idea to throw a random halloween party even though it wasn’t even remotely close to 31st october, yet, you still agreed without much thought. but now, standing here, facing heeseung like this, it’s hard to focus on anything except how your pulse seems to be dancing under your skin, and how your throat has gone dry.

you try to clear your head, but every time you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach only get worse. heeseung’s eyes don’t leave yours, the playful spark in them making your pulse race even more. his presence feels overwhelming, like the air between you two is thick with electricity.

“i-yeah,” you breathe, swallowing hard. “i just wasn’t expecting… this.”

his smirk deepens, and you catch the slight shift in his expression, a glimmer of amusement mixed with something else—something darker, more intense. “i wanted to surprise you,” he says, his voice soft now, like he’s not just talking about the costume.

and suddenly, you’re acutely aware of how close he’s standing, the warmth radiating off him, the way his fingers brush against your waist as he steps in even closer. you can smell his cologne, something warm and familiar, but tonight it feels different, headier and spicier somehow.

“so, are you surprised?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, as he gently tilts your chin up, his thumb tracing along your jawline.

you nod, your breath hitching in your throat. you’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the way his thumb continues to brush against your skin, but you feel like your heart might just burst out of your chest. everything feels so intense — like the whole room has shrunk to just the two of you.

heeseung leans in, his lips hovering just above yours, and you feel like time slows down. your heart is racing, your entire body tingling with anticipation as his breath mingles with yours. you close your eyes, waiting, wanting.

then, he closes the distance, his lips finally meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss. it’s gentle at first, like he’s testing the waters, but when you respond — when you kiss him back with equal intensity — something shifts. the kiss deepens, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies.

your mind blanks, the only thing you can focus on is the warmth of his lips against yours, the way his hands grip your waist, the way he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. it’s slow but deliberate, filled with a tenderness that has your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.

when he pulls back, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath is slightly uneven, and his lips are curved into a soft smile.

“i think we should head out for the party now…” you say, your voice just slightly louder than a whisper.

humming in response, heeseung’s lips brush your forehead in a featherlight kiss before he straightens, his hands reluctantly sliding from your waist. “right,” he says, his voice hushed and warm, though there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “wouldn’t want to keep the party waiting.”

by the time you reach your friend’s hourse, it’s buzzing with life. you can hear the thumping bass of music before you even reach the front door, the muffled sound of laughter and voices spilling out onto the porch. the house is decked out in full halloween glory — orange and purple lights drape across the front yard, casting an eerie glow over the hay bales and fake tombstones scattered across the lawn. a giant inflatable skeleton waves ominously from the roof, its eyes flickering red.

the inside of the house is even more chaotic. there are people everywhere, dressed in every kind of costume imaginable — witches, zombies, vampires, superheroes — filling the space with laughter and energy. the smell of caramel apples and popcorn mingles with the unmistakable scent of candy and punch, and the air is thick with excitement.

heeseung’s hand tightens slightly around yours as you weave through the crowd, his thumb still brushing against your skin in that comforting way you love so much. you catch glimpses of familiar faces as you move deeper into the house, waving at people you know from classes as you pass. everyone seems to be caught up in the pre-halloween spirit, and the atmosphere is electric, a blend of fun chaos and easygoing joy.

you suddenly spot jay, his cowboy hat cocked at a ridiculous angle, standing with his girlfriend, aejay, by the snack table. jay is in a flannel shirt and boots, looking like he stepped straight out of a western, while aejay rocks a sleek, edgy vampire costume — her dark lips and red contacts making her look both elegant and slightly dangerous. they’re laughing about something, jay’s arm slung casually around her shoulders.

when jay catches sight of you and heeseung, his grin widens. “well, well, look who finally decided to show up!” he calls, raising his red solo cup in greeting. “and look at you, heeseung, pulling off that cowboy look like you were born for it.”

heeseung grins back, tugging you closer as you approach. you laugh, shaking your head. “is this some kind of cowboy reunion?” you ask when you reach the couple and eye jay more intently in his flannel and boots.

jay smiles and nods, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “we thought it’d be funny. jake should be around here somewhere too, dressed as that cowboy character from toy story.

heeseung immediately perks up, avid fan of the toy story movies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you mean woody?”

jay snickers, already sensing where this is going.

“well,” heeseung says, glancing at you with a mischievous grin, “looks like jake’s the only one buzzing with excitement tonight.” he leans closer to you, voice dropping to a playful whisper. “but don’t worry, baby — i’m no toy. you don’t have to pull my string to get me talking. however, you can pull on something else…”

you roll your eyes, groaning at the cheesy, suggestive line, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “heeseung,” you laugh, nudging him in the side, “let’s just hope jake doesn’t take the woody too seriously tonight.”

jay bursts out laughing at that, and even heeseung’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

the four of you chat for a while, catching up amidst the hum of the party. aejay, always the life of any gathering, starts telling a dramatic story about how she had to battle three different costume stores to get the perfect set of vampire fangs. jay interrupts her every few seconds, adding his own exaggerated spin to the tale, making you laugh until your stomach hurts.

the lights are dim, casting everyone in a soft, warm glow, and the air is filled with the scent of sugar and cinnamon, along with the occasional burst of cold air from the open back door.

it’s a perfect kind of chaos—the kind where time seems to slow down and you’re acutely aware of every moment, every laugh, every smile. but most of all, you’re aware of heeseung’s presence beside you, his hand never leaving yours, his arm wrapping around your waist every so often, like he can’t bear to be too far away from you.

you keep stealing glances at him, your eyes tracing over the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his denim jacket fits perfectly across his broad shoulders.

you bite your bottom lip, unable to comprehend how this ridiculously handsome man is yours. every time you look at him, an involuntary expression of satisfaction and adoration spreads across your face. that’s right, he is yours.

sensing your stare, heeseung leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear in that soft, teasing way that always makes your heart race. “having fun?” he asks, his voice low and intimate, like a secret meant only for you.

you look up at him, your heart fluttering in your chest as you meet his gaze. his eyes are dark, full of warmth, and something else — something that sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. you nod, feeling your breath hitch slightly. “yeah,” you whisper, smiling softly. “i’m having a lot of fun.”

heeseung grins at your response, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. the heat between you feels tangible, like the rest of the crowded room has melted away, leaving just the two of you. “good,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

then, he leans back just enough to look into your eyes, his fingers grazing your chin. with a gentle touch, he tilts your head up towards him, his thumb brushing across your skin as he smiles, his voice dipping even lower. “wanna have even more fun?”

the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker with mischief, makes your pulse quicken. you can feel the air between you both shift, thick with anticipation, and all you can think about is how close his lips are to yours, how effortlessly he seems to set your whole world spinning with just a look.

heeseung’s grin deepens as he holds your gaze, his fingers still resting gently under your chin. you feel the tension change between the two of you. his face has written trouble all over it and, without another word, he gently grabs your hand, forgetting about your friends and starts tugging you through the crowd with that easy confidence you love so much.

“where are we going?” you ask, your heart racing in your chest, excitement swirling inside you as you follow him down the dimly lit hallway.

heeseung glances back at you, that signature playful smirk tugging at his lips. “wouldn’t you like to know?” he says, his voice teasing.

before you can ask another question, he stops in front of the bathroom door, pushing it open slightly and pulling you inside with him. the moment the door clicks shut, the noise of the party fades into a distant hum, leaving just the two of you together in the small space.

your back presses gently against the bathroom counter and heeseung leans in, his hands bracing on either side of you, caging you in, his eyes dark with a playful intensity. he doesn't say anything for a moment — just looks at you, his gaze roving over your face like he's taking his time, savouring the way you're biting your bottom lip, the way your breath catches every time he gets a little closer.

"you’ve been staring at me all night," he murmurs, his lips brushing just barely against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "got something on your mind, baby?"

your cheeks burn as his words settle over you, but you can't stop the grin that threatens to split your cheeks. "maybe," you tease back, your hands instinctively finding their way to the front of his denim jacket, your fingers toying with the fabric.

heeseung’s eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "you know," he says softly, his voice laced with amusement, "if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask."

you laugh, the sound light and breathless, your body buzzing with anticipation. "oh, i’ve had your attention all night," you counter, your voice just as teasing, leaning in closer, your lips grazing his jaw. "haven’t i?”

his breath hitches slightly at the contact, his arms tightening around you. "yeah, you have," he admits, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper, like it's just for you. "but now... i think I want a little more."

your heart skips a beat at his words, your pulse thrumming wildly in your chest. heeseung leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours, close enough.

your heart races as heeseung’s lips hover close to yours, the tension between you thick and electric. the space around you seems to shrink, and the air feels warmer, heavier, with anticipation. his breath mingles with yours, and you're maddeningly aware of how close his body is to yours, how his hands on either side of you are steady, but his eyes — his eyes tell you he's barely holding back.

your hands tighten their grip on the front of his jacket, pulling him closer still, your breath dancing with his. the sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, loud and steady, as you resist the urge to close the gap between you immediately. instead, you let the tension simmer, savouring the way it builds and swells in the space between you both.

"i want to give you something," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

heeseung raises an eyebrow, his eyes dark with curiosity and desire, but his smirk never falters. "yeah?" he murmurs, his lips just a breath away from yours, his hand gently sliding down your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. "what’s that, baby?"

you bite your lip, your pulse quickening. "a little reward," you tease, your voice playful yet laced with intent.

his grip on your waist tightens slightly, and you can feel the tension in his body as he leans in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "i like the sound of that," he whispers, his voice low and rough.

you grin, your heart racing, and slowly, you let your fingers slide down from his jacket to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. "but," you say, tilting your head up just enough so your lips graze his jaw, "you'll have to be patient."

heeseung groans softly, his head dipping forward until his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and uneven. "you’re killing me," he mutters, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone, like he's enjoying this playful back-and-forth as much as you are.

"patience," you repeat, your fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines down his chest, your touch light enough to drive him crazy.

heeseung chuckles, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth, his voice thick with both amusement and frustration. "you’re really gonna make me wait?"

looking up at him through your lashes, the smile on your lips is playful but knowing. "i think it'll be worth it," you say, your voice teasing, and you lean up to press a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth

his lips press back against yours, but before he can deepen the kiss, you pull away, your smile widening at the quiet groan of protest he makes. heeseung’s hands tighten on your waist, and his eyes meet yours with a mix of desire and amusement, like he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's more than willing to play along.

you tilt your head slowly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. before heeseung can even register what's happening, you drop to your knees, the cool bathroom floor sending a brief shiver through you. when you look up at him, his breath catches, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

his hands, which had been resting on the counter behind you, grip the edge tightly now, knuckles white with tension. his gaze locks with yours, dark and full of surprise, anticipation, and something deeper. you can see the way his chest rises and falls, his breath coming faster as the realisation of your bold move settles in.

"y/n." heeseung breathes out, his voice rough, like he's struggling to keep control. his eyes flicker between your face and the space between you, his hands twitching as if unsure of whether to stop you or let you continue. but his body betrays him — he's frozen in place, caught between disbelief and desire.

you bite your lip, leaning closer, your fingers lightly grazing the fabric of his jeans. "shh," you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. the power shift between you both is palpable, the air between you charged with intensity.

you can see the effect you're having on him-the way his breath hitches, his muscles tensing under your touch, the raw hunger in his gaze as he watches your every move.

for a moment, you both just stay there, the silence in the small bathroom heavy and thick with expectancy. heeseung’s jaw clenches, his hands still gripping the counter as he lets out a shaky breath. his lips part as if to speak, but no words come out, just another sharp inhale as he watches you, eyes hooded and dark with want.

but instead of taking things further, you pull back just slightly, your teasing smile widening. "still want me to keep going?" you ask, your voice soft but dripping with playful intent, leaving him on the edge of anticipation.

heeseung’s grip loosens for a moment, and he lets out a low, breathless chuckle, his voice hoarse. "you’re really not playing fair, are you?"

you wink at him and moisturise your lips. a feel of rage and desire rushes to heeseung’s limbs as you free his now hard dick. your hands wrap around the base of his dick and you stroke him with a rotating motion. a small gasp escapes your boyfriend’s lips as a zap of pleasure shoots down his spine.

heeseung’s fingers sink into you hair, gathering it in a ponytail, and then yanking you back not so smoothly. you look back at him, eyelashes batting and lips forming a pout. “let me have a taste, please.”

and who is heeseung to say no to you? he stares at you as you slide his length into your hot, wet mouth, the tip of him disappearing past your lips as you continue pumping him at the base slowly, your grip tightening gradually.

your movements are slow, teasing and sensual. you peek up at your boyfriend through your lashes the whole time, watching his reactions, relishing in each moan and hiss — loving the effect you have on him.

suddenly, heeseung tugs you away gently, his fingers tangled in the makeshift ponytail he created, his eyes dark but steady as they meet yours. his lips curl into a teasing smirk as he watches you spread his precum across your lips. his thumb lightly brushes your bottom lip, and his breath hitches for a moment.

