#bright sessions novel

[book-m0use]

Even though I hated being around them—was so afraid of what I might do to them, what they might do to me in retaliation (though they never did anything, why did they never do anything, why didn’t they stop me)—I want them to come back.

[thebrightsessions]

Have you finished listening to all of The Bright Sessions but you're still hungry for more audio adventures of atypicals? All three Bright Universe novels are available in audiobook form, with some familiar voices!

[anantaru]

“but what if i kiss you there?”

a direct brilliant shading of gold regards from deep within your lovers eyes which were pointed towards you as you laugh contently while jing yuan silently mouths over a small square on your cheek before sneakily nibbling down, finding your affixed smiles all the more joyous.

it‘s been a good couple of hours since he had gotten home from his important work and the both of you clearly had forgotten all about your time management. what had begun as a small but warm cuddling session was now developing into a night full of laughter, slight teasing and flirting, as well as the bright contentment of your boyfriend.

by the looks of it, have you noticed just how tired jing yuan was yet he actively refused to go asleep, he must stay awake and relish in the togetherness of you both— after all, it wasn‘t often for him to be home like that, not when he was a well respected general who would practically drown in work load.

"you're comfy." you admit, eyes flickered in gladdening, this scene had a tune of love installed atop the levitating air and you nuzzle your forehead into his. "oh? am i?"

a chuckle greets you, the husky voice rumbling in his throat only emitted all the more contently and you realized, this was distinctly more pleasant.

"yeah." you kiss his cheek, "yes you are."

jing yuan's fingers carefully bended around your cheekbones, lips compressed into a smile, shining with excitement. "i do enjoy when you give me compliments." he coos, and truthfully, there wasn't anything better than hearing them coming from you.

at bottom, the general was popular amongst many, yet he, in his own path of thinking, only regarded one person as the very one he had fallen in love with.

it being you; it was simply a matter as easy as breathing, and an almost bizarre, novel motion of appreciation and love stirred deep in his gut until he couldn't take it anymore.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[forthelostones]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #4

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. everyone wow thank you so much for the love on for your eyes only! it means so much. here’s something a little different, hope you enjoy. any requests don’t hesitate to drop ‘em, xx jstar.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. hypotheticals by lake street drive ♫

https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

I didn’t bother looking at my watch during our session and somehow I noticed the sun was nearly gone. A fist tightened in my stomach when I realized how long she had been in my presence without me being aware of the fact. I can’t remember a time when my social battery grew instead of depleting. 

Technically, I should be tired since I stayed up filtering through applications and cleaning my entire place simultaneously. But it was something about her that energized me. Even motivated me and made me excited about this project. She gave me a sense of agency, which I haven't felt in the last decade.

“You built these bookshelves, didn't you?” She snorted in disbelief as we traveled to the living room before her departure. 

“I did,” I said, in the kitchen as I fetched myself a beer, feeling proud at the recognition. 

I followed her manicured finger trace at the edge of the panels. She twisted her head sideways to read the dusty titles on the shelf. Even though I only saw her back, I knew her mouth was open in astonishment at my first edition copies of classic books, something I’ve been cultivating for twenty years. I bring the tinted bottle to my lips and stand with my free hand on my chin. 

She tucked her index into an original print of The Well of Loneliness. She looked over her shoulder quickly to check if I was watching her, which I was. I quickly diverted my gaze towards the floor and sipped. “I’ve had that book for a while,” I say. 

“Is it okay if I…” 

Her voice became silent, almost a whisper as if she’d be in trouble if she muttered a word about the novel. 

“Of course. Please.” 

I gesture towards the couch and she pulls the untouched book from the shelf as if it were delicate china and sits on my worn sofa. I bit the corner of my mouth as I saw her sit right where I lay my head and I took a seat on the farthest end away from her. She crossed her legs and brought the grey-shaded book onto her lap. The pages were stale and yellow-ish, almost crumbling under her careful touch. She followed the inside of the spine with her thumb, straightening the first page and a shiver traveled down my spine to my toes. 

“From the library of Abigail Anderson.” Her voice drops an octave, loose and saturated in a sexy chuckle. I wanted her to repeat my name just like that until her voice was hoarse.

I knew my cheeks grew bright red and I had the inclination to press the bottle to my face to cool my embarrassment. The embosser was a gift from an ex-girlfriend and she took the liberty of pressing it into every book I owned, even my most valuable ones. 

“You like that?” I smile, concealing my trembling lip with the neck of the bottle and thumb. 

“I wish I had one but my books aren’t special enough.” 

“What do you like to read?” 

“Same stuff you do.” 

That stuff is novels that exclusively includes women.

Her eyes linger with a glint that can only be described as fervor like she never met someone who read lesbian fiction. I didn’t break eye contact like I had been for the last three hours. I took another sip to hold back a large, toothy grin. Her phone vibrated with another ricochet of text messages, which she continuously ignored. But soon she broke our quiet pact by reading the messages and excusing herself to the next room. Her voice has a quiver in it although hushed. 

“Ellie. I’m sorry I just—okay. Okay. I know I am sorry. It just… Of course, I love you are you—alright. I’ll see you soon.” 

She comes back into the living room without moving back to her original spot. Her face was thick with an emotion I knew all too well. Dread. Maybe she needed an excuse to stay longer and I felt okay with that.

“I don’t know if you’re hungry or anything—” / “I’m gonna go—”. 

The jumble of words flusters us both and her grip tightens around her phone. The sight makes me think she could snap it in half right there. Ellie, her girlfriend, definitely gave her a stern talking to. The little cat-like girl I met on the street couldn't have made her feel so small. She brushes a stray hair from her face that wasn’t there. Instead of confidence, I saw her shrink down twice in size. 

“Oh, yea of course,” I rub my hot neck.

Her eyes dart towards the copy of The Well of Loneliness. 

“You can borrow it if you want to.” 

Instead of traveling around the couch, she let her body swipe past me as I rose from the couch. Our clothes mingled in a private dance just before she slipped on her shoes and fiddled with the door. With the book pressed to her chest, she turned to me, a mere two feet away, and thanked me. A silence fell between us. It wasn't awkward, but comfortable. I felt comfortable.

“Anytime, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

What I wanted to come out as a statement became a question and I resented myself for it. I wanted her to know that I was going to see her.

“Hopefully. ‘Night Ms. Anderson.” 

“Drive safe, sweetheart.” 

A soft I will left her solemn lips and I watched the twinkle of her headlights illuminate my body. I raise my hand to wave her off but she turns her head before I can. I quickly tucked it away in my back pocket. My throat hardened seeing her car drive away.

As I closed the door, the lingering silence of the house struck me strongly. The missing book from the shelf made me feel hollow in a way. I was glad that she took it but I wish... I don't know. I finish my last sip of beer and toss the bottle out. I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower.

The water offered me a clarity the cool breeze outside could not. I was relishing in a former life that I wish I had done differently. Craving someone who truly understood me and appreciated who I was. I never got that. My heart pumped with anxiety-ridden blood. Painful memories that I shoved away threatened to —

My hands are on the sparkling tiles, spread with 2 inches in between. I press my eyes shut and try to understand where I stand. It feels like the calm beads of water transformed into pebbles. Hitting my skin with an angry vengeance I could not place. The steam inhibits me from getting a deep inhale. I can't move. I open my eyes and soften my knees. I find the strength to reach for the knob and draw my body onto the floor. My knees come to my chest and I count until the water turns cold.

I opened the windows in my bedroom and listened to the chirping of cicadas. I close my eyes and walk backward onto the perfectly made bed. Instantly, my back melted. Why was I denying myself this? I lay with my feet dangling and was disrupted from the lingering sleep by my phone in the living room.

7:30 PM: What have you gotten me into Ms. Anderson?

She sat with the book in her lap, the only blankets around being a plum-colored top sheet. Her legs held the book and a small light illuminated the first page. Her thumb held the right page and her index and middle in the crease. I could imagine how she rubbed them against the paper like earlier. I stared at the photo and fell deeper into the elements of it.

7:35 PM: 400 pages is nothing, You'll do fine.

A bubble appears and vanishes.

7:36 PM: It's actually 448 pages, thank you very much.

7:37 PM: My apologies. 48 extra pages won't kill you.

7:38 PM: You don't know that...

7:40 PM: I think I do.

7:41 PM: Well, we can discuss what you think you know tomorrow...

My fingers twitched to reply but it was clear that she desired to be left alone. I couldn't determine why these casual conversations left my face aching, but they did. I reflected on how long it's been since I went on a date. The number enters my mind and burns slowly like a forest fire. The sides of my head throb as I slip under the blankets.

to be continued...

[miasmaghoul]

There is so much talk of creaming jorts on my blog right now and you know, it gave me a devious idea:

Mountain (or another ghoul of your choosing ofc, but it is still march haha) is getting close to the start of a rut, which has them feeling a little posessive a packmate pre-ritual. Like he needs to claim them a little to scratch the itch under their skin. What if they were having a sneaky make out session before curtain call and he unbuckled the others belt, creamed into their jorts undies and buckled them back up, just in time for them to feel him all ritual?

Gross.

I love it.

Leaned more into the possessive side of things, hope you don't mind!

(This has been sitting in my drafts for months I'm SO SORRY pretend it's still March shhhh)

Mountain breathes deep through his nose, trying to focus on the book in his hand as the van trundles down the road toward tonight's venue. It's some pulpy crime novel he'd grabbed at the last airport they visited, something intended to distract more than entertain, but despite being more than halfway through it Mountain couldn't name a single character if he tried.

He can't help it. Can't think about anything but the way every inch of him has started to buzz, how the very air around him hums.

There's a specific sort of pressure in the back of his head. Rigidity in the muscles along his spine. A disquieting tingle that's come to settle into his gut. It all speaks to one thing, and it couldn't be coming at a worse time.

It had started last night, a sharp spike of nearly painful arousal that had hit him in the middle of the night. Had roused him from an otherwise very sound sleep and jolted him so badly that the oversized ghoul had hit his head on the ceiling of his bunk. It hardly registered, Mountain honed in exclusively on the sudden, urgent need for release.

Rock hard and leaking already, he'd wasted no time in shoving his hands into his sleep sweats, gripping himself and pumping his hips into the tight channel of both fists. Forced to bite his tongue to mute the harsh groan threatening to escape his throat when he blew in a matter of seconds, eyes shut so tight that colors bloomed behind his lids.

It happened again in the bus shower this morning, Mountain struck by a wave of need so intense that he'd doubled over and nearly slipped. He'd lasted a little longer that time, not that he'd needed to, and the wet sound of his soapy hand flying over his cock still echoed in his ears. That one had left him dizzy, left him panting against the shower wall while he watched his load swirl down the drain.