"why did you stop me?" you ask, your voice soft but with a hint of frustration, groaning slightly at the abrupt interruption.

his grip tightens ever so slightly around your arms as he pulls you up to stand, his expression shifting from playful to something more serious, yet still burning with desire.

“we’re leaving the party now, get up.” he says firmly, voice low and commanding.

you frown at first, confused by the sudden shift, but before you can question him, he's already pulling you closer, his hands gripping your elbows as he makes sure you're steady on your feet. his eyes soften as he sees your confused, slightly hurt expression, and his lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“no, no, baby. i loved it, i love you” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “ but we’re doing things my way now. let’s go home.”

a playful smile spreads across your face, and you nod, understanding the promise behind his words. "as long as you wear the hat while fucking me, i’ll go anywhere you want," you tease, your voice playful but full of anticipation.

heeseung chuckles, adjusting the cowboy hat still perched on his head “you really love this costume, don’t you?”

“you know what they say, save a horse… ride a cowboy…” you say in a sing-song voice, winking as you turn around and open the bathroom door to step out.

behind you, heeseung’s deep, booming laughter echoes down the hallway, and you feel his presence close behind as he follows you out. there’s a glint in his eyes, and you can feel the shift in the air, the promise of what's to come.

as you step back into the party, the noise and music barely register. all that's on your mind is heeseung, and judging by the heated look in his eyes, the feeling is mutual. there’s only one thing on his mind as he watches you saunter ahead — tonight, a lot of riding will be involved.

after all, he thinks with a smirk, a lot of horses need saving.

#— 💭 mars ; written work #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts

462 notes · View notes

im-ovulating · 5 months

Note

I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.

(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)

(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)

(Not proofread)

(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)

Word Count: 1,611

Summary- Run, baby, run.

Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run

-------------------

"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.

"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"

You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.

"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.

And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.

You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.

"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"

His voice is muffled by the mask.

You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.

A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.

Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.

You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.

Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.

Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.

Wait-

No. That was your pulse in your ears...

'Where is he..?'

Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.

'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.

"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"

A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.

"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"

So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.

You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.

"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."

With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.

You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.

And Tate knows it.

He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.

The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.

"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"

His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"

Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.

You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.

"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.

Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.

"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.

You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."

He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.

"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.

"You love it," he grunts. And you do.

He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.

You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.

You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.

"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.

Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.

The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.

You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.

"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."

You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.

He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."

With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.

"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"

The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.

You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"

Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.

"There she is," he whispers against your lips.

(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)

#tate langdon x reader smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon smut #tate langdon #tate langdon x you #ahs smut #ahs x reader #ahs murder house

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florenceafternoon · 14 days

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

I've also seen a lot of people asking for 6/7th year jily so I tried to include some. These fics explore how much they've grown in that period between the end of school and the rising tensions of war.

Of course, I've also included fics with marauders shenanigans. As always, these fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

Death and Other Inconveniences by @asteriaem

When James Potter disappeared for ten days in the middle of the spring term of their fifth year, the whole school noticed. He buried his parents in a quiet ceremony and returned to school amid outrageous rumours.

When Lily Evans disappeared for three days before the Christmas holidays in sixth year, two people noticed. She found the house packed, a nasty note from her sister, and spent the rest of the holidays sleeping rough. Both are left grieving and angry at Hogwarts over the summer, with no where else to go and war raging around them. Really, how else could it have gone?

God where do I even start? This fic is incredibly well written; everything from how well-rounded and dynamic all the characters are to the dialogue and descriptions. For everyone tired of character deformation and would like to read a long-form that explores the turbulence of adolescence coupled with grief and the uncertainties of war this fic is for you. When I say I miss old jily, I mean this exact era of characterisation.

Notes by @scriibble-fics

On an ordinary Tuesday in October of 1975, James Potter passes Lily Evans a note. She has no way of knowing it, of course, but it’s the first note of thousands that will pass between them in the years to come.

Head of House by SwissCheesePlant

The consequences of Sirius and James pretending to be boyfriends weren't supposed to come to a head during a convoluted and unnecessarily kinetic drinking game... but such is life.

As If By Magic by @annabtg

Lily Evans, Head Girl, is starting her seventh year at Hogwarts. Alongside her, Head Boy James Potter, who has always had a crush on her yet has given up all hope of winning her over. But between working together, sharing fun times with friends and getting through the darker moments that come with living in an era of war, things between them are bound to change...

Questions and Answers by lizardcookie (on ao3)

The simple question of whether or not they're dating doesn't exactly have a simple answer (seventh Year jily).

Come Together by @thequibblah

It’s difficult to say when James and Lily took the first steps to love. Perhaps they had always been walking this road, unaware of the person they were walking towards until the mist cleared. They would fall in love eventually — but we would be remiss in ignoring the hiccups along the way.

Okay so confession, I haven’t read this but it's been on my TBR for ages and everyone's been recommending me to read it. Judging by other works by the same author that I have read, I can attest that Lily and James have always been well-written so I trust that this fic is no exception.

These next few fics are all by @gigglesandfreckles-hp because Abi's characterisations are perfect and there’s just something about her writing that transports me to the scene. This woman can make me laugh and cry and worry all in under three thousand words.

roots of memory

Lily frowns slightly, mulling it over. “I’m not really sure either,” she admits. “Honestly, don’t take this personally, but I don’t remember much about you in the first couple of years. I think I was too focused on trying to figure out school and magic and everything else.”

James clutches his chest in mock offence. “I’ll act like that didn’t just irreparably damage my soul.”

crafting chemistry

“Is there something that needs to be discussed between the three of us?” Minerva prompts, her eyes narrowing sharply.

Lily’s face betrays her first. A bright flush creeps slowly along her cheeks, blooming from her neck upward, as though her skin can’t hide the emotion simmering underneath. She keeps her eyes stubbornly trained on the far corner of the office, anywhere but James. Minerva notices James’s hand, the one that had been habitually running through his hair, freeze mid-motion, his fingers tightening slightly.

but we dream in the light (a continuation of one of my favourite fics)

“Lily Evans, we have got to stop meeting like this,” he grins.

She shakes her head, laughing. “Jesus Christ.”

James spins around dramatically. “Where?”

the dance of mischief and duty

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure.

But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

prompt: flip the script

my church offers no absolutes

She stares at him, her eyes the only ones open as the priest prays, but she can’t look away.

James Potter is here.

under the influence of loss

“Like what? You fancy me! Kiss me.”

Each time she says it, it’s like a new bruise blooms around his heart, her words pressing on all of them at once.

“I can’t!” he shouts, the frustration cracking through.

“Because I’ve been drinking?” she demands, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Your chivalry is duly noted, Potter, but I’m giving you a pass here. Just—”

“It’s not about that,” he interrupts.

You know what they say, you can tell who an author's favourite character is by how much they make them suffer

From the Edge by @maraudersftw

A three-hour-long detention. A barrage of unspilled words. A kiss that has remained unacknowledged. Until now.

That Summer by the_casual_author (on ao3)

In which James and Lily spend the summer in a house by the sea. (and fall in love in the process)

pleasant, poised, polite, professional by @ohmygodshesinsane

Lily Evans' journalism career is stagnating, and when Mumblemumps sweeps through the office, she couldn't be less pleased to be asked to cover the sports beat. James Potter, the captain of the Wimborne Wasps who is campaigning to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, only seems to confirm her worst fears about athletes. Until.

If you enjoyed James' characterisation in James Potter Won't Go Quietly then you'll enjoy this

Fantasise also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

When Lily ends up taking Veritaserum as part of one of Sirius' games, James finds that he really doesn't need to know any of the nitty-gritty details. Fate has other plans.

And James Potter also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

The most unfortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask Lily Evans, is being forced to work alongside James Potter. The most fortunate part about being one of the best students in the year, if you ask James Potter, is getting opportunities to annoy Lily Evans. The fact of the matter is, that despite their both being talented, intelligent students with bright futures and burning competitive streaks, Lily and James will never get along. No matter how much others think they ought to.

Braid also by @ /ohmygodshesinsane

Sick and tired of revision, Lily gladly takes a distraction in the name of giving James Potter a helping hand.

Revenge Tastes Sweeter by @charmsandtealeaves

This by far had to be one of the more stupid things that Lily Evans had ever agreed to, and she’d gone along with a lot of her friends' bullshit ideas. She’d wanted to maintain her dignity in breaking up with her shit of an ex-boyfriend. However, fake dating James Potter hadn’t been in her grand plan of dignity. She’d merely been venting her frustrations to her dorm mates in the common room, she hadn’t expected advice and well… plotting. Though she should have expected better, these lot were always plotting something. Was it too late to just go with Dorcas’ “Stab him!” suggestion?

Simmer Until Ready by @kay-elle-cee

James Potter is not a healer. His is a potioneer—the Order of the Phoenix's lead potioneer, in fact. So when their top field fighter—Lily Evans—comes to him for treatment after a particularly rough mission, he helps the best way he knows how: a vial of freshly-brewed Skele-Gro and a dose of laughter.

Kels always writes the best order!jily

climb higher by penniesinthepool (on ao3)

It's been three (long) years since Lily and James have seen each other. Now, he's living out his dream playing Quidditch with Puddlemere United and she hers as an Auror.

They're happy. But fate (and annoying friends) works in funny ways, sometimes, and through a series of chance meetings, they begin to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be happier. My take on what would maybe happen in a universe where James wasn't Head Boy, taken to the extreme.

after O.W.L.s by @juniperpyre

a short snippet of James Potter's and Lily Evans' thoughts after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., and before the altercation with Severus Snape changes everything.

It was so close to going a better way

Haley's characterisations are always on point

”Just” Partners by @petalsthefish

James asks Lily what they are after a series of long and hidden snogs in dark corridors.

tied to you by @jjameslily

Lily’s foot sank into the damp earth as she stepped closer to the water’s edge. The lake mirrored the starry sky above, but something else caught her eye – a shape in the reflection.

James my sweet summer child, thank you for looking after her

Love for the Summer by @missgryffin

It's the summer after sixth year, Lily Evans is realizing she fancies James Potter, and James has Sirius Black's motorbike to thank for getting Lily out of the friend zone.

of hearts and keys by the_crownless_queen (on ao3)

In a world where magic means everyone can see your soul, Lily Evans wonders what it would feel like for someone she loves to open her heart.

Seven Years and Seventy More by surlybobbies (on ao3)

When James walked into the 7th year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory a few moonstruck minutes later, he found Sirius lying in bed with his hands folded across his stomach. “Been with Evans, then?” he asked, without lifting his head. There was a distinct note of disapproval in his voice.

James froze in the act of unwinding the scarf from his neck. “Er, yeah.”

“She doing well?” Remus asked from his bed, the closest one to the door. He had a book open on his lap but had lifted his gaze when James came in. His stare was steady and pleasant, but there was a sharpness behind it that put James on the defensive.

(James has some news.)

This Town Is Fake But You're The Real Thing by @tedwardremus

Teen radio star Lily Evans works for a show on the wizarding wireless network called, The Marauders. The teen soap drama stars James Potter as an arrogant school jock and centers on the secret adventures of his friends in the forbidden forest as illegal animagus and a werewolf. The show's antagonist, played by Severus Snape, left after a scandal, and now Lily has a romantic storyline with James in the final season of the show. Basically, her life is a disaster.

Prophecy by Alohaemora (on ao3)

Faint rays of sunlight began to filter into the nursery from the pink-red sky outside, the morning song of robins and thrushes lilting as all of Sirius's worst fears manifested before him, devastating in their might.

"Fuck," he whispered. A horrible, painful lump swelled in his throat, clawing, stinging. "Fucking hell."

The corners of Lily's lips trembled. "James didn't know how to tell you."

Not quite a jily fic but I wanted to share

not as smart as you think you are (or how to fall in love in 7 months) by Squidge_06 (on ao3)

Lily Evans has spent the past 6 years excelling at school and hating James Potter. Both these facts converge suddenly at the beginning of her 7th year when she’s confronted with a less than perfect grade and a Transfiguration tutor who is the very last person she wants to see.

That same person might just turn out to be a whole lot more complicated and just a little more wonderful than she could ever have imagined.

Meeting the Potters by FloreatCastellum (on ao3)

It's always a risk, introducing your parents to your girlfriend. Most people don't have to worry about whether or not their mother is going to be in handcuffs, though.

Mistle-Wow by LiveLaughLoveToRead (on ao3)

Lily and James Potters’ love was fiery, filled with passion, tragedy, and love. It was not a fast ignition of a flame that proceeded to burn bright. No, it was a flame that was lit on the Hogwarts Express before anyone had joined the compartment. It burned brighter as their years progressed, and it was lit ablaze in their seventh year. It burned until the day they died.

Or an incident that would have had Madam Pince seething (if they were caught)

Simple Math by yallofthemwitches (on ao3)

Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting.

#lily evans #james potter #james x lily #lily x james #jily #jple #jily fic rec list

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animesmolbean · 1 month

Text

Words Hold Power

An “The Umbrella Academy” fanfiction

Five x Reader

(Female)

Author's Note: Welcome to my The Umbrella Academy fanfiction! I'm so excited to share this story with you all! TUA is my favorite Netflix show! I'm very sad to see it's in its final season, but all great shows come to an end! But at least we'll get to rewatch it over and over again, lol.

Speaking of which, please, no spoilers for S4 since I have not watched it yet. I'll let you guys know where I am in S4 in coming posts.

With that said, I just wanted to tell you guys this. There was one hesitation I had with writing this story. Handling Viktor's character. I know about the journey of this character and Elliot Page's journey as well. I know about the transition, and I wanted to tell you how I planned on approaching this.

I did research on this topic and wanted to be sure I was handling it correctly. I researched how I should write transgender characters and their journeys throughout the story.

I also read other TUA fanfictions for research to see how other authors handle it, and like the research, it's a mixed bag. Some use Viktor only, and some show the name change.

After researching, I decided on an approach.

I will follow what the show does and show the transition story Viktor has. I chose this because I believe it's a beautiful journey, and the show does a great job handling the topic.

One last thing, all the main characters (The Hargreeves siblings) are aged up a little.

With all that said, I hope you enjoy the first chapter! ♥️

~Character Info~

Reader's ability is cursed speech. She can make anyone do what she says with only a few words. It's similar to Allison's, except she doesn't need to say certain words first like her, and her ability is much more powerful. To the point where she has to be extremely careful about what she says.

(As you can tell, this was inspired by the anime character, Toge Inumaki from Jujutsu Kaisen.)

Chapter 1: We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals (Family Reunion)

On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1985, forty-three women around the world gave birth.

This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women have been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them.

Many years later, the kids grew up and went on with their lives as adults.

There was Number One, aka Luther Hargreeves. Big, strong and was currently on the moon, studying and preparing for whatever his mission was.

There was Number Two, aka Diego Hargreeves. Impulsive, brave and works as a vigilante of sorts.

There was Number Three, aka Allison Hargreeves. Famous actress who was currently on the red carpet in front of paparazzi.

There was Number Four, aka Klaus. A lazy, free-spirited soul who is currently leaving rehab and using the money he got from the rehab to buy drugs. He ended up in the back of an ambulance.

And, there was Number Seven, aka Vanya Hargreeves. She was quiet, timid, and was currently leaving the theater after practicing her violin.

However, their lives would change forever with one broadcast.

Their father was now dead.

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

☂

Vanya rode a taxi to her childhood home. A place she lived for many years.

The Umbrella Academy.

A tall condo-like building with a black gate.

Vanya approached the building and opened the doors, whose windows were decorated by umbrellas.

The foyer was fancy still. The middle was open with a chandelier hanging above a small round table in the middle. Tall, smooth white beams holding the sides which held the second floor. A staircase that leads to that second floor was behind the small round table.

It was just as Vayna remembered it. Every little detail was still there.

“Hey, Mom.”

Vanya called to the woman in the living room. Said woman sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, which currently had a fire going. She stayed still as she stared into the dancing flames.

“Mom?”

“Vanya?”

A familiar voice turned Vanya’s attention elsewhere.

“You're actually here.”

She turned and saw her sister, Allison coming down the stairs.

“Hey, Allison.”

“Hey sis.”

Allison now stood before her sister. She chuckled and brought the other girl into a hug, which Vanya quietly but graciously returned.

“Ah. What is she doing here?”

A new voice spoke through the quiet foyer.

“You don't belong here. Not after what you did.”

It was Diego.

“You're seriously gonna do this today?” Allison spoke up, her tone telling that she wasn't in the mood for the male's attitude.

“Way to dress for the occasion, by the way.” She added, mocking Diego’s attire as he ascended the stairs. He was still in his “hero” gear; knives and everything.

“At least I'm wearing black.” Diego shot back nonchalantly as he turned left on the stairs, disappearing from the girls’ views.

Vanya, now uncomfortable, spoke up quietly, “You know what? I- Maybe he's right. And I shouldn't-”

“Forget about him.” Allison interrupted her. “I'm glad you're here.” She spoke softly. Vanya’s lips quirked up a little at Allison's words. The sisters shared a moment of silence.

☂

Diego arrived at his late father's room, to see Luther there checking the windows. He leaned against the doorframe.

“I can save you some time. They're all locked. No forced entry, no sign of struggle. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

As he spoke, he walked over to Luther who was also walking towards him.

“Oh, you got big, Luther. What's the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?” Diego asked mockingly.

“What do you want?” Luther asked, not wanting to deal with Diego's attitude.

Diego reached into his pocket and pulled out a few folded pieces of paper, handing them to Luther. “The autopsy report.”

After he teasingly tried to pull them away from Luther, the latter brother snatched them out of his hand.

“And you have this, why?” Luther asked.

“Well, that's because I… broke into the coroner's office.” Diego explained as he sat down in an armchair. “And surprise, surprise, Dad's death was… normal. Just a boring, old heart failure.”

“Yeah, so?” Luther looked at Diego.

“So, why are you in here, checking all the windows?”

“Were you the first one on the scene?” Luther asked.

“Pogo found him.” Diego answered.

“Yeah, I talked with Pogo. He said he couldn't find Dad's monocle.”

“And your point being?” Diego asked in a bored tone.

“Can you think of a single time you saw Dad and he wasn't wearing that monocle? No. Which means someone took it. Which means there's a chance he wasn't alone when he died.”

Diego sat up from the armchair. “There is no mystery here. Nothing to avenge. Nothing to solve, nothing like that. It's just a sad old man who kicked it in a big empty house. Just like he deserved.”

“You should leave.” Lither spoke, not liking Diego's tone with that last sentence he spoke.

“Whatever you say, brother.” Diego said in a mocking tone as he turned to leave. Before he did, he turned back to Luther. “By the way, did you visit (Your Name) yet?”

Luther shook his head. “No. I was about to, actually.”

“You know where she is.” Diego simply said.

☂

Vanya entered the living room, looking around at the interior. She spotted a comic and new articles on their group, The Umbrella Academy. She looked at the bookshelves and pulled out one book in particular.

The title read, “Extra Ordinary My Life as Number Seven”

It was her autobiography book. The one she wrote when she left the academy.

She observed it solemnly until a voice spoke out.

“Welcome home, Ms. Vanya.”

She turned and saw Pogo, a human sized monkey dressed formally with a cane and glasses.

Vanya walked over to him and hugged him. Pogo hugged back with a hum. “So good to see you.” He noticed the book in her hand. “Ah, yes, your autobiography.”

“Do you know, um…” Vanya paused before continuing. “Did he ever read it?”

Pogo thought for a moment before replying, “Not that I'm aware of.”

Vanya turned her attention to the portrait above the fireplace. It showed a boy, around seventeen in age, sitting with a neutral but sophisticated look on his face.

“How long has it been since Five disappeared?” She asked.

Pogo turned to look at the portrait too. “It's been sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days.” The two looked at each other. “Your father insisted I keep track.”

“And… how long has (Your Name) been in that coma?”

“Sixteen years, four months, and six days.” Pogo replied.

“You wanna know something stupid? I always used to leave the lights on for him. I was scared that he would come back, it would be late, and the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us, so he'd leave again. And he would take (Your Name) with him. So, every night I'd make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on.”

Pogo nodded. “Oh, I remember your snacks. I'm pretty sure I stepped in half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches, and those (Favorite type of Cookie) cookies.” He sighed a couple times before he spoke again, “Your father always believed that Number Five was still out there somewhere. He also believed that one day (Your Name) would wake up. He never lost hope.”

“And look where that got him.” Vanya said solemnly.

☂

Allison went up to her late father's study, looking around the area. The familiarity of it brought up a memory.

〰️

Reginald Hargreeves was working in his office, as usual, when Grace knocked on the door. She entered before closing the door.

“The children are ready for bed, sir. They wanted to say goodnight.”

She turned and walked a couple of paces and opened the sliding door.

On the other side revealed the eight children, all wearing matching pajamas. Allison was in the center while the others surrounded her. Little (Your Name) stood between her and Five, a black cloth face mask covering her mouth and nose.

The children were all smiling as they waited for their father to acknowledge them. But he was so into his work that he didn't even glance up at them.

Sensing the awkwardness, Grace quickly dismissed the kids. The kids, of course, were disappointed but not surprised. As they left slowly, (Your Name) tugged on Allison's sleeve, silently asking her to come.

“I'll be there in a minute (Your Name).” The girl whispered. (Your Name) tilted her head to the side. Allison spoke again, “Why don't you go hang out with Five for a bit before bed? I know you planned on it.” She gave the masked girl a small smile. (Your Name) felt her cheeks warm up, but she nodded, leaving and quietly walking over to Five. The boy saw her coming and, with a nod of his head, gestured to her to follow him. (Your Name) nodded and started to walk beside him. As she did, she heard Allison,

“He's always busy.”

〰️

“Where's the cash, Dad?”

The sound of a voice diverted Allison's attention and she walked over to her father's desk, hearing clamoring noises. She leaned forward to look to see who was over there.

“Klaus? What are you doing in here?” She asked.

Said boy looked up and gasped at the sight of his sister. “Oh! Allison! Wow, is that you?” He asked as he stood up. He embraced her slowly; Allison slowly returned the hug. “Long time. Too long.” He pulled away. “Hey, I was hoping to see you, actually, because I wanted to get your autograph. Add it to my collection!” He planted his chin onto his hands.

Allison let her brother act because it was how he always behaved when she noticed the white paper bracelet on his left wrist. “Just out of rehab?” She asked.

“No, no. No, no, no, no. No. I'm done with all of that.” Klaus replied with a sigh as he removed the bracelet. “I just came down here to prove to myself that the old man was really gone.” He smiled. “And he is! He's dead. Yeah!” He clapped, making Allison smile a little, shaking her head a bit.

“You know how I know? Because if he were alive, not one of us would be allowed to set foot in this room.” Allison silently agreed with Klaus.

“He was always in here, our whole childhood, plotting his next torment, right?” He said with a chuckle as he sat in the armchair behind the desk, putting his feet on the desk. “Remember how he used to look at us? That scowl?” He pointed to the man's portrait onto the wall behind him. “Thank Christ, he's not our real father, so we couldn't inherit those cold, dead eyes!” He stretched his eyelids to show more of his eyeballs. He fake screams, making Allison chuckle a little as Klaus started to dramatically imitate their late father.

“Get out of his chair.”

Klaus turned his head and saw Luther standing by the doorway. “Oh, wow, Luther! Wow, you really, uh… You really filled out over the years, huh?” Klaus said as he stood and flexed his arm muscles.

“Klaus.” Luther warned.

“Save the lecture. I was already leaving. You guys can talk amongst yourselves. I am going to visit (Your Name). Oh! The precious little sister of ours.” He chuckled softly. Before he could leave though, Luther stopped him. “Drop it.”

“Ex-squeeze me?” Klaus said.

“Do it. Now.” Luther ordered.

Klaus pulled his arm away from Luther and went back to the desk and started to empty out his pockets, which held a few of his late father's belongings. “It's just an advance on our inheritance! That's all it is!” Allison chuckled silently at her brother. “No need to get your little panties in a bunch.” With that, Klaus left, closing the door; leaving Luther and Allison alone in the room.

“So, Klaus is still Klaus, in case you are wondering.” Luther started.

“You know, after all these years, I find it strangely comforting.” Allison stated.

“Did you see Diego?” Luther asked.

“With his stupid outfit?” Allison added in amusement.