There really are few things worse than an unexpected rut.

He knows that the others know, but most of them don't acknowledge it. He'd caught them all staring at different points, nostrils flared, but they were quick to look away. Dew, Rain, Cirrus and Cumulus did their best to be sly about it, furtive glances cast during casual conversation. Aeon and Aurora weren't quite so subtle - he could smell the pair of them from down the length of the bus. Could see Aeon getting chubby in his too-tight jeans and Aurora squeezing her thighs together. Both tempting in their own ways, to be sure.

But then there was Swiss.

Swiss, who he'd heard noisily tugging at himself in the bunk below while he came down from his first orgasm.

Swiss, who had been standing bright-eyed and grinning just outside the bathroom after Mountain's shower.

Swiss, who had spent the entire morning tossing him hungry glances and touching him at every possible opportunity.

Swiss, who now sits pressed tightly to his side in the cramped van while Mountain does his damnedest to ignore the heat of his body, the spice of his cologne and the weight of the hand on his knee.

Mountain can hardly think for how badly he wants. Wants to wrench Swiss's arm behind his back, get a hand in his hair and shove his tongue down his throat. Wants to tug Swiss into his lap in front of everyone and feel him up, wants to suck deep, dark marks into his neck while he grinds against his ass. Wants to get Swiss's strong legs over his shoulders, wants to get so deep inside that Swiss can't do anything but writhe and beg for his -

"You're growling, big guy," Swiss informs him, voice silken gravel, and Mountain nearly tears his book in half. He gives the other ghoul a sidelong glance, and Mountain knows that if they weren't glamoured Swiss would be smiling with every fang in his mouth. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Mountain doesn't deign to answer him, instead choosing to stare at the page he hasn't turned in the last ten minutes. To pretend his dick isn't hard as granite and leaking into the two pairs of too-tight underwear he'd shoved himself into.

He's first out of the van when they finally pull up to the amphitheater, sucking down heavy lungfuls of fresh, summertime air in an effort to clear his head. To wash away the heady scent of smoky whiskey, black pepper and bitter herbs stuck in his nose. To allow himself to think about anything but the familiar warmth of Swiss's body.

About the way he always holds himself open when Mountain bends him over. The way he moans in that deliciously whorish way when Mountain pushes in. The way Swiss's voice drops to a rasp and his breathing goes shallow when Mountain grips those narrow hips with bruising force. The way he grabs at his own hair when Mountain fucks him just right. The way Swiss's pretty little hole stretches around his -

"Mount!"

Rain's voice shakes him from his stupor, and as his cock pulses and leaks to memories of Swiss, Mountain hurries over to join his packmates. Rain gives him a worried look.

"Hey, you alright?" He reaches out to touch Mountain's arm, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know you're, uh..." he makes a vague southward gesture, "...struggling."

"I'm fine," Mountain grumbles, not so subtly adjusting himself and hoping he hasn't soaked a wet spot into his jeans. He catches a whiff of warm spice and old weed, and as Swiss breezes past them Mountain can practically feel his pupils narrow.

Rain seems less than convinced when Mountain proceeds to crack his knuckles, but he drops the subject nonetheless. They head inside together, and Mountain does his best to put on his game face.

He still stops in a bathroom along the way, unable to erase the image of Swiss stretched and keening from his mind. He spills into the toilet with the other ghoul's name on his tongue, and huffs out an irritated sigh when no relief follows.

This is going to be a very long show.

Still though, the hours between arrival and showtime pass in a blur. Soundcheck comes and goes, as do their myriad meetings with venue staff and conversations with their techs.

Through it all, Mountain can feel golden eyes boring into him. In the halls, on stage, in the dressing room. Mountain does his best to ignore the weight of Swiss's gaze as he applies his face paint, but the only other thing he can think of is the red-hot tangle of urgency between his legs. He meets Swiss's eyes in the vanity mirror as he slips on his helmet, the other ghoul peering at him over Rain's shoulder while they chat across the room.

He offers a wink through his lenses, and Mountain's balls ache.

The call comes for ten minutes til showtime, and the others make their way from the dressing one by one. Swiss doesn't so much as move from his position against the wall. Mountain can feel his breaths coming quicker as Aurora and Cumulus share a sideways hug, the door clicking shut behind them, and then they're alone.

They're alone, and Swiss grins.

Mountain's across the room in two stride, and before Swiss can so much as breathe he's pinned to the wall by his throat. Mountain snarls in his face, leaning in until he can feel Swiss' breath on his lips, hot and tobacco tinged.

"Why must you always insist on being such a fucking tease?"

Swiss' lips curl up at the corners despite the pressure on his neck, and something predatory prickles at the back of Mountain's mind.

"Not my fault you're thrown' off pheromones like crazy," he said, just a little strained. Swiss rolls his hips towards his pelvis and Mountain's stomach gives a mighty swoop. "Can't blame me for wanting a taste."

Swiss licks at the air, breathes deep, and Mountain squeezes his throat so tight his eyes roll back.

"Can't even ask for what you want, can you?" The taller ghoul's other hand finds Swiss' belt and Mountain unbuckles it with aggresive fingers. He knows he's growling as best he can through his glamour, and the way Swiss shivers says he gets the message. "Too stupid to use your words? Just have to be a fucking tease about it?"

Swiss gives him a hurried nod as he swallows against the pressure of Mountain's palm, and he grunts when Mountain yanks his pants and briefs down in one go. A rough hand gropes his rapidly thickening cock, and Swiss visibly winces, eyes bright.

"Don't make that face." Mountain pulls his hand from Swiss' growing chubby to unzip his own pants, to fish himself out through his already stained briefs. "You asked for this." He groans at his own touch, cock hot and heavy in his hand. He smears the wet tip of it over Swiss' shaft and the sensation wrenches a moan from him.

Swiss licks his lips, nods again as his eyes drift south, and as Mountain starts to stroke himself he chokes out a pained huff. Mountain's hold on the other ghoul's throat never slackens, not even as his chest starts to heave while his cock jumps. He pulls at himself with firm tugs, each one sounding slicker than the last. Swiss lets his helmet thud back against the wall, hands coming up to rest on Mountain's forearm. He rocks forward and Mountain growls, can't keep himself from pressing closer. From crowding Swiss to the wall and bumping his fat cock with every pass of his fist.

"I'm going to give you something special." They're close enough that Swiss's breath clouds his lenses. Mountain's balls are starting to go tight already, the tension settled into every part of his body melting into tingly heat that has his shoulders sagging. "Something to think about while you're dancing like a whore for all those people."

He works himself hard and fast, the urgent heat in his veins threatening to set his skin alight. Swiss's ignored cock bobs and bounces, the other ghoul gripping his choking arm tight and spitting tight curses through clenched fangs every time Mountain nudges it.

"Touch me," Swiss manages to spit, blunt nails digging through his shirt. He bucks as best he can, but all that accomplishes is a brief bump against Mountain's fist. "Mount - Mount you gotta -"

He gurgles when Mountain squeezes him into silence, huffing while he polishes his leaking tip.

"Shut up," he bites out, teeth clenched chest heaving. "Sluts don't get to make demands."

For once in his life, Swiss keep his mouth shut.

It's no time at all before Mountain's balls draw up, his hips twitching in animalistic jerks. He grunts with every stroke, brow knit behind his mask, and the closer he gets the better Swiss's strained gurgling sounds.

"Gonna make sure they all know you're mine."

Swiss's cock spits a blurt of pre that hits his stroking hand, and with an impossibly deep moan Mountain shoots in thick ropes that splatter against his cock, balls and muscular thighs. Heavy streaks that cling to heated skin and coarse hair. That leave him filthy and marked in a way that has Swiss's knees wobbling. Mountain doesn't release his throat until his cock dribbles its last, and the deep, starved breath Swiss sucks in is musc to Mountain's ears.

He steps away while Swiss catches his breath and struggles to keep his legs under him, heads back to vanity to clean himself up. He hisses as the hand towel he finds scratches at his sensitive flesh, and in the mirror Swiss catches his eyes once more.

"Just gonna leave me like this?" Swiss pants, gesturing at his flushed, messy cock. He sounds surprised, and Mountain really can't imagine why. A pearly stripe drips, beads up to leave a stain in his undies that has Mountain drooling.

"Deal with it," he rumbles in response, tucking himself away and fastening his belt. "I want to smell it on you tonight."

He has the pleasure of watching Swiss' eyelids droop behind his lenses at the timbre of his voice, rich with intent. Mountain grabs his sticks and heads to join the others, and the sound of Swiss's zipper makes him smirk. There's something deeply satisfying about leaving him sticky and wanting, and even though he's hard again halfway through Kaisarion Mountain finds it easy to lose himself in his musicmaking.

Until Watcher in the Sky comes up and he makes the mistake of peeking over at Swiss's platform while Dew's guitar wails. Finds him on his knees and elbows with his ass in the air.

As both of his sticks splinter in half, Mountain swears he's going to make Swiss cry tonight.

It's what the slut deserves.

[thoughtswordsandnonsense]

Solstice Presents

Solstice has hit as Basgiath and Violet intends to spend it curled up reading her new book. Little does she know Xaden and Liam have a different plan that will be much more exciting than reading in bed alone. THIS IS 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD!! This takes place in Violets first year.

Violet’s Pov: 

We don’t get a long break like the others do, Solstice at Basgiath is only 3 days off and then it's back to training for everyone. First-years are forced to stay here while second-years and up are allowed to take off for those days. Exiting my last class for the day I make my way up to my room, intending to spend the next few days reading and catching up on sleep. 

“Violet!” Liam’s yell echoes down the hall as he runs to catch up to me, Xaden making him my shadow annoys me at times. “Hey, will you slow down a bit?” He says as he catches up with me, casually slinging an arm over my shoulders, I slow my pace but keep heading towards my room. “Any plans for the break?” He asks and I shrug. “No, not really. Intended on reading and sleeping. You?” he shrugs “Not really, no. Did you maybe want to hang out over the break?” He asks as we approach my door and I open it.

“Yeah sure-” “Oh, hey Violence.” Xaden’s deep voice rings through the room as I spy him lying on my bed, casually tossing one of his knives up and down, not even bothering to look my way. He’s dressed in black pants that are tight around his muscular legs and a tight black t-shirt, his flight jacket placed on the edge of my bed. “What exactly are you doing in my room?” I ask as I stand in the doorway, Liam's arm still draped over my shoulder as Xaden looks over at us and glares. “Waiting on you, relaxing.” He states plainly, glaring daggers at Liam and I look up to see Liam smirking cockily over at Xaden. “Problem?” Liam asks in a teasing tone and Xaden’s fists clench his knife tightly now. “Nope.” “What’d you need to wait on me for?” I ask, trying to break the obvious tension seeping through the room. “I was going to see if you wanted to do a training session tonight after dinner.” I groan, crossing my arms over my chest as I fight the urge to stomp my foot on the ground like a child. “No,” I state and he sighs pushing off my bed and standing. “It wasn’t me asking you, it was me telling you. I’ll see you in the training room after dinner.” He moves to brush past Liam and I, and I pettily hit his arm with my shoulder as he passes.

 “I said no,” I say as he goes into the hall. “Liam, you’ll see to her getting there?” He asks and Liam nods. “Yeah, no problem.” “Both of you fuck off and leave me alone.” I spit as Liam laughs and moves out of my room, once he’s out I slam the door on him. “See you later, Violence.” Liam says and I hear an “Ow dude the fuck?” A moment later from Liam. “Don’t fucking call her that.” As they walk off. 

I move to my bed, open the nightstand and grab the romance novel I had asked for from Jesinia before she hunkered down for Solstice as well. Lying down I take off my boots and socks and begin taking my hair out of my braid. Settling once I’m more comfortable I use the light filtering in from the window as reading light and crawl underneath my blanket. Xaden and his training be damned. 

Bright light startles me as I move to grab one of the blades on my side and slice whoever is waking me. Rough hands pin my wrist to the bed and I try to fight back. “Violence, it’s just me. “ My eyes open to see Xaden’s face hovering above my own, mere inches from mine. “What the fuck?” I yell at him as I move to shove him back, he laughs as I catch Liam sitting on my desk, flipping through one of my books.

 “Violet, I didn’t take you as someone who reads such filthy fucking porn.” He laughs and I feel my face warm as I look to the other side of my bed where my book should be but isn’t. “Put it back Liam.” I spit and he laughs again. “No way, this shit’s good.” I lurch, trying to jump over the edge of my bed to reach him. Xaden's warm arms pull me up and against him, my feet touching the cold floor as he restrains my arms behind my back. “Care to share with the class what our dear sweet Violet has been reading?” Xaden eggs him on and I struggle against him. “Fuck you both, leave my reading alone.” Liam clears his throat as he smirks down at me his blue eyes look at me mischievously. His eyes flick to the page as his voice drops an octave, sounding deeper and more sensual than normal.

 “Too much of a needy slut to wait for me hm? He says as he looks at his partners, Cas on her hands and knees and Dean hovering behind her, frozen as I glare at the pair of them. The lack of response has me walking over as I wrap Cas’s hair around my fist and slowly drag her head up to look at me. ‘Has he fucked you dumb already?’ She whimpers and I chuckle looking up at Dean to catch his guilty-looking eyes. ‘It was my idea.’ He says and I chuckle darkly ‘I don’t care whose idea it was to fuck before I got home she’ll be getting ruined by both of us tonight.’ She mewls at my threat and I look down to see her pleading eyes ‘Is that what you want little slut? For the two of us to have you so wrecked you can’t walk straight for days?’ she nods and begins to plead.” Liam takes a break leaning against the desk as every part of my body flushes with need, Xaden’s lips hover over my neck, his hot breath fanning across it as I try to not arch up into him. “Is that what you want Violence? To be wrecked, worshiped by not only one but two men?” His low voice has my toes curling, if I wasn’t flushing before I was now. Hyperaware of the tension in the room I cast my eyes to the floor as I feel one of Xaden's hands let go of my arm and trail up reaching to wrap his warm calloused hand against my neck and pull me back into him completely, forcing me to have my head against his chest as he makes me look him in the eyes. “I asked you a question.” He growls and I suck in a sharp breath as his hand adds pressure onto my neck. “Yes, gods yes.” I whimper and he smirks down at me and then looks across the room at Liam. 

“Are you staying or are you going?” He asks and Liam crosses the room and looks down at me, piercing blue eyes undressing me on the spot. “Do you want this Violet?” Xaden’s hand lets go of my neck and lets me go as I’m wedged in between them, Liam caresses my face, holding it softly as he searches for any sign of hesitation. “If you don’t want this we can end this right now and act like nothing ever happened,” Xaden says softly from behind me. “I want it, I want you both. Please.” I mewl and both of them groan. 

In one swift movement, Liam leans down and presses his warm lips against mine, Xaden’s lips are on my neck and my senses are in overdrive at the overstimulation already. He nips at the sensitive skin as Liam nips softly on my bottom lip, I moan into his mouth as his hands move to hold onto my waist and Xaden begins working on getting my corset off. His hands tug at the strings binding it together and make quick work of flinging it across the room and he quickly works my long sleeve off leaving my chest bare to both men. Liam pulls back and glances down at me, moving to cover myself with my arms Xaden's hands stop mine as he comes to stand beside Liam. “You’re beautiful Violet, there’s no reason for you to hide yourself from us. We’ll take care of you.” I nod, taking a deep breath to settle my nerves as I look up to see both of them looking like they want to devour me whole.

 “Do you trust us, Violet?” Xaden asks and I nod. “Yes, I trust both of you. I want this.” I say softly and he smiles. “Good girl,” Xaden says softly as one of his hands trails up and over to the peaks of my breast, tracing around my nipple with the pad of his fingertip as I suck in a breath, head tipping back in pleasure as he teasingly flicks it. Warm wetness meets my other nipple as I glance down to see Liam’s spiky light blonde hair sucking on my nipple, pleasure coursing through me as he sucks, moans fall from my mouth as they work together to tease me. “Stop teasing.” I gasp and Xaden chuckles. “We’re just getting started Violet, there’s no need to rush.” He moves closer and I tilt my head as his lips move against the shell of my ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re thoroughly wrecked, just like the girl in that smutty book of yours.” “Gods.” I moan and Liam laughs as he pulls away from my breast, lightly nipping before pulling back completely. “No gods here, just us. Though it’s quite the ego boost to be compared to a deity.” He says cockily as he goes on his knees in front of me, fingers making quick work of sliding into my waistband and sliding down my black leather pants and underwear. Leaving me completely bare for them. Xaden sucks on my neck, no doubt making leaving obvious marks that I won’t be able to cover. Liam helps me balance as he gets my pants off my legs and over my feet, flinging them across the room and quickly turning back to me. 

Xaden moves behind me, pulling me against him as we sit on the bed with me in his lap, arms wrapping around my torso and his legs wrapping around my own, opening me wide for Liam as he moves forward. Kissing from my knee up to my mid-thigh and then just over my clit and I arch into him, Xaden holds me tightly to him. “Beg,” Xaden says as I feel my wetness leak out and onto the bed. “Fuck, please. Liam, please. I need you. Make me cum please.” I gasp and his eyes meet mine. “With pleasure.” He says hungrily before surging forward, sucking my clit into his mouth and I gasp. One of his fingers moves to tease my cunt before sliding in and I tremble against both of them. Xaden moves my hair to the other side of my neck and leaves soft kisses from my neck to my jaw, fingers moving to pull at my nipples and I shudder against them. A second finger goes in and it has me arching in Xadens arms, his legs hold mine in place as Liam sucks on my clit and fucks his fingers into me, curling up to hit the right spot. “Fuck, fuck. Liam, please.” I can feel him smirk against me as I quickly barrel towards cumming. His fingers hitting just the right spot, Xaden's fingers roughly tug at my nipples and I can hardly get enough air into my lungs. “Be a good girl and cum for us Violet.” Xaden rasps and thats all I need to shatter, my body convulsing as Liam laps up my cum. Slowing his pace but not letting go until I’ve finished.

 Pulling back he looks up at me, cum dripping from his chin as he licks his lips. “You’re delicious.” He says to me and then looks to Xaden “I think she’s ready for you buddy.” Xaden’s movement stops as he slides up from underneath me and I fall back against my bed, still trying to catch my breath as my hair splays out around me. “We aren’t anywhere near done with you yet my sweet girl,” Xaden says and my eyes flick to his face, a coy smile lays on his lips as his lust-filled gaze looks me up and down. “I didn’t say I was done, just catching my breath.” I shoot at him and he smiles as he pulls his shirt off and makes quick work of his pants and briefs. Cock hard and standing against his stomach, glistening with precum. My eyes dart over to Liam whos fisting his impressively large cock staring down at me. “You boys gonna sit there and gawk at me or are you gonna fuck me?” I shoot at them in a snarky tone. “On your hands and knees Violet,” Xaden says in a gruff tone and I’m quick to comply, Liam stands at the edge of the bed as Xaden comes behind me and lands a sharp blow to my ass. I yelp and jump forward, the stinging only making me drip more. Liam catches my chin and has me look up at him. “Be a good girl for us and take him nice and deep.” “Yes sir,” I respond as Xaden teases my opening with the head of his cock, getting it wet with my cum before notching only the tip at my entrance. I try to push back on him but Xaden is quick to have a steely grip on my hip, holding me so I can only feel the slight stretch of his head. Liam has me looking up at him as Xaden then slams into me and I moan loudly. One hand moves to start rubbing circles on my clit as he sets a slow pace. “Be a good girl and suck his dick.” Xaden grunts and I nod opening my mouth and teasing Liam's tip with my tongue. Circling it as he continues jacking off the base of his cock, slowly letting me work it into my mouth. I drool around his thick cock and feel Liam wrap my hair around one of his hands. Xaden’s thrust begins to get harder as I feel the sting of him slapping my ass again. My hands fist my sheets as pleasure courses through my body, his cock hitting the same spot Liam did earlier. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, Liam's eyes are closed as I suck his cock as far back as I can. Hollowing out my cheeks as I feel the back of my throat burn, tears line my vision but I breathe out my nose and fight the gagging feeling that's arising. Liam pulls me back slightly and the feeling ebbs away as I bob my head on his cock. ‘Such a good little slut taking both of us so well.” Xaden moans and I feel my cunt squeeze at his words. “You like being called a good little slut?” I can feel the way your cunt is squeezing me so tight when I say it.” Xaden moans raggedly and Liam groans as I work him closer to cumming. My moans get caught in my throat as I feel Liam's cock twitch in my mouth. “Vi, I’m gonna cum.” Liam says in warning and I suck him deeper, his warm salty cum spills into my mouth and I swallow it all down as he pulls out and carefully unwinds his hand from my hair, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

 “Such a good girl,” he says breathily and Xaden picks up the pace behind me and my arms lose all feeling as my front collapses down. I rest my head on my arms as Xaden’s cock goes even deeper than before and I’m mewling as he has me barrelling toward my second orgasm. “Xaden, fuck please.” I cry and he speeds up the finger circling my slit. “Cum for me Violet.” My body shudders as my vision blackens. Xaden’s grip on my hip tightens to a near-bruising grip as he cums with my name tumbling from his lips, like a prayer needing to be heard. For a few moments, it feels like my body is floating as if my head is underwater.