“Oh, I know. Do you think he wears that thing in the bathroom?” Lauther asked.

“Like in the shower?” Allison asked for confirmation.

“Yeah.” Luther confirmed.

“Yes, absolutely!” Allison laughed.

The two went on to talk about how their lives are going now that they are adults. Luther was the only one to stay while the rest went their separate ways. Their conversation ended talking about Allison's family and her powers.

〰️

A little later, everyone congregated in the living room. The fire was still going in the fireplace as everyone sat in silence.

Luther started talking about doing a memorial service for their late father. Some like Allison were mostly confused by this or making fun of it like Klaus.

“Is that my skirt?” Allison asked, noticing Klaus wearing a skirt now.

“Oh, yeah this. I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits.”

Luther stopped Klaus before he could go further and started to talk about their father's death. He had a theory that he didn't die simply of heart failure. He recounted how he was acting suspicious and requested Klaus to try to communicate with him. Klaus was not interested.

“I can't just call Dad into the afterlife and be like, “Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?”

“Since when? That's your thing.” Luther said.

“I'm not in the right… frame of mind.”

“You're high?” Allison asked, not surprised.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Klaus laughed. “I mean, how are you not listening to this nonsense?”

“Well, sober up, this is important.” Luther said.

Klaus only sighed.

When Luther started talking about the missing monocle, Diego concluded that Luther was suspicious of all of them, saying that Luther thought one of them killed their dad. This caused everyone to get upset. Diego insulted Luther's leadership, Klaus got up and jokingly said that he might as well go murder their Mom and (Your Name), unless she was already dead. Vanya left in silence and. Allison left in silence as well. Luther tried to defend himself, but it was too late.

They weren't always like this. When they were kids, they were tight knit.

〰️

17 YEARS AGO

“This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

The armed men surveyed the bank as they pointed their guns at the bound up hostages and pushed them behind the counter as they proceeded with the robbery.

Unexpectedly, a girl with curly black hair, in a school uniform and mask, walked casually to one of the robbers.

It was Allison.

“Hey, get back with the others.” The robber ordered the girl.

“I heard a rumor.” Allison spoke.

“What? What did you say?”

Allison leaned forward and used her ability, “I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot.”

The robber pointed his gun at one of his partners and promptly shot him in the foot, knocking him down. The hostages screamed at the sound of the gun.

Suddenly, someone, dressed in a boy's school uniform with a mask came crashing down from a window above and landed behind the counter. It was Luther. He punched one robber and threw him out the window with surprising strength.

Then, another kid dressed like Luther came from the other side of the bank. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He threw two long knives at one of the robbers only for them to redirect to another robber and immediately killed him.

There were now only two robbers left in the lobby.

One of them climbed onto the desk and pointed his gun shakily at the three kids. “Get back, you freaks.”

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” Diego, the knife throwing kid taunted.

“Get back now!”

“Wouldn't want you to get hurt.” Allison taunted as well.

“Or what?”

A fourth kid appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sitting criss cross on the desk. A taunting smirk on his face. This was Number Five.

The robber shot at Five, but he disappeared and reappeared on the other side. When the robber turned around and tried to shoot him again, he suddenly realized that he was not holding a gun.

“Ooh! That's one badass stapler!” Five taunted before smacking the guy's hand holding the stapler into his head. This knocked the robber over.

All they had to do now was get rid of the robbers in the vault.

Or so they thought.

There was one more.

He loaded his fun and his gun cocked, catching the kids off guard.

“Down you freaks!” He yelled.

Suddenly, running from a hidden place behind a wall was a fifth kid, dressed like Allison, as she pulled down her face mask. She directed her attention to the robber.

“Explode!”

The single word echoed loudly through the bank, and just before the guy could turn his gun to the girl, his body suddenly exploded, body parts, guts, and blood spreading out everywhere. The hostages screamed in fear. The girl quickly covered her face again, breathing heavily as she ran to her siblings.

She gestured to all of them. They couldn't see much of her face, but they could tell she was worried by the look in her eyes.

“We're okay. Thanks (Your Name).” Allison said.

(Your Name) hummed, nodding as she walked over to behind the desk with the others, while two more kids dressed like the rest of the boys joined them. Five looked at her. “That was pretty badass. Good work.” He complimented, giving her a smile. (Your Name) felt her cheeks warm up a little, and she tilted her head a bit and closed her eyes. Most people wouldn't be able to tell her expression behind the mask, but Five knew she was smiling at him in thanks.

“Do we really have to do this?” A meek voice asked.

“Come on, Ben. There's more guys in the vault.” Luther told the boy.

Ben sighed as he walked to the vault door. “I didn't sign up for this.”

He entered as the hostages all ran for their lives out of the bank. Inside the vault, the last of the robbers were eyeing slaughtered by Ben's ability. He screeched and roared as his tentacles ripped them apart and threw them against the walls. Blood splattered all over the windows.

Once it was quiet, Ben came out, covered in blood. “Can we go home now?” He asked, his breathing shaky.

It was time to leave.

The seven kids started walking towards the entrance of the bank. (Your Name) pulled out a small vial and turned the cap. She pulled the bottom part of her mask up and put the bottle to her lips. She tilted her head back and started swallowing the liquid. She finished it and placed the empty bottle back in her pocket.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Five's voice made (Your Name) turn to him. She nodded and hummed in thanks. Five offered his arm to her. “Ready?” He asked. The girl nodded again, and she hooked her arm with Five's. Five smiled at her, and they started walking after their siblings.

The seven kids emerged from the back as the news reporters pointed their cameras at the group, and they all clamored to try to talk to them.

Above on the top of a building nearby, stood Reginald Hargreeves, observing the other kids with a mini telescope. An eighth kid, dressed like Allison and (Your Name), minus the mask, stood next to him.

“Why can't I go play with the others?” The girl asked.

“We've been through this before, Number Seven. I'm afraid there's just nothing special about you.” Reginald said as he lowered his telescope.

The girl looked down. “Oh.”

Eventually, Reginald came down to stand with the children.

“Our world is changing. Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted seven such children.”

‘You mean eight.’ (Your Name) thought to herself as she looked down temporarily, her arm still linked with Five's.

“I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

Many news reporters asked many questions.

“What happened to their parents?” One asked.

“They were suitably compensated.” Reginald replied.

“Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?” Another asked.

“Of course. As I am for the fate of the world.” Reginald said.

〰️

☂

Everyone was in separate rooms, having their alone time after the little dispute from earlier. Klaus was still in the living room, trying to talk to their late father but he ended up knocking the vase filled with his ashes over.

Luther was walking through the hallways, reminiscing until he got to his room.

Allison was looking through her belongings until she found a gold heart locket with ‘A+L’ carved onto the front.

Klaus took the vase into the kitchen where he proceeded to take more pills.

Diego laid on the couch in the living room, playing with one of his knives.

Vanya sat on the stairs, a solemn look on her face.

Luther eventually found a familiar record and played it on the record player.

“I Think We're Alone Now” by Tiffany started to play.

Everyone heard the familiar tune all throughout the house and they all started to dance in their respective rooms.

Childhood nostalgia ran through their bodies as they all danced like no one was watching. Even Pogo moved a little to the beat.

But suddenly, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed.

The music stopped as the house reacted to the violent disturbance.

The siblings all ran to the courtyard and saw a giant hole, surrounded by blue lightning.

“What is it?” Vanya asked.

“Don't get too close!” Allison warned.

“Yeah, no shit.” Diego said.

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.” Diego insulted.

“Out of the way!” Klaus exclaimed as he came out with a fire extinguisher and tried to spray it but it was out of steam. So, he just threw it at the mysterious anomaly only for it to get sucked in.

“What is that gonna do?” Allison asked.

“I don't know. Do you have a better idea?” Klaus asked.

The anomaly got stronger and Luther ushered everyone behind him to protect them. Klaus wanted to run. Luther and Allison held hands.

The electrical crackling intensified and someone emerged from the anomaly, arms out. It disappeared and the person fell out of the sky and landed on the ground. The sky cleared up as the siblings walked towards the person, who stood up. He was dressed in a suit way too big for him.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus asked.

The boy known as Five looked at himself then back at the siblings.

“Shit.”

☂

The six were now in the kitchen. Five was busy making a sandwich while the others watched in shock.

“What's the date? The exact date.” Five asked.

“The 24th.” Vanya replied.

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Luther spoke up. “So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Five didn't reply. He just continued with making his sandwich.

Silence fell for a couple of seconds until Luther stood up. “It's been seventeen years.”

Five scoffed. “It's been a lot longer than that.” He blinked over to the cabinet.

“I haven't missed that.” Luther muttered.

“Where'd you go?” Diego asked.

“The future. It's shit, by the way.” Five replied as he blinked back to the table.

“Called it.” Klaus said.

“I should've listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” Five looked up at the siblings. “Nice dress.” He told Klaus.

“Oh, well, danke!” Klaus said, playing with the article of clothing.

“Wait, how did you get back?” Vanya asked.

“In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.” Five explained.

“That makes no sense.” Diego spoke up.

“Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five sasses.

Diego stood up to confront the boy but Luther stopped him, holding him back.

“How long were you there?” He asked.

“Forty-one years. Give or take.”

Luther and Diego sat back down. “So what are you saying? That you're fifty-eight?” The former asked.

Five looked at Luther. “No, my consciousness is fifty-eight.” He finished his sandwich. “Apparently, my body is now seventeen again.”

“Wait, how does that even work?” Vanya asked.

“Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh.” Five took a bite out of his sandwich. “Bet she's laughing now.”

Vanya was confused. “Delores?”

Five ignored her and looked at the newspaper that told him about Reginald Hargreeves’ death. “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How'd you know about that?” Luther asked.

“What part of the future do you not understand?” Five asked. “Heart failure, huh?”

“Yeah.” “No.” Diego and Luther said together.

Five hummed before clicking his tongue. “Nice to see nothing's changed.” Then, he got a good look at his siblings again. He realized that one was missing. “By the way, where's (Your Name)?”

The other five siblings looked at each other, solemn expressions on their faces now. “Well…” Vanya started. “There isn't an easy way to say this.” Allison said. “She's in a coma.” “She's dead.” Klaus and Diego finished. “Diego!” Allison scolded.

Five looked at his siblings, a subtle look of worry on his face, but on the inside, his heart was beating faster. “What happened?”

“Well…. like I said… this isn't easy to say.” As Allison tried to explain, they suddenly heard soft footsteps approaching the kitchen. They slowly turned their heads and what they saw shook them to the core.

There stood…

(Your Name).

Klaus yelled in surprise.

“Holy shit.” Diego said.

Everyone else looked in surprise.

(Your Name) was alive.

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua season one #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #five x reader #five x y/n #five x you #tua five #tua fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

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lovelookspretty · 1 month

Text

not so bad

college!rafe cameron x reader au

— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.

warning(s): party time, cute little moments between rafe n y/n, y/n jealous for a split sec !

authors note: sorry for the late update, ive adapted to writing only like once a day and yesterday i uploaded a rafe smut !! check it out if ud like

you turn the page to your book quietly, your fist pushed up against the side of your face. you’re sitting in the quiet sanctuary of the school library, your fingers tracing the page of the book you’re reading. aria is off somewhere grabbing another book for her class.

suddenly, a voice interrupts the silence, causing you to jump in your seat. you look up to find rafe and lorenzo standing beside on the opposite end of the table, a mischievous glint in rafe’s eyes while lorenzo flashes you a playful grin.

“what are you reading?” rafe asks, as he sits down in the seat across from you. lorenzo rounds the table and takes the chair beside you.

you blink in surprise, just a little taken aback by their sudden appearance. you have to quickly compose yourself, and you offer them a polite smile as you glance down at your book.

“just revisiting an old favorite,” you answer, and you close the book to show them its cover.

lorenzo snaps his fingers when he recognizes it. “ohh, ‘to kill a mockingbird’! i know this one—a classic,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone. “isn’t this the one with the courtroom drama and the scout kid?”

you chuckle, nodding in confirmation. “yeah, that one,” you tell him, and you feel excited to talk about the book with someone who understands that you sit up in your chair, “you know, it’s about so much more than just the trial though. it’s about growing up, facing prejudice, and standing up for what’s right.”

lorenzo raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “sounds heavy,” he comments with a nod, “but speaking of heavy, have you ever read ‘moby-dick’?”