 When my eyes open Xaden is over top of me, hands cradling my face and looking at me concerned. “Violet, are you okay?” All semblance of the dominant seductive tone from earlier is gone. “Yeah, I’m good.” I choke out hoarsely. “Vi, you slept through dinner didn’t you?” Liam asks and it takes me a second to move my head to look at him. He’s sprawled out on my bed, legs up the wall looking like some sort of god that needs worshiping. “Yeah, why?” He laughs and shakes his head. “She probably just crashed after her amazing orgasms dude. Get her some food and water and she’ll be fine.” Xaden flips Liam off as he carefully brings me against his chest, moving us so I’m in the middle of Xaden and Liam. Liam puts his legs over mine as Xaden drapes his arms over my chest and kisses my forehead. “So, is this a one-time thing?” I ask softly and Liam laughs. “We do have three days of no requirements, I don’t know about you but I’m not too inclined to leave this bed. Especially if I get a repeat of that.” Liam says and Xaden chuckles. “I think we’re all in agreeance then, 3 days in bed it is,” Xaden says and Liam pumps his fists up into the air. “Fuck yeah.” He whisper-shouts and we all laugh.

[witchysquirrel]

Epiphany

Chapter Eleven

Ravenna threw herself into anything that kept her from thinking too hard about Cassian. She’d spent most of the week leading up to Starfall in and out of Rhys’s study, and the library, mentally preparing to see Fetrin again. And avoiding Cassian. She’d been unable to shake the way she was feeling about him, so she decided it was better to just shove all thoughts aside instead, at least for right now. Her plan had been working quite well, until the Friday before the Ball. 

The healer had been in the library, losing herself in a book for the prior four hours that had passed since she’d arrived. When she ran out of positions to be in that didn’t cause her neck to ache, Ravenna closed her novel and rose to stretch her limbs. She rolled her neck, then decided to make her way back to her room to steam her gown before the following night's festivities. Upon realizing she hadn’t set foot outside for the entire day, she changed course and decided she’d allow herself to watch the sun continue to make its slow descent from the rooftop of the House. 

She yawned as she ascended the stairs to the roof, the well-manicured turf and asphalt of the training ring coming into view. Ravenna inhaled the warm evening air, the sky just beginning to turn a shade of pale pink, and took a seat on the top row of one of the bleachers that sat adjacent to the stairs she’d just come from. She closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze that circulated so high in the mountains; something about it felt like home to her. Ravenna watched the sun sink further and further, the sky turning from pink, to purple, to periwinkle, to blue, to black and sprinkled with stars. When the sky had finally gone dark, the lamplights that surrounded the training ring flickered on and illuminated the darkness with fluorescent light. She closed her eyes one more time to breathe in the evergreen air before heading inside, only to be jolted back to awareness all at once.

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Ravenna’s eyes shot open to find Cassian leaning against one of the lamp posts at the far end of the ring, giving her a small smile. She imagined she turned a bright shade of pink at the sight of him in only his leathers, his shirtless chest illuminated by the light above him. She swallowed, trying to ignore the flood of thoughts and feelings that broke the dam she’d put up over the past week at the sight of him.

“I was watching the sunset,” she replied softly. “What are you doing?”

“Came up for a nighttime training session. It’s been the only time I have the energy.”

Ravenna nodded, wetting her lips with her tongue. “Have you used a sword yet?” 

“I’ve held one. Lifted, carried, ran with one,” Cassian replied, lackadaisical as he made his way to the small armory cage at the other end of the turf. “Haven’t actually used one yet, like to fight with,” he finished, as he chose a hefty Obsidian sword from the wall and shifted its weight in his hands. Ravenna watched him carefully, leaning back on her palms and observing his wings when he turned his back to her for a moment. They looked like they were healing perfectly, although she could still make out the scars she’d created mending the skin back together.

“Bring it on, then,” Ravenna said a moment later, rising and heading for the armory herself. She’d gulped down whatever feelings threatened to spill from her head, focused now on the fact that Cassian had been trying to train and get back to his pre-injury level. Cassian raised an eyebrow at her, but smiled so radiantly that Ravenna had to look away. She perused the weapons on the wall, settling on a more slender, lightweight Obsidian and moved to meet him in the center of the training ring. 

“I didn’t know healers even knew how to hold a sword!” Cassian jabbed.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Ravenna answered, slicing a diagonal line through the air dramatically as she approached. “I happen to be very talented with this thing.”

“Let’s see it,” he dared, laughing a little and widening his stance. She lunged, and his sword caught hers as it fell, sending her balance the opposite direction. Ravenna recovered quickly, and the two began to spar as night continued to fall on Velaris. Ravenna thanked the gods her body could count on the muscle memory of hand to hand combat she’d learned so long ago, long abandoned unless she really needed to defend herself without magic. It also helped that Cassian was not at full strength, otherwise she might’ve grown tired after twenty minutes.

After a good half hour more, Ravenna wielded a particularly hefty swing in Cassian’s direction and was surprised to hear a grunt and a thud as he hit the ground. She caught her breath, but Cassian stayed crouched with his head down, and her heart dropped.

“Are you okay?” she asked, dropping her sword and moving towards him. When she had nearly reached him, face etched with worry as she went to examine his wings, he turned around faster than she could comprehend and tackled her to the ground in one swift motion. She squealed as they fell, both of them laughing like children upon impact.

“I thought you were hurt!” Ravenna protested, smacking his chest from where she lay encompassed by his wings. Cassian flinched slightly, faking shock at her assault, but continued laughing. Their eyes met for a moment and Ravenna felt that familiar sensation begin to spread through her chest, down somewhere deep within her where she felt exposed, as if he could see right through her. Her smile faded as she began to panic once more, that feeling of vulnerability that so terrified her and threatened to destroy their friendship rising in her throat. She pulled away, and pretended to be shocked by what time it was. 

“Oh shit,” she said, pushing off of him and rising to her feet. “It’s so late. I still need to steam my gown before tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You should,” he said quietly, as she re-racked her sword and made for the door. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Cass,” she called, looking back one more time before she disappeared back down the stairs and into the House. Cassian remained, still sitting on the pitch with his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the door she’d left through. 

“See you then.” 

-

Ravenna was out of breath by the time she made it back to her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She tried to slow down her breathing as she started the process of steaming her gown for the following day. As she hung the black silk from a knob in her bathroom, she thought about everything she’d been feeling and had just felt. It became very evident to her, as she filled the steamer with tap water, that she could not continue to ignore the way she felt about Cassian. She was scared to ruin their friendship, yes, but she was coming to the conclusion that avoiding him so intensely was also ruining their friendship. She couldn’t go on like this forever.

Ravenna decided she was content with coming to that realization tonight, and took a few more deep breaths. Her mind shifted to the most imminent threat now, the fact that she had less than twenty four hours until she would see Fetrin again. She was unsure how to feel about it, now that it was so close. Instead she focused on the wrinkles in the gown, more specifically, on making them non-existent. This was a mind-numbing enough task that eventually her heart rate began to slow, and by the time she finished she was exhausted and more than ready to fall into her bed. 

When Ravenna woke the next morning, there was a split second of bliss before she remembered that tonight was Starfall and she would be attending the Ball in an attempt to sweet talk her ex-fiance. It all sounded like something Ravenna might read in one of her novels, not something that would actually happen in her ordinary life. But here she was. She still stayed in bed as long as was virtually possible, before she hauled herself up. 

She rose from bed slowly, and drew a warm bath for herself, tossing a few lavender sprigs and herbs in with the hot water. It was still early enough, and she wanted to at least try to enjoy her morning without the crushing weight of anxiety in her chest. When she was sufficiently clean and bathed, she wrapped herself in a towel and sat at the mirror to comb her hair. The black locks had been tangled and the de-tangling process took quite a bit of effort. After about ten minutes of combing, her dark hair fell in tendrils down her back, still damp. 

She surveyed herself in the mirror once more, admiring the way her features looked when she was completely clean-faced, free of makeup or alteration. Her Fae-ness was almost more evident in the natural slopes and lines of her face, the thick black lashes that framed soft, round eyes. Ravenna dressed in a simple maroon tunic and leathers, heading for the dining room to get breakfast. 

Ravenna found Mor at the dining table alone, thumbing through some sort of magazine and eating a banana. 

“Hey sister,” Ravenna said, tousling Mor’s hair as she passed to take the seat across from her with a blueberry scone in hand. 

“Ravenna! Just who I wanted to see,” she mused, turning towards the healer with wide, brown eyes. “We should get ready for the Ball together.”

“Yes please! I’m going to need help doing something with my hair. I’m not very good at any of that,” Ravenna replied, running her fingers through the ends of her curls.

“I’m not either, but maybe if we combine forces we’ll put out an acceptable finished product,” Mor replied with a smile. “How are you feeling about it all?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m excited about the Fetrin side of things,” she said, taking a chunk of muffin and popping it in her mouth. “But I’m honestly kind of looking forward to dressing up and looking pretty.”

Mor smiled again. “I never thought I’d hear you say such a thing! Don’t say people never change,” she replied. Ravenna rolled her eyes playfully and continued in on her breakfast. “Well why don’t you come to my room around 4:00 and we can get ready together and then go over there?”

“I’ll see you at 4:00 then, champagne or wine?” Ravenna asked.

“Mmmm…. Let’s do champagne. Tamer, so you can still focus. You’re gonna love it though, seriously. I was over at the hall this morning and the floral arrangement is ridiculous.”

Ravenna laughed as she finished the rest of her muffin, pushing up from the table once more. “See you at 4:00 then.”

-

At 3:57, Ravenna made her way across the House to Mor’s suite on the opposite end, two bottles of champagne and a luxury gown in tow. When she arrived, she found that Mor already had a record spinning at full volume on the huge wooden record player atop her coffee table, next to which was an open bottle of gin. Ravenna’s mood lifted almost instantly, and she joined her friend, popping the first bottle of champagne and pouring them each a glass.

The females perched in front of the expansive bathroom mirror that framed the double-sink vanity, applying various rouges and glitters. Mor opted for a scarlet red lip, while Ravenna stuck with more of a black cherry color. The more the bubbles spread through her chest, the more confident Ravenna felt. Mor had helped her to braid her hair back into a neat plait that crowned her waves. By the time she was ready to put on her gown, she was sure she’d catch Fetrin’s eye immediately. Rhys had assured her he was, in fact, planning to make an appearance. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to have known that or not. Fortunately, after her second glass of champagne, she had nearly forgotten how nervous she was.