“alright that’s enough,” rafe says as he waves his hands to grab yours and lorenzo’s attention. “we have to get to class. it starts in a few. lorenzo, come on.”

lorenzo looks to you and smiles like he’s sorry you guys can’t discuss further, but you shake your head like you’re telling him that it’s okay.

you watch as rafe rises from his seat and he pulls up his sleeves. you send him a small smile, a bit regretful for not saying hello to him when they first sat down. he only pulls on a smile back at you.

lorenzo joins his friend across the table but before they leave, rafe grips the back of the chair he was sitting in and he leans forward. “i’ll see you on friday, yeah? the party?” he asks, and for a moment you search your mind about this ‘party’ but you can’t remember. “you saw my messages right? from this morning?”

you didn’t. you haven’t. this whole morning you’ve been sitting in the library to study for your upcoming exams.

but it’s october. just less than two weeks away from halloween. it must be for that.

you nod, so rafe and lorenzo begin to leave the area when they know you’re going.

“bring your friend too,” he adds as he’s walking backward, and you raise your eyebrows with a smile and a nod, trying to pick up the appearance that you know what exactly he’s talking about and that you’ll do exactly that. rafe turns back around and leaves to go through the library doors.

your mind is just reeling with conflicting emotions. before you know it, your phone lights up from inside your bag that you kept beside you. it’s stacked with your belongings (on top is your jacket) so that it’s easier for you to see when you get a notification.

you pick up your phone, reading the message in your head from aria.

‘ you guys are so cute!! ’

you drop your phone and look up to the second floor of the library. aria is leaning over the railing and staring right back at you with a grin from ear to ear. you sigh and text back:

‘ yea okay stop laughing because ur going w me to the party this friday apparently ’

you look up and watch aria. she checks her phone, her smile fading as soon as she reads your message. she peers over her phone and over to you with a pleading look.

pursing your lips, you shake your head to say ‘no’. there’s no way you’re going to a party without her.

you almost didn’t have costumes to wear until elara brought you both to go shopping away from the guys.

as lorenzo’s car pulls up to the frat house, you notice that the thumping bass of the music can be heard from down the block. you glanced over at aria, who’s sitting nervously in the backseat with you and rafe, her hands folded tightly in her lap. you decided to sit in the middle so it isn’t awkward for her.

you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your friend, knowing how out of her element aria must be feeling. you shoot her a reassuring smile and squeeze her hand before turning your attention to rafe.

he looks at you when he noticed you’ve turned back to him, and he smiles. you send him a quick wink.

once lorenzo’s parked the car, he announces, “we’re here.” he turns off the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, facing the group in the backseat of his car with a mischievous look. “are you ready to have some fun?��

after you’ve climbed out of the car and make your way toward the frat house, you notice the energy pulsing through the air. there’s excitement, there’s buzz. the front lawn is packed with students laughing and talking, all in different costumes, while the sound of music blares from inside.

upon entering, you find yourself swept up in the chaos of the party. you stick close to rafe and aria specifically, feeling grateful for their reassuring presence amidst all of the unfamiliar faces. as you make your way through the crowd, you marvel at the sights and sounds around you.

“you doing alright?” rafe shouts over the music, his voice barely audible above the din.

you grin, nodding. “yeah, so far,” you reply, but you’re half-joking. your heart is pounding, and what makes it worse is rafe sending a small smirk toward you as he nods back.

meanwhile, aria hovers nervously at your side, her eyes wide with apprehension. she’s taking in the scene around her and she clings to you like a lifeline.

as rafe leads you and aria into the kitchen, the energy of the party seemed to amplify. the smell of alcohol and sweat mingled with the beat of the music. it was all so overwhelming. aria swears she can throw up right now without having to consume any alcohol.

you glance around the room, your eyes immediately drawn to lorenzo and elara who are bound together near the kitchen island. lorenzo is already at the center of attention, holding court as he pours shots with a grin. elara stands beside him, her laughter ringing out above the noise of the party.

as you and the two approach, you feel a knot form in your stomach. you tighten your grip on aria’s hand, silently urging your friend to stay close.

“i don’t wanna stay too late,” rafe tells lorenzo, who nods.

“me either. i have a class early in the morning and i’ve barely been able to get eight hours lately,” he agrees.

“do you like vista heights?” elara’s in the middle of asking aria when you turn your attention to them. you can tell aria’s a little nervous, but even elara helps her calm down.

“you two drink?” lorenzo asks you and aria. he’s holding two cups in front of him that he’s offering, and you look to aria briefly before shrugging.

“i’ll try whatever.”

as the night unfolds, the group shifts from the kitchen to the living room. you’re dancing between elara and rafe, but face the boy whose cowboy hat is nearly falling.

from all the alcohol, you’re buzzing. you take rafe’s hat off his head and place it on yours, earning a laugh from him.

“i’m surprised you’re not a lightweight,” he says.

you tilt your head at him like you’re surprised that he thinks that. “i’m surprised you are?” you return to him, and he nudges your body with his. “i feel like i spend no time with you anymore. we need to hangout more often!”

“i’m free any afternoon!” he tells you. “just text me. i’ve been meaning to ask you if you wanted to go fishing with me. remember? like home.”

you smile up at him as you nod, “that would be fun.” you remember all the days you’ve been out fishing with your family, but never rafe. you wonder what it would be like to do that.

“you’re something else, you know that?” he says out of the blue, his tone laced with amusement. “that since we had that debate the other day.”

you squint your eyes at him in question.

“since the first day of third grade.”

you blink in surprise, unsure of how to respond. you’re pulling our of your thoughts—literally—when aria and elara grab you to dance with them. you glance back at rafe in worry but he’s occupied with lorenzo now, who’s chatting up a storm.

his eyes are on you as far as you can see and it’s actually nice. but your focus is on the girls.

“i’m so glad you guys came,” elara says, holding aria’s hand and spinning her in a circle. “this party would be so lame without you guys!”

“i’m never coming to one of these ever again!” aria’s filled with energy and a beaming smile despite her words, and you can’t help but laugh. you have to respect it; parties are just not her thing.

“you look so good though!” elara compliments as aria twirls on her own to show off her ruffled dress, and elara woos her.

“hey, hey, hey!” lorenzo sings as he dances over to you three, and he settles next to elara who wraps her arms around his neck and dances with him.

you look up to check up on both boys, wondering if they’re coming over to dance together. but rafe is nowhere to be found. it’s just lorenzo.

“where’s rafe?” your thoughts seem to come out of your mouth as you lean forward, and you grab lorenzo’s attention.

“i don’t know. upstairs,” he answers before continuing to dance with elara.

your gaze darts over to the stairs that are behind the couple, and you spot him in his stupid costume walking up the steps. you’re relieved to know that he’s okay, that maybe he’s just searching for the bathroom.

but the thing that surprises you is that he’s holding some girls hand as he walks. some girl in a dress.

who in the fuck?

@svnsetcrve @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @lalalalala33 @darkcolorexpert @babyflockaaaa @lifeofleasaasa @ilyrafe @mkiverd @wxn-drlst @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @thepopcultureaddict @mounthings @mfcouture @ijustwanttoreadlols

#rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #drew #drew starkey #drew starkey concept #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine

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fiabex · 2 months

Text

Fic In A Box 2024

Schedule

August 9-16: Nominations Pre-Gaming (participants can load tags from last year’s tagset into this tagset)

August 17: Tag Nominations Open

August 24: Tag Nominations Close

August 25-26: Nominations Cleanup

August 27: Signups Open

September 1: Swap requests open

September 7: Signups Close

September 10: Assignments Out By This Date

September 11: Swap requests close

October 20: Assignments Due

October 27: First Extension Due Date

November 3: Final Extension Due Date

November 10: Last Day To Submit Makeup Assignments

November 16: Work Reveals

November 30: Creator Reveals

All times 10pm Eastern

What is Fic In A Box

A gift exchange is an event where participants create fanworks to gift to each other. Fic In A Box is a fanwork exchange with a large minimum gifting requirement and several unique features. Gifts can include fic, art, audio, video— and much much more.

How It Works/The Nitty-Gritty:

All participants in Fic In A Box are requesting 10,000 words of fanfiction by default, but can opt in to other mediums to give their gifter options. Mediums can include writing structure things like "in-world rpf" for your gift, or include creative formats as far away from fic as different types of art, knitting patterns, logic puzzles, and so on. There were 288 mediums to choose from last year, and we add more every year.

For mediums other than the written word, pretty much any medium will be accepted, as long as it can be digitized for delivery and we can agree on a clear and easily checked equivalent to 1k of written fic. Participants who primarily work in non-writing mediums are very welcome and will get specially matched (as long as they give the mods a heads-up) so they'll have an assignment they can complete. If your art form is fannish cross-stitch? We'd love to have you join us.

Participants have the option to split the 10k words (or equivalent in an opted-into medium) that they owe between several separate works (say, one fic of 3k and a another of 7k) to reach 10k total. The minimum word count per work is 1k by default, but lower wordcount works will count if your recipient has opted into receiving them. (Drabble is a medium that can be opted into!) And initial assignments are 10k for one person, but at the start of the exchange the mods run Swaps which will give you the chance to split that 10k into multiple shorter assignments for multiple recipients!

So when it comes time to turn in gifts, you might turn in 3k worth of art, 4k in fic, and 3k in typesetting a fic (10k total), and then you receive 8k of fic and 2k of map design (10k total). Last year 265 people signed up, and we exchanged 993 gifts at the end of the creation period, everything from fic to reddit posts to logic puzzles to museum catalogues to CYOA stories to colouring pages!

If you cannot complete the full 10k (or other medium equivalent) but are still able to post one or more smaller, complete works, you can default on just the remaining wordcount. You will then be guaranteed (via finding a back up gifter-- "pinch hitting"-- if necessary) a gift equivalent to the amount you were able to submit (rounded down to the nearest 1k). There are also options to "earn back" guaranteed minimum amount by taking pinch hits or completing your original assignment.

Questions?

For more information about Medium rulesets, signing up, nominations of fandoms, relationships, or medium forms, swaps, or much more (questions about how pinch hits work? we have documentation about that), check out the dreamwidth blog!

If you have questions, feel free to ask them here, check the dreamwidth blog for much more documentation, email the mods, or join our discord server. The discord server has a lot of experienced participants happy to answer questions, and you are also welcome to join just to hang out!

Note: you must be 18 or older to join FIAB.

Links

Email: [email protected]

Ao3 Collection (sign up here once signups open)

Tag Set

Dreamwidth Blog

Discord (includes question channel)

#fandom exchange #Ao3 exchange #ao3 #fandom #fandom things #fic in a box #fiab

184 notes · View notes

totaly-obsessed · 10 months

Note

can you write for katie where her and reader have a child and readers admiring them playing together

Mo Stór

Katie McCabe x reader

-> Watching Katie play with your daughter will never get old

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

People could say all they wanted about Katie on and off the pitch, and no matter what she did there would always be someone who would not like her – so she gave up on getting people to like her and just started being herself.

That’s why you fell in love with her all those years ago. It was so easy to fall in love because the Irish woman was just so lovable.

When the then twenty-two-year-old had returned from her loan spell to Glasgow City, she was a changed woman – more mature with more bite and goals in life as she returned to Arsenal, and you. You, her girlfriend since 2015 – but that title would not hold much longer, because upon returning, Katie proposed to you.

It was a lovely day in – you had woken up together and prepared a nice brunch before going for a walk outside. It was as romantic as Katie would get, still keeping her humor that had won you over in the first place – handing you a ring-pop at first before pulling out the real one.

The wedding was small but everything both of you wanted, taking place in Katie's hometown of Tallaght where you had set up in a stunning barn. The footballer’s entire family was there, as were most of the Arsenal girls that could make it – for you however, there were just a couple of friends that had come.

Same-sex marriage had only been legal for two years in Ireland It was after the wedding that it would be legalized in Germany where you were from. And while your parents were not necessarily against it, they also weren’t fans of it – opting not to make an appearance.

Later in the year, in October 2017, after many conversations you had started the first round of IVF, thankful for the chance of having a baby together. And to everybody’s surprise, it worked. The first round worked. Both of you were incredibly happy and after a hard pregnancy, Aine Lily McCabe joined your little family in July of 2018.

---

Now in 2023, the five-year-old was still the light of your life – making every single day better than it already was. You thought life couldn’t get better after Katie, but you were wrong, Aine made life just a little more colorful.

With Katie being a footballer, her schedule could be crazy, but your teacher lifestyle came with a very consistent week, which made everything much easier, there always would be difficulties - like on that particular day. Aine’s Kindergarten was closed due to sickness, but you had to work – leaving Katie with her spitting image at the Arsenal training grounds.

You had been scared that the day would end in a catastrophe, but the girls loved ‘their youngest member’ and Jonas was happy to have her as well as she was a nice distraction from the serious topics and hard training.

After finishing for the day, instead of heading home, you opted for the Arsenal Training Center, desperate to see your girls after a long day. Once parked, you didn’t even need to check inside, hearing the girls yell from the pitch – so you just followed their noise.

It was now the midst of October and the Arsenal girls were preparing for their game against Aston Villa. You could see your breath due to the cold, as you walked the way to the pitch. It was chaotic, and the girls were playing matches on smaller fields, with fewer people – but there were 2 games at the same time.

You could see Aine sitting on a jacket by the side of the pitch, a beanie much too big to be her own, on her little head, hiding her brown hair. She was dressed appropriately in a warm sweater, with a big jacket on top, not even remotely cold as you shivered on your way. Pulled over her jacket was a bright yellow bib, that marked one team from the other. And after a glance, your guess was confirmed, that Katie was also wearing yellow.

“Hiya baby!” The little brunette squealed as you plucked her off the ground, swinging her back and forth before sitting down with her on your lap. “Mommy!” Wet kisses were littered all over your face – something else that she copied from her mother. “I missed youuu!” She sang the last ‘u’ while pouting adorably. “Missed ya too baby.”

A shrill whistle marked the end, two sets of women cheering in victory, as the opposing teams looked disappointed. It didn’t take your wife long to join you, taking her biggest fan out of your arm, and settling her on her hip, before pulling you up by your hands. You couldn't even register anything as fast as she had already roped you into a deep kiss, as Aine hid her face in Katie's neck. “Come on a stór – show me watch ya got.”

Katie had taken her little stór, her treasure with her, setting her down and explaining where to steal a ball from, when a long, lanky arm found its way around your shoulders. Viv was smiling at you, giving you a quick hug, before Beth could get there first. “What a bad wife you have – doesn’t even give you a jacket.”

The three of you chuckled as you pushed the blonde off, picking up Katie's discarded jacket from the ground, and pulling it over your own. It was nice to chat with them even if you saw them just a couple of days ago – there was always new gossip to gather. The whole team was obsessed with your student's gossip – and while you would never tell important or confidential stuff, the ‘who-loves-who’ was very interesting to the footballers.

“Oh, look at Aine go!” It was Alessia who made you look back to your daughter. The five-year-old was sprinting down the pitch, Kyra by her side as Katie was ‘trying’ to defend the goal where Sabrina jumped from left to right. The Australian passed Aine the ball, who just stretched her leg out and it went in. Leaving a stunned Katie and Sabrina.

Loud cheers made your daughter shy, as Kyra picked her up, throwing her in the air and catching her again. The brunette walked over to her mom, hiding in her legs, with a broad smile on her face. “Mama, I made it!” Your wife could not help but laugh “You did baby, but right now, I’m your opponent, not your friend, right?” She had crouched down by now, wiping some dirt off your daughter’s face. “No, you are Mama. My Mama.”

Meanwhile, you stood at the side of the pitch, staring at your gorgeous wife and daughter. Viv and Beth were quite amused at your speechlessness. “Recon if they were alone Mrs. McCabe would jump her bones right here and now.” You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you looked at your friend. “Beth!” The couple walked away chuckling to themselves.

You had not moved an inch, watching Katie kick the ball at Aine, who sent it back to her. It was adorable. Whenever a ball went to wide, Katie would run after it, reassuring her daughter that she did a great job. Big smiles on both their faces. Smiles that looked almost identical.

Katie was so incredibly great with Kids, that it made you cry sometimes. She would always make time for the little girls and boys who wanted her attention or signature, even if she was already late. She really listened to them, getting on their level, meeting their eyes, and never took them as too young or inexperienced when she talked about something serious. Katie took the time to explain, helping your daughter with homework when you were just too tired.

Your wife by now had noticed your starring, a smirk on her face as she sent Aine to go with Kyra to the changing rooms. Your daughter abruptly took the Australian's hand, tugging her with her. Once Katie stood in front of you, she covered your very cold ears with her warm hands, giving you a passionate kiss after making sure that you were the last ones outside. “What are ya starring at, lovie?”

The smile on your face was love-drunk, and Katie loved it. “I want another one.” You had buried your head in her neck, trying to hide your hot face – but she quickly nudged you out of it. “Huh? Repeat that for me, my love.”

Her smirk was unbearable to look at, as hot as it was. “Could’ve sworn ya said you want another one.” Your nod was enough to earn you another searing kiss that left you breathless. “I really do Katie. Do you- I mean do you want another one?”

“Mama! Kyra stole my shoeeee!” Your wife pressed her forehead against yours, keeping you close. “We’ll talk about it when we get home, yeah?”

“Kyra! Give it baack! Mama!” Apparently, Aine had found herself a big sister in the Australian who was standing in the hallway, holding a tiny shoe in her hand, pretending to throw it outside. “I’m coming mo stór!”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mc cabe x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe

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cillianhead · 11 months

Note

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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radioactiveparker · 5 months

Text

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Chapter Summary - We begin to learn the truth about why these kids are the way they are. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / Kleptomania / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Drug References / Stereotyping / Angst

Word Count - 7.2k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

-----

Saturday.

October 25th, 1984.

Hawkins High Library.

10:30am.

~~~~~

After that rather thrilling event courtesy of Eddie Munson and Principal Higgins, the next two hours went on forever.

The grinding of gears, the hum of the electric motor, and the movement of the clock's hands invaded the silence. The second hand made a rapid clicking sound. You counted each one. At twenty-second intervals, the minute hand squeaked. The clock sounds became the percussion for a lullaby that almost lulled you to sleep.

Eddie remained seated next to you, spending the better part of an hour sulking that he had just wrecked the rest of his winter. The rest of the time, he spent scratching markings into the table with his car keys (which you immediately told him to stop out of annoyance. He ignored you, of course) and counting all the pictures he can see in the medullary rays of the wood. In his mind, he connected the lines and dots. Before his eyes, they formed the crude outline of a shapely woman with her legs rudely spread apart. He used the notebook paper to cover it up. He did not want to spend the next five and a half hours with a boner he couldn't get rid of. Especially one given to him by something as ridiculous as an imaginary table lady.

Steve was lazily picking off the fuzz of a tennis ball that he found in the lost and found box behind the front desk, piling it up in a small illuminous heap. The bald patches reminded him of principal Higgin's round, balding head. He picked at it harder, really digging his fingernails into the stringy felt like it had personally offended him.

Nancy was trying to write her paper. Normally, the undisturbed silence would be prime time to work on an essay, but she began staring off into space, her mind wondering. All she had managed to write was a title 'Who Am I?', her name, the date, and the time. Each time she would bring herself back to reality, she would check her watch, then erase the time and write the new one.

Robin was hunched over, hidden in her hair as she scribbled over her cherry red converse. She wrote whatever came to mind; her name, milk duds, a drawing of the top half of a naked woman, a copy of her fingerprint. She kept going until the red had almost disappeared.

You rested your head in your palms, eyes looking up as you counted the tiles on the ceiling. You got to thirty eight when Eddie nudged you. You opened your mouth to scold him for making you lose count, when he slid a sheet of paper over to you. He'd drawn a tic-tac-toe grid and placed an X in the centre square. You grabbed a pencil and drew a circle in the top right corner, deciding to keep him entertained before he starts causing more trouble. He smiled cutely when you slid the paper back to him.

The two of you played until both sides looked like a gingham tea towel. Much to your distaste, you lost 38 - 43. Eddie pulled tongues as the victor and you decided then to never play tic-tac-toe with Eddie again; you didn't want his head getting bigger than it already was.

The library door swung open and Principal Higgins stood with a scowling face.

"All right. Who has to go to the rest room?"

All hands shot up.

Higgins gave a single nod, signalling that everyone could get out of their seats. You groaned in relief when your spine cracked, though you still had pins and needles in your left foot and your butt was numb from sitting on it for too long. The Principal lead you all down the hall to the restrooms, where he unlocked them with a jingling of keys.

"Two minutes for the boys. Three minutes for the girls." He stared at his watch like he was already starting the count down.

"How come they get an extra minute?" Eddie complained, pointing at the group of girl who all had their arms crossed, looking at him like the answer was obvious.

"Try and remember your biology, Munson." Principal Higgins rolled his eyes, still staring at his watch.

"Oh, right. Does that mean Harrington gets another minute?"

Annoyed, Steve pushed through into the bathroom. Eddie followed behind, laughing manically.

The two of them rarely used the schools restroom, even for Eddie who was kind of a slob, they were too disgusting. Students only ever really used them to hide when skipping classes. The walls were covered in graffiti and a few of the tiles were cracked, and there was always something on the floor that made the bottom of their shoes sticky. They didn't even want to try to guess what it was. Steve stood in front of the urinal and unzipped his jeans. Eddie hopped onto the countertop and fished through his hair to retrieve the cigarette from behind his ear.

"You want one?"

Steve took a peek behind him. "Oh yeah, ten of 'em please. I need to prove I'm a man."

"Whatever man." That was the last time Eddie would offer Steve anything ever again.

He fumbled in his pocket, took out a lighter and lit his cigarette.

Meanwhile, the state of the girls bathroom wasn't much better. The floors were less sticky, but there was always tissue all over the place, and a funny smell in the air.

"Is this a drag, or what?" You looked at your tired eyes in the reflection and started complaining about them to the girls.

Nancy rummaged through her purse, pulling out perfume bottles, make-up, compacts, brushes; an incredible amount of things that she probably didn't need. Nancy very helpfully let you borrow the make-up out of her bag. You were looking as good as new in no time.

"You want one?" Robin pulled out a pack of spearmint gum and stuck one in her mouth.

You looked at her repulsed. "Robin, you can't eat in the bathroom. What if you get VD of the mouth or something!"

She paused like she hadn't thought about that. She quickly walked to the sink and washed her hands. She grabbed a paper towel to dry them and then used it to open the door. She held the door open with her foot, wadded up the paper towel and made a three pointer into the waste bin. A shot that even Steve would find impressive, even if she did surprise herself making it in the first place. She didn't show that though.

"You're into washing your hands, but you eat inches away from a live toilet?"

She gave you an offended glare her, and left the bathroom, letting the door close on you and Nancy. You turned to Nancy and gave her a look that said 'I'm not crazy for thinking that am I?'.

"I mean that was a little disgusting, but you could have worded it a bit nicer."

She walked out, leaving you wondering whose side she was on.

"I didn't mean to upset you." You called after Robin. "I was just reacting to something I thought was seriously weird. I mean, I'll listen if you needed some one to talk to about it."

Robin didn't give you the time of day, just rolled her eyes to herself. She didn't appreciate the way you worded your apology; like she was the one with the problem.

"Let's go. Shake it off!" Higgins called into the boys bathroom.

Even with the extra minute you were given, the girls still managed to be done before the boys. Eddie opened the door, smelling strongly of tobacco.

"Where's Harrington?"

"Drowned." Eddie said bluntly.

The Principal crossed to the door and peaked his head in. "Alright, Harrington, c'mon. Lets go!"

Steve made a few final adjustments to his hair, raking his fingers through it to position his chestnut curls perfectly on his head. Principal Higgins dragged him out before he could finish.