Once she had her gown on and zipped, cinched in the places she wanted it to hug her body more, she zipped Mor up, and they were on their way. Mor wore a stunning crimson gown that was every bit her style, yet somehow elevated even further. Her golden hair was tucked nicely into a low bun that Ravenna was sure would come undone by her fifth drink tonight. 

Rhysand and Azriel, who had offered to fly the girls to the Ball, met them on the balcony. Ravenna resisted the urge to ask where Cassian was, and doubly resisted the urge to provoke his voice in her head. She knew he would be there, she just hoped he would be nearby in case something happened, she explained to the voice in her head. Ravenna flew with Rhys, who she scolded for the turbulent ride that made her head spin at times. 

“Remember, we’ll always be around,” Rhys said to her as they coasted. “I’ll introduce myself to him personally as well.”

“Thanks,” she answered. “I’ll be okay, I think, honestly. One more drink and I’ll be a social butterfly.”

“Cassian and Az will be keeping a constant eye out regardless,” Rhys said, glancing down at her.

“What?” she said, furrowing her brows at the High Lord above her.

“What?” he repeated.

“You made a face,” Ravenna replied.

“I did not make a face,” Rhys answered coolly. “I’m just telling you that Cassian will be there, he’s just not with us right now.”

Ravenna didn’t respond for a moment, looking out at the sky around them. “I didn’t ask,” she answered. “But thanks, anyway.”

They landed smoothly, and Ravenna only stumbled slightly upon impact. She straightened out her skirts, smoothing the gown against her legs. The fabric hugged the fullness of her hips comfortably, cascading up to hold the weight of her breasts up, while the rest of the open back was covered with the sheer cape imbued with rhinestones. She took a deep breath and took Rhysand’s outstretched arm, allowing him to lead her into the hall with Mor and Azriel right behind them. She held her head high, allowing a smile to grace her lips. Rhys led them to the bar, a move that Ravenna appreciated deeply. 

The healer ordered a glass of wine to sip on, the last ingredient she needed in order to have the confidence to do what she needed to. Mor hadn’t overexaggerated when she said the hall had been decorated beautifully. There were marvelous strings of lights illuminating the cathedral-like room, the entrance adorned with an archway of flora and fauna of greens and whites and golds. It was beautiful. She decided to make her way out to the balcony at the end of the room, as the sun was setting quickly behind the mountains and she wanted to catch it from such an amazing space.

She rested against the railing of the balcony, admiring the sun on her face as it made its departure behind Velaris. Ravenna continued sipping her wine, focused on enjoying the change from day to night that made Starfall so magnificent. 

I like the gown.

Ravenna turned from where she stood at the rail of the balcony, her heart picking up speed in her chest and her head feeling the rush of the champagne that made Cassian’s voice in her head sound like it was dripping honey. He stood before her now, in a sleek, all black suit, adorned with gold. His hair was half tied back, wings looming behind him. He smelled like he had just stepped out of the shower, freshly shaven, like clean laundry and evergreen. His brown eyes widened as their eyes met, and once again, she watched Cassian’s gaze drift down her body and then back up to her face, an almost glazed look on his face. She’d never say it out loud, but she loved the way he was looking at her.

Thanks. You look nice too.

Ravenna almost felt lightheaded, looking up at him, his scent becoming overwhelming, intoxicating. His face was illuminated by the faintest glow of the moon that was beginning to replace the sun, and she could see the stars starting to freckle the dark sky behind him. He looked beautiful. She hoped she hadn’t accidentally said that into his mind too.

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by someone Ravenna had not seen in about 30 years, and had not spoken to in centuries. 

“Ravenna Annric,” he breathed, and suddenly she felt as if she’d been transported to a different time, looking up into eyes darker than her own, jet black hair that showed no hint of change from when they were seventeen. She let it shake her for a split second, until she blinked and started playing the role she’d been practicing for.

“Fetrin?” she gasped, eyes wide, as if she’d thought she’d never see him again (she hadn’t). He leaned forward to embrace her, and she fought the urge to get lost in his scent and the memories it triggered. 

“It’s good to see you again,” he breathed. His picture perfect smile revealed the lines near his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time they’d spoken. He looked like he’d grown up at some point. Ravenna made sure to blink slowly, looking up at him with round eyes and soft lashes.

“You too,” Ravenna mused. “I thought I’d never see you again… after the way we left things. It was a shot in the dark that I sent that invitation.” She turned to introduce Cassian, but found that he was no longer next to her. 

“I’m glad you did,” Fetrin answered, looking at her intently. Ravenna sipped her wine once more, for another boost of courage. She sensed that she did have the upper hand in this dynamic; that perhaps he felt ashamed of the reason she had left him.

“Well, welcome to the Night Court,” she said, resting a hand on his arm and guiding him back inside. “I’d love to hear more about what you’ve been up to, after we get you a drink.” He allowed her to lead him through the glass doors from the balcony into the greater room. Ravenna scanned the room quickly, but still could not place Cassian, though she saw Rhys chatting with a group of Winter Court officials across the throng of Fae. 

Ravenna exchanged her half empty glass of wine for two champagne flutes from a nearby waiter, handing one to Fetrin. 

“To reconnecting with old friends,” she said, raising her glass to him. He tipped his head to her, clinking his glass to hers, and they both sipped in silence for a moment. She met his eyes over her glass, looking away again quickly. 

“So what have you been up to all these years?” Fetrin asked as he scanned the room. “I never knew where exactly you went after you left.” His voice grew quieter towards the end.

“I became a healer for the Night Court army,” Ravenna answered. “I’ve mostly been here ever since, healing for the High Lord and his battalions. I’ll introduce you later.”  

“Of course,” Fetrin breathed, “healing always made you shine.”

She smiled up at him. “I was made for it, I think.” He grinned back at her, then let his eyes wander, taking her in from head to toe. Ravenna pretended she didn’t notice. 

“What about you?” she asked. “What have you been doing?”

“I do a lot of diplomatic work right now,” he answered, looking around again and then leaning in closer to her ear. “They just offered me Lead Emissary.”

Ravenna pretended to be surprised and utterly wowed by this admission, gushing over his accomplishment. “I’m so proud of you, that is so exciting! I always knew you’d get it.”

“I don’t even know how I got the position, honestly. There were so many other great candidates.” Ravenna knew how he got the position, as the outgoing Lead Emissary was Fetrin’s father. 

“No one is quite as good as you, Fetrin,” she cooed, leaning into him as he puffed his chest out a little more. Ravenna was almost shocked at how easy it was. Just by chance, Ravenna caught Rhys’s eye across the room at that moment, and he moved to make his way through the crowd of High Fae in their finery. She patiently awaited his arrival, sipping on the champagne she still held.

A/N: I tried to make this chapter a little longer and was going to keep going but decided I need to break it up a little because I've been writing for too long tonight LOL. Do we prefer shorter or longer?? Let me know. I also kinda wanna share my vision for the looks for the Ball because ugh so cute. Anyways, enjoy <3

Epiphany Masterlist

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter four.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Day 97 - Better known as the first day you reunite with Section Commander Hange Zoe, who has their own plans to recovering your memory.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Eventual Romance, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Nonbinary Hange Zoe, Angry!Levi, Other Additional Tags to be Added As the Story Progresses

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER FOUR.

There is something therapeutic about cleaning.

Clearing stubborn dust in every corner and pesky grime from the floorboards brings a sense of accomplishment — a sense of control, to your day.

It's not what you thought you'd be doing in the midst of preparing for your first official training session with the military, but Petra Ral claims this is how the Scouts indoctrinate all the new recruits.

A rite of passage, so to speak, to learn how important it is to mind your space.

(She's quick to mention you've already completed said rite in another life.)

Petral Ral, better known to you as the girl from Erwin's file, is a devastatingly perky and short redhead with stars in her eyes. Despite the harrowing business of being a Scout, she speaks like she's on the most incredible adventure of her life.

A novel-quality crusade.

She greets you with such excitement upon your arrival with Erwin Smith that you can't help but feel relief that this is your intermittent handler. You don’t remember Petra, not in the way she hopes you will, but she parades you around the rendezvous castle like it's your first day.

Because, according to her, she's just repeating history: she was the one to do this just a few short years ago.

Before you get your hands on military gear and weapons, Petra first offers you a broom and dust pan. "Scrubbing down the common room mess space is first priority," she supplies, holding up her own broom. "You might want to take a cloth to keep your hair out of your face. When you're done with the mess space, you can start on your room. You hold a broom like this, and—"

"Petra," you start, and she waits patiently for your reply. "I'm not braindead, just blank. I remember how to clean."

"You do?"

"Yes," you reassure with a breathy laugh, holding the broom handle with a half-assed sweep of your arm. "Ta-da."

She squeaks in embarrassment, bringing her gloved hand to her mouth.

"Gosh, I'm sorry! This really is just like old times! I'm getting deja vu just looking at you."

"In a good or bad way?"

"Oh, good. Definitely good. You were so fun back then," Petra reassures with a bright grin. "But go, go, go — I'll see you for lunch!"

So you're here some odd hours later, scrubbing down the common room mess space and clearing your swirling mind.

You don't know where Petra's gone, but she can't possibly be far.

This is nice.

Quiet. Manageable.

Tirelessly flinging cobwebs from the ceiling corners, you wipe a hand over your shining forehead and draw a short sigh. This place is looking good. Beyond an improvement to what you first faced upon entering this seemingly abandoned castle.

At least you remember how to make a room spotless—

“Ahh!”

A shrill shriek from behind breaks your peace.

It’s so loud that the broom handle fumbles from your hands and clangs to the floor.

“There she is!”

Startled, you turn to address the danger head-on.

A person with wild brown hair and a military uniform stands in the door of the hallway, fingers folded tightly together at the center of their chest. The Scout crest at their breast distorts by how hard they press their folded palms into their body, like they’re using every ounce of willpower not to—

Too late.

Their arms swing wide as they near. Before you can open your mouth, your body’s being squeezed into a tight hug. 

“And look — all limbs intact! Wow, talk about a lucky break, huh? I thought for sure we’d be seeing a missing appendage or two.”

For good measure, they back up just enough to pick up your hand from the wrist. Tugging the eye glasses from their forehead, they squint and lean in to observe the remaining bandages.

You should say something.

What do you say?

“Uh — hi?”

Nailed it.

Belatedly, the preoccupied person flashes a look back to your face, considering in a haze.

Then the dots connect.

“Oh, right! Duh. Maybe no missing limbs but you’re missing memories. Allow me to re-introduce myself: Hange, Section Commander, at your service.” They smile wide. “Captain Levi told me where you were staying, so I thought maybe I’d make a visit.”

Wait.

Captain Levi knows where you’re staying?

(Why does it always have to circle back to him?)

“And when you weren’t there, I asked around — Petra knew!”

“Oh,” you reply lamely, embarrassed that you can’t match their elated energy. Hange doesn’t hide their excitement, so you cannot hide your hesitance.

Maybe the surprise touch has something to do with it, but this encounter already feels different. As if Hange is a long-awaited crisp breeze on the first day of Spring. You find yourself wanting to hug them again, to see if the spark lingers.

“Yeah. Commander Erwin gave me over to Petra for the week. I haven’t seen the Captain.”

“Oh, you haven’t? Color me a little shocked.” Hange drops their arms from you to wipe some strands of hair from their face. “Well? Any new discoveries since you first woke up?”

“A few,” you admit, bending to pick up the broom lying on the ground. “Commander Erwin got me to remember a little bit about where I came from and how, uh… being in the Scouts was kind of my whole life.”

“Part of the job description,” Hange bemuses before mimicking Erwin’s deep voice for the salute. “Dedicate Your Heart — every artery and then some.”

The endearing attempt at imitating the commander makes you snort despite yourself, and you sweep one final pile of dust into the pan.

“At least you feel familiar. The Commander and the Captain were like blank slates.”

It’s as though you’ve said the most magical thing to the Section Commander's ears. Their smile now bursts into a grin.

“Ch’yeah, I’d say you and I got into some wacky adventures in our day. Of course, only when you weren’t so busy in the corner with Levi.” The grin falters if only for a fraction. “Though I must say, I’m really surprised he wasn’t the first.”

Your brows knit. “The first what?”

“The first person that you would remember — at least, in feeling.”

“Everyone keeps implying that,” you tell them, crossing the room to settle the broom against the frame of a bookshelf. “Except the one time that I saw him, which was the first day, it sounded like he hated me.”

“Hated you?” Hange blurts. “Captain Levi hating you is about as true as me hating titans.”

You blink. “That… comparison escapes me, Section Commander.”

They lean in with a flippant shrug. “Hange, please. And I don’t hate titans at all. They’re incredible, fascinating, the thing I think about all the time.” Heat rises to your face. Hange doesn’t let up. “I think he’s just a bit grumpy since — well, I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you.”

Eyes widening, you step closer to the other person.

“No — do. I wanna hear it. Seriously, living in the dark about this whole thing is probably a hindrance to remembering anything at all.”

“Hey, that’s what I said.” Hange laughs. “Still in sync, even when you’re not You!"

They pause for a moment, holding up their index finger.

"Actually let’s shelve the Levi debacle for a bit, because I thought maybe I could give you something and see what you think about it.”

“Give me something?” you repeat.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not like a gift or anything.” They reconsider, slipping a hand into the breast pocket of their uniform jacket. “Well, for you, it might be.”

It’s a small and flat brown box, only a few centimeters tall and not very wide.

Hange holds it out for you, nodding down to it — take it — and you meet them in the middle.

Nothing sparks while holding the box, and it takes every ounce of your curiosity not to give the thing a preliminary shake to hear what’s inside.

Your fingers pry the top lid off—

And it hits.

Like a lightning strike to the heart, you drop the lid to the floor, hand limp.

Silver — unassuming, dainty, but very obviously a necklace. There is barely anything special about the fragile jewelry, but emotion swells and threatens to choke you up and out. From the bottom of the chain dangles a small gemstone, swirling in stormy gray color. It looks well-loved, worn, but still manages to glimmer in the soft sunlight peering in from the open windows.

The pad of your index finger brushes along the smooth surface.

A drop of water splashes on it.

(Are you crying?)

Glancing up to look at Hange confirms that you’re not only crying, but sobbing.

Streams of tears drag along your cheeks as you let out a broken breath, confused yet relieved. The bottom half of the box drops, too, joining its sister on the floor as you clutch the necklace to your chest. 

You can’t explain any of this, but you know.

You know this is the one thing you subconsciously hoped to see, to feel, one day.

“You kept it.”

The blurted sentence is barely above a murmur.

Hange draws an inhale through their nose.

“When Captain Levi brought you in on horseback after your accident, I was the first to receive you,” they explain, softer this time. You watch them through a watery lens. “There was little to no time. Your uniform was torn to pieces. When the doctors were preparing you for the emergency surgery — you’d lost a lot of blood while traveling, and we weren’t sure how deep the cut wounds went — I took that necklace off of you in hopes that one day I could give it back.”

Your heart swells with an overwhelming gratitude you can’t quite place into words. Hange nears cautiously and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“That necklace went everywhere with you. In all our years of serving together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take it off.”

“It’s important to me,” you reason with certainty. Hange nods with empathy.

You don't even realize what you're saying, but it comes from the heart.

“...I’ve had it since I was a kid. This was the only thing I owned in the Underground. Before I joined the Scouts, I didn’t even own my own clothes. They were — they were stolen. Everything was stolen. I had nothing. Nothing except this.”

With trembling fingers, you try to unhook the clasp and fail. Twice. Hange tsk-tsk’s with their tongue and drop their hand to close around both of your hands.

“C’mon, you big softie. Let me?”

You sniff and nod, pushing hair away to give them an avenue to your neck. Hange easily situates the chain around your neck and secures the clasp. The cold chain presses to your body like a weighted blanket.

Your shoulders slack with its comfort the minute you can press the gem between your thumb and index finger.

“There. Feel better?”

“Loads,” you admit in a sigh, wiping your eyes with your free hand. “Sorry for the outburst, Hange, it just—”

“Hey, happy to help. Look! You remembered something.”

They’re right.

Something so small brought such a visceral emotion to the forefront.

Rolling the gemstone between your fingers, you forcefully smile in return. What you say next rolls right off your tongue. “You know... you’ve always asked me where this came from, and now I’ve accidentally divulged that story. Talk about a dirty trick, Hange.”

“Whoa, I—” They start but reconsider. Hange doesn’t give it away immediately, but the section commander’s surprise is palpable the longer your words linger in the air. “Damn, you remember that?”

You do.

Clear as day, in fact, with the way they’re looking at you right now. Sitting right in this very room — you were both at the table situated in the corner, though it's now crowded by four chairs you've scrubbed vigorously clean. When you blink towards them, you can see the silhouette of Hange's frustrated hands flying high into the air. You're leaning back in the chair, tipping it with the heel of your boot pressed against the table's edge with a laugh.

“Oh, c'mon! Stop being such a tease and tell me about it already. It’s just a necklace!”

“That doesn't sound right,” you tease, grinning ear to ear as you absently roll the gemstone between your fingers. “If it's just a necklace, then how come you wanna know about it so bad, huh?”

Hange groans in the pale torch light, sliding down into their seat in dramatized agony. “Be-cause I just watched a five-meter titan almost snap the damn thing in half."

“So?”

“So! I saw how fast you sliced that thing up! You went totally berserk, like you had a personal vendetta.”

You chuckle low, burying your chin in the mouth of the emerald green cape around your shoulders.

“Five-meter titans should learn not to touch my stuff, then.”

“Hey, shitheads.”

Except that last part is something you hear with your own two ears, now, in the present.

A deep voice unlike yours or Hange’s.

Your heart skips a beat. You turn your chin to acknowledge it.

Levi Ackerman stands in the door frame dressed with a similar green cloak you wore in your vision. He’s wearing the same Scout uniform as Hange, but with a pressed white shirt and a flare of his own cravat nestled at the neck. His black hair falls over his eyes, shoulder pressed into the door frame, but he doesn’t look at you.

His eyes land directly on an all-too giddy Hange.

“So much for telling me that you arrived,” he mumbles.

Hange gives him a one-shoulder shrug. “Oh, you know I couldn’t help but find her for myself. The Commander caught me up to speed in a letter.”

“I would argue that that sort of information should remain out of letters, don’t you?” Levi asks as he nudges a boot into the room to join the conversation.

“Too late for that!” Hange sing-songs, pulling you into their side. “We were just catching up.”

Levi’s brow raises by a centimeter on his forehead. “...catching up.”

“Yep! It seems like I’m top of the team leaderboard for most memories. Amazing what happens when you try to work with victims of memory loss.”

It feels like a direct jab to Levi’s effort — or lack thereof — but he doesn’t react to it.

Not yet, anyway.

Because a whole world of awkwardness comes to a head when his eyes flicker to your face, then down, and stop.

Hange says nothing, but you feel it — their hand curled around your arm grips tighter.

Your chin drops to see what he’s staring at:

The necklace between your fingers.

When you stare back up, you’re certain Captain Levi has changed an entire shade of pale.

“—anyways!”

Hange’s voice cuts through the heavy silence as they squeeze you one last time into their side before letting go.

“I gotta go check in with the Commander. You two have fun catching up, alright?”

They pass with a bounce in their step, but not before stopping at the captain to all-too-whimsically point out the obvious.

“Look, Levi, she’s cleaning!”

He doesn’t have a snarky comeback this time.

Hell, he doesn’t even say goodbye to Hange when they exit, leaving the two of you to a room full of uncomfortable air.

If you so much as breathe in longer than a second, then it threatens to suffocate you.

Three whole months of nothing, and now?

There’s no excuse.

“You missed a spot,” he finally tells you, gesturing to the back left corner.

“Huh?” you mumble, turning to observe. “I haven't gotten to that part yet.”

“Sure.”

That’s all he had to say?

This was the big reunion everyone waited for?

Subconsciously your other hand raises to your necklace in order to tuck the jewelry into your gray button-up.

“You never visited me a second time.”

“I did,” he corrects, and your eyes narrow.

“I never saw you.”

“You were asleep.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies. “Wait, really?”

“Do you think I care enough to lie?” When you blink twice from how biting his tone is, he sighs to himself. “Yeah, I visited.”

Although you probably shouldn't believe him, you do. The sigh is as much of a surprise as his confession. Like he's resigned to chip a part of the wall he builds between you.

So you speak with honesty, too. “I’m sorry I missed you, then.”

His brow twitches.

“Why?”

“Because contrary to the nature of our first encounter, I’ve wanted to speak to you.”

At first he says nothing, opting to merely study your expression. You try to remain confident, chin up and expectant.

“Did you remember something?” he asks.

“Yeah." He doesn't react. "I have been remembering bits and pieces, but…”

You venture to a chair to your left at the newly-cleaned table, sitting with a short huff. It feels nice to get off of your feet.

“...that’s all they are. Bits and pieces to bigger outlines, bigger pictures, that I don’t have."

"Sorry to hear that," he tells you, evidently not sorry at all.

Your brows furrow as you lean forward, taking the time to really look at the shorter man this time. "Except something weird happens every time I talk to someone. Specifically Commander Erwin."

"Which is?"