~~~~~

11:30am

~~~~~

You laid across three chairs as some sort of make shift bed and tucked your coat underneath your head for a pillow. You had planned to take a nap, but Nancy had decided to sharpen her pencil. The winding and grinding of the sharpener grated your ears. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn't seem to get a good point on her pencil. She took it out of the sharpener, blew the dust from the tip, and examined it before shoving it back in. She had three quarters left of her pencil.

Steve had a straight leg on the front table and reached over to touch his toes, stretching his hamstring. How he did it in those jeans was beyond you. His little grunts of effort and heavy breaths as he switched legs annoyed you almost as much as Nancy's sharpening. Robin was in her same seat, picking at her black, chipped nails in her lap and chewing her gum loudly out of spite. How you had gone from sitting in hours of silence, to a sudden ruckus when you wanted to sleep was just your luck.

Eddie had chosen to sit in front of you on the table, ripping out pages of textbooks from the history section.

Nancy winced at each tear. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Princess? I'm vandalising public property." He said it like it was obvious, loudly ripping another page to emphasise his point. "You get off on being stupid, or something?"

"You're such a waste."

Eddie placed the book gently on the table, giving it a few taps for good measure. He sat up straight, hands on his knees like a teachers pet. He nodded sarcastically in agreement. "You're absolutely right. It's wrong to destroy literature. It's such fun."

He jumped down off the desk, kicking up loose pages as he stalked over to his next victim: the card files. He pulls out the entire draw completely and lugged it back over to his spot on the desk. The unexpected slam of it on the table startled you, and you sat up with a huff. There was no way you were getting sleep any time soon.

Nancy scoffed as he began yanking the catalogue cards out and putting them back in a random order, creating a horrible mess for someone to sort out later. She continued to grind the sharpener.

"Big deal." You mocked her, she and the sharpener were really starting to get on your nerves. "It's not like there's anything better to do."

Eddie was impressed. He turned to you. "You grounded tonight?"

His question threw you off, but you knew there was definitely more to it. "No, why?"

He looked surprised that you weren't, but he didn't know that your parents weren't even aware you were here in the first place. "Reefer Rick is throwing a Halloween party down by Lover's Lake tonight. Wanna come?"

Apparently, all it took was a few games of tic-tac-toe to get into Eddie's good books. There was a part of you that wanted to go. It was another excuse to get away from your parents, but you didn't want to imagine the shit you would get from Carol if she found out you had gone to a party with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. Then Billy crept back into your mind. Your blood went cold at the thought. You knew he wasn't here, but you expected him to come charging through the doors any second now. You had to make sure he knew you weren't interested in Eddie. You didn't want another repeat of this morning.

"Why would I want to go to that crackhead's place? I'll probably catch a disease."

Eddie looked a little disappointed and a little offended that you had insulted his friend, but he hid it well. So why did you feel kind of bad?

You looked up at him with big eyes. "I mean, my mom doesn't like me going to parties anyway."

"What about your dad?"

"If I do what my mom doesn't want me to it's because my dad says it's okay. And if I do what my dad doesn't want me to it's because my mom says it's okay. It's like this whole big monster deal. It lasts forever and it's a total drag. It's like any minute: divorce." You hated talking about your parents, but I felt good to get off your chest. Carol and Tommy never cared to ask.

"Who do you like better?"

"Huh?"

"You like your old man better than your mom?"

"They're both screwed." You sighed. You didn't like where this conversation was headed anymore. Nancy had stopped sharpening her pencil and you could feel everyone listening in.

"If you had to pick?"

"I don't know. I mean, they must have loved each other at some point, but I guess I wasn't around for that part. So I don't think any of them really care about me either. They just use me as ammunition in their little wars."

"HA!" Your response had provoked a laugh from Robin. A laugh that let you know she thought you deserved it. She was more offended by that comment in the bathroom than you had thought.

"You're just feeling sorry for yourself." Steve added, shaking out his legs.

You didn't find it very fair that they were ganging up on you all of a sudden. "If I didn't, nobody else would."

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." But Steve didn't sound sincere at all. You weren't enjoying this side of Steve one bit. And it was all because of Billy.

"Do you get along with your parents?" Eddie sided with you.

"If I say, yes, I'm a real idiot, right?"

"I think you're an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, you'll be a liar, too."

"You know something, I've just about had it with you. If we weren't in school, man, I'd wail all over you. They'd have to pick you up with tweezers."

Eddie didn't seem fazed. Eddie got threats like this all the time, it wasn't anything he hadn't already heard before.

"I don't really get along with my parents." Nancy piped up, trying to get the boys attention away from each other so there wasn't a brawl in the middle of the library.

"Yeah right, you're every parent's wet dream."

"That's the problem." She paused, you saw her eyes glaze over then looked at you. "I don't think my parents ever loved each other either."

Everyone was silent, looking at her like they were waiting for her to burst into tears. She regretted bring it up.

"They must have married for some reason?" Steve asked. Whether it was because he was being nosey, or he was concerned for her, you couldn't tell.

"My mom was younger. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family."

"Screw that."

"Yeah, screw that."

"I could see you not liking them for making you wear those kind of clothes, but, shit, what else would you be doing if you weren't busy making yourself a better citizen?" Eddie clearly hadn't read the room.

"Why do you have to insult everybody?" Eddie was really pushing Steve's limits. You noticed it happened especially when it came to Nancy.

"I'm being honest, asshole. I'd expect you to know the difference." He said it like he had had a similar argument with Steve in the past.

Nancy raised her middle finger at him.

"Whoa, obscene gestures from such a pristine girl."

"I'm not that pristine." Nancy argued, though she regretted it almost immediately.

She cleared her throat and make her way back to her seat.

"Are you a virgin?" She caught Steve's eye, they shared a look, but Eddie missed it. "I'll bet you a million dollars that you are."

"Would you take that bet, Robin?"

"Not really."

"That's the last time I call you 'Robin', Buckley."

He continued. "Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God your parents don't walk in?"

Nancy was getting upset. "Do you want me to puke?"

"Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvin's in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"

You squeezed your thighs together. His voice was deep and masculine, sending you off into an alluring day dream. You found yourself in the back seat of a car, a strong man towering over you, rough hands caressing your soft skin. He takes off your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the night, nipples hardening. He's groping them, kissing them, loving on them. Your moaning and he's trailing his lips lower. Your hands thread themselves in his brown, wavy hair. He's pulling your panties down with his teeth, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. And suddenly you were in the back of his van, pulling off his patched, demin jacket until he's leaning over you completely naked. He put his lips to your ear, whispering --

"Hey, why don't you leave her alone!" Steve breaks you out of your imagination.

"You gonna make me?"

"Yeah."

"You and whose army?"

"Just me and five of my fingers. I hit you. You hitting floor. Anytime you're ready."

Eddie realised that Steve was being serious, but doesn't believe he is quite capable of making good on his threat.

"Yeah? You want a black eye to go with that split lip? You couldn't fight Billy Hargrove, what makes you think you can beat me?"

Your chest tightened at his name and your eyes darted to the door. They stayed shut. It calmed you a little, but your heart was still beating against your ribcage. You placed a hand there in case it burst out. You wondered how Eddie knew about the fight at the party, you hadn't seen him there. But then again, word travels fast around Hawkins High. Your breathing became heavy. All this arguing was making you dizzy. You could do without a repeat of last Thursday.

"Try me."

"Eddie." You pleaded him not to retaliate, swallowing down your pride for a second of peace.

He looked at you, and suddenly Eddie was not in the mood to fight Steve. The fear in your eyes scared him a little. You were serious about them not fighting. But luckily for you, Eddie knew when to stop. Besides, there were ladies present, and he was a gentleman.

To some extent.

"Whatever man, I'm not getting into this with you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" He paused. He wasn't going to tell Steve he did it for you. "'Cause I'd kill you. It's real simple, you'd die and your fucking parents would sue me and It'd be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother. So drop it."

"Chicken."

"You know, you should see a doctor. I think those steroids are frying your brain."

Steve just laughed him off, believing that he had scared Eddie into yielding and he was just giving one last dig to preserve his pride. Eddie looked a Nancy, but she was already staring at him.

"What is it that makes you act like such a fool?"

"I'm not getting enough vitamin B."

Steve fumed. He wanted his fist to connect with that smartass mouth of his. "Let's end this right now. You don't talk to her...you don't look at her and you don't even think about her! You understand me?"

"I'm trying to help her." He said it like it was as plain as a pikestaff.

"Help me?" Nancy was insulted. "Why don't you work on yourself?"

"I did. I finished last Tuesday. Now I'm working on the rest of the world." He pointed at Steve, who looked about ready to swing. "I could help you, big boy."

"Spare me."

"I can help a lot of people, all they have to do is ask nicely."

"I'll kill you." Steve threatened with a clenched fist.

Eddie looked unmoved. He heard threats like that at least five times a day. "Well, I should just let you and everyone else who wants to kill me fight for the privilege."

There was a rumbling from beyond the library door. In a flurry of panic, everyone got themselves into position, acting like they hadn't moved an inch away from their seats. Eddie sat next to you again, accidently kicking your foot under the table. You kicked it back in annoyance. He did it again, only on purpose this time. 'What a child' you thought. You put your coat on the back of your chair and sat up straight, expecting Principal Higgins to come storming in.

Everybody visibly relaxed when Carl, the janitor, came rumbling in with his music playing quietly from his radio, dragging his cart behind him. He had a face you didn't quite know how to take; he looked friendly enough, but could turn at the snap of your fingers. He was skinny and stood at a height of 5"8, with a limp of a man who worked hard for his living. He smiled everyone, but the only one who seems the acknowledge him was Robin. She returned the smile and gave him a small wave, in hopes of being nice but not letting the others see. He went into the librarians office and grabbed the waste basket.

"Hey Sweetheart, your dad's here."

You gave him an unamused smile and kicked his shin under the desk once more.

Carl came out of the office and dumped the basket on his cart. He left his cart in the main library and walked down the pathway to grab another trash bin at the back of the room.

"Hey, Carl?"

Carl paused in surprise that any student here, with the exception of Robin, would talk to him. He turned around, but Eddie still remained facing the front, putting his back to him.

"How does one become a janitor."

Everyone supressed a giggle, even Steve despite his dislike for Eddie. Only Robin remained silent. She didn't find it very funny.

"You want to become a janitor?" Carl raised an eyebrow.

"No I just wanna know how one becomes a janitor because Steve here, is very interested in perusing a career in the custodial arts."

Steve stopped laughing at that. Carl scratched his head. He knew that they were making fun of him. But Carl wasn't one someone should mess with. He turned off his radio, pulled off his rubber gloves and shoved them in his back pocket.

"You guys think I'm just a lowly janitor. Some fucking untouchable peasant. Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for five years, I've learned a few things. I read your notes, I go through your letters. I listen to your conversations. I am the eyes and ears of this institution. I know where you are now and I know where you'll be in the future."

Everyone exchanged worried looks as Carl moved to tower in front of Eddie. "You got ten years, max. Drugs. Rundown trailer in West Texas. Whore wife takes the baby, you shoot a fatal dose. Probable? Maybe not. Possible? Think so."

He turned to you. "You get married to a guy with lots of material success. Corporate position. Big bucks. Black Jag. You have three kids, nobody gives a shit. You get divorced and have a big fuckin' heart attack at thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

Steve was next. "District sales manager for a golf club manufacturer. Shitty little compact company car, twenty-two five a year and a wife as big as a boxcar."

Finally, Nancy. "Six face-lifts and two boob jobs by forty and a husband with more girlfriends than anniversaries."

He stepped back and put on his gloves. The stunned reaction on everybody's faces made him smile. "But I'm just a janitor." He shrugged.

And with that, he grabbed his cart, wheeled it around and headed out. He paused at the door and looked at the clock.

"By the way, that thing's twenty minutes slow." He winked as he left and everybody groaned.