"The commander is pretty hellbent on mentioning your name every time we have a conversation."

Levi’s stare hardens. “Right.”

"In fact, Hange just now mentioned you.” You pause. “Aren't you curious about what they say?"

"No."

The word leaves his mouth too fast. You realize instantly that it's a lie. You press on.

"They tell me that you know me."

He scoffs. "I already told you that, dumbass."

"No you didn't."

"I did," he argues. "In Trost."

"Your twenty-question crusade three months ago is not the same as just telling me how I know you," you snap right back. "This isn't some acquaintanceship. They act like I know you incredibly well. Better than I'm supposed to know Hange or Petra or Erwin. And they all refuse to talk for you."

“As the shitheads should.”

This conversation is running in circles and getting nowhere.

Whereas Levi sticks to his conviction, your shoulders deflate.

"Captain..." You begin to stand, voice softening. “Captain, I want to—”

“Excuse me,” he abruptly states, turning on his heel to walk to the hallway.

By the time you stand at full height to follow after him, he’s already shut the door behind him.

.

.

.

.

.

“Hange.”

Their name is acidic on the tip of his tongue on purpose.

This isn’t a game.

Hange knows, too, because they take their fine fucking time walking down the hallway. Like — if the way they turn on a heel with a pursed smile is any indicator — that they already knew the conversation in that room with you would be short.

Levi can feel his blood boiling well over its limit. His hands are itchy, like they need to be doing something, so he digs half-crescent moons into his palms instead.

Hard, so it hurts.

Pain is one hell of a drug.

“Levi!” they call, feigning ignorance. “How was your talk with—”

“You kept it.”

It, because Levi knows he doesn’t need to elaborate on what exactly they’ve done. Over and over the scene replays in his head: the turn of your chin, your torso, with the glitter of silver in the afternoon sun just between your fingers at the collar of your shirt.

“I don’t know what you mean,” they sing-song, and Levi’s nostrils flare.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

“Oh — what, are you referring to the Lieutenant’s necklace?”

The first card is on the table in full show, and Levi’s all-too certain Hange believes they have a winning hand.

The white cravat at his neck threatens to choke him out when he swallows, maintaining a mere shred of his nonchalance.

“Of course I kept it, silly," they add.

“Why?”

“Even I knew how important it was to her.”

The sentence turns his tongue to lead.

Important.

“When did you take it?” he chooses to ask, pushing through the strain on his vocal chords.

“Before the doctors prepped for surgery, duh. Why? What’s so important about that stupid thing to you anyway?” Then they grin, and Levi knows he’s in deep shit. “Care to finally elab-or-ate?”

Each syllable is annunciated with such sickening clairvoyance that he instinctually turns the other way, opposite of the mess space.

Away.

Away, away, away—

“Oh, come on, Levi!” 

“Not now, Four Eyes.”

“But we just started getting to the bottom of this mystery!”

Too late. Hange’s lanky ass legs get the better of him. They outpace his stalking and eliminate the distance he’d been trying to clear.

For someone notorious for ending fights, he sure didn’t know why he started this one. Levi doesn’t want to be a part of this experiment, this thing, where they treat you like a fragile baby bird waiting for the moment you’re strong enough to fly on your own.

It’s insulting.

You were — are — more than that.

“There is no mystery,” Levi sours.

“Oh, please,” Hange groans. “I may not have perfect vision, but I’m not blind. You looked like you witnessed a titan trying to learn how to tap dance.”

“Fuck off.”

“Y’know, you’re going to have to tell her eventually before someone else does.”

So they did have a winning hand.

Levi abruptly stops walking to finally face the taller person. Hange’s tone remains in a sing-song, but their smile all but disappears. 

“Excuse me?”

“We all knew her, Levi. We know her,” Hange corrects. “Perhaps not as well as you, but things are going to start slipping out.”

“Not if you keep your damn mouth shut.”

“Why?” they challenge, crossing their arms over their chest. “I’d actually quite like my friend to fully remember me someday.”

“They won’t be honest memories, then,” Levi argues. “Just whatever shit you put in her head so you feel better about it.”

“What a pessimistic way of looking at it.”

“It’s our reality.”

Hange sighs in that way that Levi hates: saddened, like they know something he doesn’t.

He’s heard it countless times before the scientist made a devastating, truth-shattering discovery.

“Then I suppose you don’t want to hear that it helped.”

Levi turns into stone.

Hange pretends to be interested in the cuticles of their nails, tone light and airy. “Oh, didn't you ask? Or are you still pretending she’s a tree with legs in HQ’s yard?”

“You’re lying.”

“Now that’s just hurtful.” The smile returns. “Look, Levi: the minute she took a look at that necklace in the box, it was like she came back to us. Even if just for a moment, I swear, it was her. I’m no cranial injury genius, but I like to think that the more she interacts with things that are important to her, the more memories it may trigger.”

The sharp pain in his palm returns.

Had he been holding that fist this entire time?

Things that are important to her.

Even without its origins spelled out, the necklace meant something to you. You wore it under your uniform just as you always had before the accident. Close to the chest, its meaning hidden from most of the world.

Maybe Pyxis has the right idea to drink on the job, because Levi’s one more bad day from breaking open a cork just to taste something a little more bitter than what fate’s allowed.

(What memories came back to you?)

He could ask.

He could play stupid just to see if Hange’s telling the truth.

He’d rather get swallowed whole, but it’s better than turning around and asking you.

“What did she remember?”

Hange, thrilled that he’s taken the bait, leans in to keep the conversation private. 

“She told me that the silver necklace came with her from the Underground.” Oh. “She’s had it since she was a kid.” Oh, shit. “Said it was the only thing she’s ever owned.” Shitting shit. “Sounds like the exact same story she told me when Erwin made her a Scout — the whole fend-for-yourself mentality, the crappy childhood, blah-blah-blah. We don’t need to dive back into all of that.”

No, he doesn’t.

What he needs is to take a breath, but his lungs stopped working twenty words ago.

Hange is waiting for the gotcha right on the tip of their tongue, a years’ long question in the making, but he refuses.

Can’t — because those are your secrets to tell, not his.

“Is that it?” He asks, feigning neutrality.

“You sort of interrupted the epiphany,” Hange grins, “but yeah. That’s all. Nothing’s stopping you from turning around and hearing it for yourself, you know. I’m sure it’ll make you feel a hell of a lot less crummy if you do.”

Yeah, it probably would.

Because your memory’s coming back, with or without him.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has sent me anons about this story! I'm having so much fun writing it. I appreciate your likes and notes xo.

[sleepyspnap]

i like it when you sleep- Eddie Munson X Reader 18+

tags- Perv!Eddie, (afab reader, gender & race neutral,) Consentual somnophilia, breeding kink, daddy issues, angst for a sec, Daddy kink, mention of slapping, plugs, light bdsm, degradation, praise, fluffy smut & rough smut, best friends to lovers, medium burn. Pet names: baby, bunny, pretty, angel

Description: You slowly fell in love with your best friend. For all his quirks and disgusting behavior. You find comfort in his idiocy and his looming presence. One night, his desperation takes hold and you find yourself exploring something new with him.

TAGLIST

7.6k Words 18+ BELOW THE CUT MINORS DNI

-

You and Eddie had been friends since you started Hawkins highschool last Autumn. You loved how much of a statement he made in the bleak town both of you quickly agreed upon leaving in the dust when summer rolled around and you both walked across the stage.

You fit right in with his group of boys that dangled with admonished eyes at every display, every word, every story. They saw him as a god amongst hormone riddled boys.

You however, saw very differently. Not afraid to call him an idiot, not afraid to scold him into studying, which led to study sessions in his trailer. It was those dumb study sessions where you fell irreparably in love with Eddie Munson.

He was not the brave warrior of his little character. He was still loud as when he threw on a show, yes, but everything he said was with passion and enthusiasm. He held a joy about him you grew addicted to.

He was soft at times. He’d read you excerpts from the novels he borrowed from the book store you worked at. He would sit and chatter in the smoke filled room as you passed a blunt between you two, giggling yourselves to sleep.

It was so disgustingly obvious how in love with him you were. You essentially followed him like a puppy the you had to catch him in the hallways. You always asked him everything in a bright way that only someone utterly obsessed with everything about someone would say.

It caught on however. You’d find the same gooey look in his eyes when he’d watch you flip through pages of a textbook.

You’re not sure when it was that it crossed the border to more than friends. It wasn’t like falling in love for the both of you. It was drifting right into it, letting it take over as you slowly dropped every wall around hiding your feelings.

It started with a kiss to the cheek on occasion. It developed slow, into small pecks on the face in the quiet space between you when you’d stay over.

The first time you kissed was like you’d done it a million times, and you could do it a million more.

The slip of his lips was easy, you both slid together in sync, a perfect balance.

You never addressed it really. The both of you just embraced what felt right, not caring for the formalities of what proper courting was.

He’d kiss you soft as you left, you’d smile into it, taking in the slight taste of cigarettes on his lips.

“See ya” He’d whisper, before recapturing you. You shake your head with that love sick grin that he teased you for.

-

And together you both graduated later that year. You’d wrapped your arms so tightly around him in pride. He laughed burying his face in your hair.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” You muttered. Pulling away as others approached you.

“I knew you had it in you!” Eddie's uncle clapped him on the back. He smiled his big dopey grin at you, his and Eddies both shared similarities.

While you saw him on brief occasions, all of which were pleasant, the way eddie talked about him was full of joyful moments.

He really cared about Eddie, and Eddie cared for you, so he offered with open arms a hug.

You accepted it with almost watery eyes.

You spotted your dad approaching, stiffening up a bit and pulling away from Wayne.

“Dad!” You said as he approached, he grumbled curses as he wiped sweat from his brow.

“You got the paper?” He asked curtly, you felt your body tense as he was in an irritable mood already.

“Uh yeah, its in this.” You handed him the book-ish folder that your diploma was in.

“Ok, let's get going then it’s hot.”

You knew he didn't want to come originally. Knew his tantrums were bound to flair up in the inconvenience of it all. He was spoiling your excitement like water to a match tip.

“Actually, uhm, I was gonna go celebrate with Eddie and Wayne.” You said, motioning to where Eddie seemed to grit his teeth at your fathers attitude.

“Alright, call me later if your coming home.”

You knew you weren’t. You knew exactly how this night would go.

You’d had celebrations before. Anniversaries, Birthdays, Eddie absolutely acing his finals.

All of these occasions ending the same way. Your face in the downy pillows of Eddies bed, choking on whines as Eddie fucked deep into you.

You learned quickly as things in you relationship escalated, one of which, was: Eddie was a fucking perv.

He’d grab at your ass and grumble filthy words into your ear when he’d see you in the hallway.