~~~~~

12:30pm

~~~~~

Everybody was bored out of their skulls after the shock of Carl's speech had worn off. You took the time to think about what he had said. He had tried to put a downer on you, but the life he had predicted for you sounded like paradise, compared to now. Even if you did only have twenty years left to live. As crazy as it sounded, it gave you a bit of hope. There was a chance that you could work up the courage to leave Billy and meet someone nice, or at least wealthy. You had never given any thought about having kids, especially not with Billy, but now, maybe you could see yourself with a kid. You'd want a boy, and he'd look just like his father; Curly brown hair, big russet eyes, and a toothy smile. What would you name him? Would you name him after his father? Maybe Michael, or Christopher, James. Edward? You liked that name.

Your eyes flashed to the door as it opened. Principal Higgins strolled in with a frown of his face, even though no one had done anything to upset him yet.

Yet.

"Thirty minutes for lunch." He declared.

"Excuse me Sir, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place to eat lunch."

"I don't care what you think, Harrington."

Steve sunk back into his seat.

"Uh, Dick?" Eddie cleared his throat. "Sorry, Richard. Will milk be made available to us? Someone like Steve could choke to death on a dry sandwich."

"I have a low tolerance for dehydration, Sir." Robin added.

"I've seen her dehydrated, Sir." Steve sat up again. "It's pretty gross."

You wondered if that was true, or if he was just playing along. The things he said about her, you wondered if they knew each other. Probably not, you brushed off the thought. They were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum, there was no way they knew each other.

Principal Higgins scowled.

Eddie stood and raised his hands like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Relax, I'll get it."

"Ah,ah,ah. Grab some wood there, Munson. You think I was born yesterday? You don't fool me for one minute. I'm not having you roaming these halls."

Eddie plopped back into his seat with a defeated sigh. It was worth a shot.

"You." He pointed at Steve.

He eyed up the other students, skipping over Eddie as he decided who else was most suitable to leave. You sank into your seat. You did not fancy having some alone time with Steve. Steve stared directly at the Principal before darting his eyes to the right where Nancy was sat, signalling for him to pick her. She sat up to make herself more evident.

Higgins ignored them and pointed a finger at you. "And you. There's a soft drinks machine in the faculty lunch room."

You broke into a cold sweat. This was going to be the most awkward ten minutes of your life. Either Steve was just going to pretend you didn't exist, or he was going to absolutely grill you. You hoped for the former.

As you reluctantly got out of your seat, Steve held out a hand to the others for money. Nancy took out a change purse from her bag and handed him fifty cents. Robin does the same with the loose change in her jeans pocket. Eddie fished through his coat pockets. He found some assorted change, crumpled gum wrappers, some loose tobacco and a screw. He handed it all to Steve.

Steve made his way out, not even looking to see if you're following him. You do, of course, but you lagged behind him, not feeling particularly comfortable being alone with him. You counted your steps as you walked, fiddling with the delicate chain around your neck. It was a simple design: just your name written with gold, cursive lettering. But it was the only jewellery you never took off. Your parents had bought it for you when you had started cheerleading at eight years old. It was a reminder of when life was much more simple, when you believed that your parents actually loved each other, that they loved you.

A minute passed and you already couldn't stand the silence. You dreaded it, but you knew this would probably be the only opportunity you would get to hash out your grievances.

"Why do you hate me?" A forward start, but at least it's a start.

"You know why."

"Look, what Billy did wasn't my fault --"

"Of course it is. If you hadn't been there in the first place he wouldn't've showed up."

"Hey, I didn't even tell him I was going to that stupid party. He was there anyway. If you hadn't come over and butted into our argument, maybe you wouldn't have that split lip."

"My parties aren't stupid."

"Is that seriously all you took from that?"

"No..." He paused. After hearing your side of the story, he was beginning to feel like a fool. "What were you guys even arguing about?"

You sighed. "Billy and I had plans to go to this drive in movie theatre. I don't think he wanted to watch a movie though, I think he was just hoping to get lucky." The two of you had stopped walking. Steve looked at you intently, encouraging you to carry on. You shifted on your feet. "If I'm being completely honest I didn't really want to go, but then Carol asked me to go to your party and I took it as an excuse not to go with Billy. I knew he would be angry if I cancelled our plans last minute, so I told him I was sick. Biggest fucking mistake of my life."

"So you went to the party and Billy caught you out in your lie."

"Yeah. Turns out one of his friends had asked him to go but he'd declined 'cause we were going on a date. He accepted the offer once I'd cancelled our plans."

Steve started walking again. You followed next to him this time. "I know Billy is a bit of a shitbag, but why didn't you want to go on your date? I mean, it seemed like a good time."

There was no such thing as a 'good time' with Billy. He had his moments, sure, but he was as cranky as a wet hen. Time with him was like trying to swim with rocks on your back. He sucked all the fun out of everything until you started drowning. You didn't tell Steve that though.

"I just wasn't in the mood to be around him, is all." You brushed him off. "But he's bringing it up all the time, and were arguing all of the time. Even in school."

"Is that why you're here today?"

His question made you pause. He stopped a couple of steps ahead of you and turned around when he saw you weren't next to him anymore. You played it off like you were itching your leg and jogged up to him. The two of you made it to the teacher's lounge.

The first thing you noticed was that it was very brown. The floor and ceiling had the same white speckled tile that ran throughout the entire school, but everything else was just ... brown. Brown wallpaper, brown leather sofas, brown table, brown countertop. Even the fridge was brown. The vending machine was in the far corner.

"Why are you here?" You asked Steve, hoping he hadn't realised that you hadn't answered his question.

"Me? I'm here because my father and my coach don't want me to blow my ride." He started feeding the change into the machine. "They think my intensity's for shit. You see, I have a different set of standards. I get treated different because Coach thinks I'm a star. So does my old man. But you know what? I don't care. I'm not a star because I want to be a star, I'm a star because I got good legs and reflexes. I'm like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

You nodded, but you had a suspicion that that wasn't the whole truth. "Yeah, so why are you really here?"

Steve was annoyed that he hadn't managed to persuade you. "Forget it."

You studied the set of lockers on the other side of the room. You walked over to them out of curiosity, trying your luck with one of the doors. To your surprise it opened.

Steve caught you out of the corner of his eye. "You really shouldn't be doing that."

Inside lay a set of keys attached to a green Hawkins High lanyard, a pack of cigarettes, a 'thank you teacher' mug, and a Prince's Purple Rain album on vinyl. Steve came up behind you, looking inside and letting the soda cans thunk loudly at the bottom of the vending machine.

"This is a teacher's stuff?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah. Does this mean that they're actually human?" You laughed together for the first time.

Daringly, you pocketed the pack of cigarettes in your cardigan pocket and took the record.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, put them back."

"C'mon Steve, when are you ever going into the teacher's lounge again? Besides, it'll give us something to do while were stuck in that god damned library."

You shut the locker door and brushed past him. You gathered up the soda cans, giving Steve his share to carry and made your way back to the library.

"It was pretty strange looking at teacher's personal shit, huh?" You said, examining the purple record sleeve.

Steve shrugged, he'd seen stranger things. "I went over to Coach's house for dinner once during the summer. It was really weird to see how he lives."

He paused, anticipating a question, but you just looked at him to carry on.

"His wife was fat. And one of his kids was in a wheelchair. It was kinda sad. He was a nice kid."

"If he invites you over to his house, why does he shit on you?"

"He and my old man are working to get me a scholarship. It's not an economic issue. Scholarships make the newspaper. They think I have a shot at a full ride. They think I deserve a Big Ten school."

You simply nodded and walked through the library doors. The others were gathered in the corner by the comfy chairs. Eddie was holding a book opened to a page displaying a man with elephantitus to the nuts like he was reading children a bedtime story.

"How do you suppose he rides a bike?"

The clattering of soda cans on the table drew their attention away. They all walked over to grab a can. Before the others could take one, Eddie reached out and shook one furiously.

You look at him like he was crazy. Perhaps he was. "That's going to spray all over you."

"Not necessarily."

He put the drink back with the others and moved the cans around so than no one would know which was was shook up.

"You're such a dingus." Robin bravely took a can first.

Everyone else followed before taking their seats and pulling out their lunches. You simply took out an apple, loosing your appetite after seeing a man with elephantitus to the nuts. You noticed Eddie didn't have any lunch as he surveyed everyone else's.

"Where's your lunch?"

"You're wearing it." He winked.

You curled your lip in disgust, but felt about as red as your apple.

"You're nauseating." Nancy complained, opening her lunch.

"Look who's talking. You don't care what you put in your mouth." He eyed Nancy's lunch like she had just shown him a plate full of snails. "What is that?"

"Sushi."

"Sushi?"

"Rice, raw fish, and seaweed."

"You wont accept a guys tongue in your mouth, but you'll eat that?"

She scoffed impatiently. "Can I eat?"

"I don't know, give it a try."

The room went silent as everybody watched Steve pull out his lunch from a large brown grocery bag; three sandwiches, a family-sized bag of chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies and a carton of milk.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Robin asked in shock.

"No, I'm only going to eat half."

"What are you going to do with the other half?"

"Shoving it up Eddie's ass."

How charming. He reached for his can and everybody shrunk away, thinking it might explode. He cracked the tab.

Nothing happened.

Robin took out a sandwich covered in saran wrap. She unwrapped it and pulled the bread apart, starting to work on it like a mad scientist. She tossed the meat away, blindly whipping it to the side. It slapped on the wall and stuck there. She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a bag of chocolate M&M's. She tore the bag open and dumped all of it on the buttered bread. Out of her coat pocket she pulled out a little baggie filled with Captain crunch cereal and sprinkled it over the M&M's. She closed the mess of a sandwich and took a huge bite. She noticed that everyone was watching her.

"You are bizarre." Eddie thought Steve's lunch was bad.

She reached for her Pepsi to wash it all down. She put it to her mouth and popped it. The soda sprayed cleanly into her mouth.

After the fizz was gone, she smirked at Eddie. "Nice try, dingus."

"What do you have?" He turned to you, watching take a bite into your apple.

You handed your bag over to him, rather than speaking with a full mouth. He started pulling things out. He pulled out a sandwich, a thermos of soup, which he opened and give a big whiff, and a bottle of water.

"Well Sweetheart, this is a very nutritious lunch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rodgers?"

Eddie stood so he was front and centre of the room, all eyes on him.

"This is my impression of life at our darling Sweetheart's house." He gestured to you and your face flushed.

"Hello, dear. I'm home from the coalmine." Eddie impersonated your father.

Eddie quickly played your mother. "Oh, hello, sweetie pie. Dinner's almost ready. I'm serving stuffing instead of potatoes."

"My favourite!"

His voice turned high and shrill, playing you. "Hi, Dad! Yippee, you're home! I danced in a skimpy skirt in front of hundreds of people today. I went to church and I wrote Grandma a letter. Now can I have a pen pal?"

"Dear, isn't our daughter swell?"

Quiet and motherly. "Yes Dear, isn't life swell?"

Eddie mimed your mother kissing your father, then father kissing mother, and then your father punching your mother in the face. Suddenly it was not so funny anymore.

Your eyes were wet. You hated how much that hurt. It wasn't his words that hurt you, it was how much you wished it were true.

You bravely stood up. "No, it's more like --"

"Dad? Is it okay if I shoot heroin?"

You lowered your voice, playing your father. You held an imaginary newspaper in your hands, not taking your eyes off it and pretending that you weren't paying attention. "If it'll make you happy, pumpkin."

You extended your fingers and blew on them, doing your mother and her fresh nail polish. "What are you talking about, Frank?! How's she going to wear her Sunday dress with holes in her arms? We are going to church aren't we?

"It's okay. Never mind. I won't be a junkie." You said sadly.

"Now, just wait a minute. If you want to be a junkie--"

"I'm not going to be the only woman at the congregation with a junkie daughter. Now what about church?" Your mother said.

"Go by yourself!" Said your father.

"With pleasure! I'm taking Y/N."

"Over my dead body!"

"I love her more than you do!"

"Go to hell!"

Everyone looks at you with a hint of sympathy. Even Eddie.

"Do you wish they'd get a divorce?" He asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'd have to live with one or the other. And I don't know which one is worse." You laughed, but there was no humour behind it.

"Whose next?" Eddie ask, like he didn't already know he was going to single out Steve. Eddie pointed at him. "You're next."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"You an orphan?"

"I don't need to dump on my parents. Especially when they're not here to defend themselves." Eddie gave him a look like he was being chicken.

"What about your family?" Steve asked Eddie. He wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine.

"Mine? Real simple, pal."

He climbed onto the table, really setting the stage and getting himself into character. His eyelids lowered and his body moved clumsily, like he was drunk. "Stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn freeloading, son of a bitch, big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk!"

He stands up straight, crossing his arms and raising the pitch of his voice. "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful." His mother said.

"Shut up bitch!" He smacked the air, hitting his invisible mother. He yelled it so loud you were worried Higgins was about to storm through the door.

As his father, he threw a punch. Eddie dramatically dropped from the table and fell to the ground. He stood up, brushed himself off and took a bow. The show was over.

"Then they make me work to pay off the dentist for the teeth he busts."

"Is that for real?" Nancy looks like she's going to start crying for him.

"You wanna come over some time?"

She didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to anyone. Even someone as vexing as Eddie. Nancy decided then to never complain about her parents again.

"That's part of your image. I don't believe a word." Steve brushed him off. His re-enactment hadn't moved him at all.

You wondered if he was right. You had been so truthful about yours, you would feel ashamed if he had lied about his.

Eddie actually looked hurt. "You don't believe it, huh?"

He whipped off his red shirt and pulled up the sleeve of his black t-shirt. He shoved his arm in Steve's face, displaying a grotesque purple scar. Steve recoiled away from it, but Eddie forced him to look at it. You subtly tugged at the sleeve of your cardigan. You could feel the bruises of Billy's fingers purpling on your wrist.

"You believe that? It's about the size of a cigar." Eddie spoke through gritted teeth. "That's what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."

Eddie was breathless with anger. His muscles were tensed up so tightly he thought he was going to give himself a full-body cramp. He needed something to calm himself down. Luckily, he knew just the thing.

~~~~~

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