He would almost drool every time you changed clothes in front of him. Eyes locked on your body as you tried to shy away.

He referred to your chest as “My ladies” often. You’d greet him at his van after work sometimes and he’d ask.

“How was it? How's my girls?”

Before his hands would cup your flesh right on the dark sidewalk outside of the brick book store.

He loved the v-neck cut of the plain black shirt you wore to work.

You always grumbled away from his advances in public. Bickering about how he needed to learn so decency.

It was in private where you’d let yourself melt at how keyed up you made him. He would grab and nip at you while you made out. You’d catch him looking down your baggy t-shirts. He’d angle himself to look up your skirt when you’d lay on his bed on the rare occasion you wore them. It felt good to be pretty sometimes.

He was downright gross . Prying eyes and dog-like behavior. But you loved it. It was endearing even.

You liked the way he’d blushed when you found a pair of your dirty panties stuffed in between his wall and the bed. How he would keep polaroids in his wallet for ‘when i jerk off in my car after i leave your place’.

He’d woken you up to wet, sucking kisses on your neck as you felt his hips grind against yours. You would whimper to let him know you were awake.

He could get hard from you changing in front of him. Infact, you’d seen it happen.

It was before the two of you had started having casual sex. You’d only gone as far as heavy petting while making out on the squeaky mattress in his trailer.

It was warm out, and the heat was seemingly stagnant in the trailer. Beads of sweat dribbled down your back making you shiver.

He’d noticed your discomfort, not long after he’d shed his t-shirt for a thinner fabric, cropped just below his belly button. You tried to be polite about it, not letting your gaze linger on the hair that traveled under the waist of his pants.

He’d casted you a teasing look with his big round eyes and it made your heat flushed cheek hotter.

“You distracted?” He asked from where he sat on the edge of the bed now. Gazing up and ushering you closer.

His hands were always grabby. He’d brush them over the curves of your waist. If you wore lower cut tops he wasn’t hesitant to grope and squeeze at them until you were melting under him.

You scoffed tearing away from how his eyes were tracing every curve of your damp skin.

“I have a few tank tops you can change into, might be cooler than your pretty little blouse.” He said, running his fingers over the buttons lining the front of your shirt.

“Yeah- sure.” You’d sputtered, nervous at the option to wear something of his. To look like his. It felt like he was staking a claim whenever he would offer his worn t-shirts, riddled with burn holes and smelling of his cigarettes and the sweet detergent Wayne washed it with.

You weren’t nervous for him to see your body. He’d said so many sugar sweet words before on the occasion he’d see your eyes linger too long on where the pudge of your stomach lay.

He’d just never seen it bare. Something you kept away from him with your own selfishness he’d say it was later on.

You made a hasty move removing your blouse, you revealed the cami you wore under.

Your back was turned to him, glancing over your shoulder he was awkwardly avoiding your body as he flicked his gaze between your eyes and the items scattered around

You could laugh at his nervousness, it was so cute how there was tinges of expectancy in his eyes.

You teased while removing your cami, stretching your arms over your head in a show as you fluidly let it drop beside you. You were now only in a pair of high waisted shorts.

The relief from the heat was almost immediate. You sighed, turning around to look back at eddie.

“God, i didn’t realize how god awful sweating in those blouses is” You laughed out, turning to see Eddie again.

He was flushed cheeked and he was now unabashed about letting his eyes roam your body. You smirked, cocking a hip at him. He blinked a few times.

“Did you say something?” He said dumbly. You scoffed just to tease, watching as he grinned and raised to his feet.

“oh come on pretty” He cooed, you felt your knees weaken as he approached. You were nervous under how dark his gaze looked.

“Don’t be mad at me bunny.” He said lightly. You huffed at him as your cheeks heated.

“Finish changing.” He said, it was demanding, you felt a jolt as you moved with a quickness.

Your nipples pebbles even in the heat. You couldn’t help letting your gaze flicker to Eddies who looked right back, his lip caught between teeth as you stood bare chested.

You pulled the black fabric of his shirt over your head. He moved away slightly, you saw what could be classified as disappointment flicker over his face.

If it wasn’t for your eyes wondering on their own you would have missed the bulge that pressed against the seam of his pants.

Your eyes widened, cheeks going all the more hot as he smirked at you from where he’d now stretched out on his mattress.

-

His tendencies worsened once the metaphorical rope of tension snapped and he was regularly pounding you into his mattress.

He’d pull you under the bleachers while you were supposed to be running the mile in your gym class. All because his eyes couldn’t leave how good you looked in your running shorts.

“My pretty baby, all mine.” He growled as he sunk two fingers into you.

“E-Eddie.” You whimpered as your eyes scanned to where chatters of your classmates were heard.

“Shhh, quiet now bunny. Don’t want us caught.” He pressed a kiss to your sweaty neck.

His fingers worked magic on you. Which is one of the only reasons you two were able to do these risky things. He knew how to play your body like the strings of his beloved guitar, with just as much skill and practice that it was a quick few moments of hiding pants into his shoulder before you were clenching around his fingers in release.

“You okay baby?” He’d always ask as you gasped through the after shocks, his fingers now gently moving in you to wring out any pleasure left.

“Mhm, so good.” You muttered back, slightly dazed and your clavicle began aching from where he’d sucked the skin between

gnawing teeth.

-

There were instances where he’d put his desperation to the side, where he’d kiss you slow and sweet, not initiating anymore than what he was giving.

Lucky for him though this made heat pool between your legs. You loved the feeling of him against you, just basking in the feeling of your mouth.

Your hips would buck against his and he would let out a low chuckle before pressing a kiss to your cheek and pulling away.

“Not right now my eager bunny.” He’d utter, just to see you shiver and your eyebrows pinch together with dissatisfaction.

“Eds- c’mon.” You begged tugging on his ratty old t-shirt, slightly damp with the heat that permeated the trailer even as fall was in full swing the heat never seemed to leave the confines of his room.

“baby, just let me love on you.” He groaned, sweet as ever.

You whined, but eagerly accepted his gentle kisses against your sternum. His big doe eyes crinkled with a smile.

This was newer than sex was. Moments where he was truly and utterly wrapped around your finger. Love spilling from ever brush of skin and every press of lips.

It was truly something profound to be loved by Eddie munson and there was nothing in the world you could give to replace the feeling.

He’d weaseled his way right into your very core, implanting himself with curls, and softness and words.

And under your body's desperate plea for release, you wallow in the loneliness of your room at night thinking about those moments. How tender, how gut wrenching, how it was now more than sex to the both of you.

Even with his antics he was probably the only person you’ve ever loved so fully. Every inch of you loved him.

You tried to consolidate the feelings of just wanting to climb inside his chest and lay there for ever. You pressed as close as possible as he strokes your hair. He was smiling softly against your lips. Pulling back every so often to whisper something stupid, or something that made your chest clench.

-

Of course the love sick sweetness also held that part that was human. You bickered with him often, as you always have, it came natural.

He’d always teases you at any given moment he could. And it was only amplified in front of his friends.

It wasn't uncommon for the group you knew of as his club to join together in Eddie's living room. Even after graduation they needed him.

It would be heart melting to watch his excitement but that gooey feeling was shoved away with how hot he was when he was into a game.

You sat on the couch behind him, him and the others sat in a circle in the floor, a large board set in the middle. You snickered before about the figurines that lay there, earning sharp arguments from Eddie.

It was an hour or so into the campaign when you felt slugish, your eyed glossy with tiredness.

Eddie was deep in thought as he sat cross legged while the others talked among themselves about what to do next.

Your chest fluttered with the need to feel closer, to feel his hands and hear him in your ear.

You pulled yourself off the couch and slid to the spot where he sat, he perked up at your presence smiling softly as he brushed your hair out of your face.

“Hello angel.” He cooed, soft enough that the boys couldn’t hear but just loud enough to be heard over their rambunctious shouts.

“M’ sleepy” You sighed, nuzzling a little into the palms of his hands.

“Do you wanna stay over ?” He asked, you knew just to be polite, you always stayed over when they had late campaigns.

You nodded, leaning forward to take his hand into yours just to play with the thick calloused fingers.

He chuckled lightly, his hands pulling away to grip your wrist and tug you in.

“Cmon, put your head in my lap and rest sweet pea. We should be done soon.” He gently ushered you to lean in, your head rested against the denim and it wasnt the most comfortable feeling but his fingers found solace in your hair and you felt your eyes droop.

-

Waking up was like the storm following a day of overcast.

You blinked your eyes open to the dark of Eddie's bedroom. Not sure when it was you two had made your way in there, probably due to the exhaustion that still seeped into your heavy lids.

You’d probably have slept nonstop until 11 tomorrow but sometimes woke you with a hazy start.

Not something though, it was someone.

With a groggy mind you felt Eddie.

His breath was hot against your neck, panting fast and hard. It was then you realized he was shifting with vigor against your backside. Hips erratically thrusted against yours as his big palms groped at your exposed chest..

You whined a little when he squeezed, his thumb ghosting your pebbled nipple, exposed to the air due to your shirt being hiked up under your chin.

“E-Eddie?” You whispered out and he stilled. He was panting even in his stiffness, hot and desperate in the silence still of his room.

“Sorry…” He uttered, voice graveled with either sleep or desperation you weren't quite sure which.

“Don’t be.” You smiled softly at his coyness.

You took a moment to contemplate falling back asleep and letting him figure it out but there was excitement trilling up inside you.

So with a bite of your lower lip your hips rolled back into his. He stifled a deep throaty noise into your hair, a hand coming to grip at your waist.

He was hot against you, skin burning and slightly tacky with sweat.

“C’mon Eds, don’t stop because of me.” You chided making his chuckle a little breathless.

“You just look so pretty. Can’t control myself having you- fuck-“ He was cut off again as you slid against him, his hard cock running perfectly across the crease of your ass.

“You’re gonna be the death of me baby-“ He sighed, now unabashedly rolling into you. His breathe picked up again, his hands squeezed and flexed against any exposed skin he could grab.

He didn’t wear his rings to bed and you sort of missed how the metal felt against you. Having felt them so many times in a casual setting it was a gentle reminder that it was him who was able to touch you.

You gasped when he sped up slightly faster.

“Such a dirty boy Eds.” You said, leaning back into his lip’s that began to trail over your neck.

“Can’t believe you’d grind on me while i’m asleep because you’re so impatient.” You continued and he whimpered at your words making a swell if fulfillment wash over you.

“You know i can’t control myself around you bunny.” He defended, breathy and high in his throat.

You felt his hips begin to stutter slightly in his thrusts, growing sloppy as you hummed out pleased noises just to spur him on.

“C-close baby-“ He sputtered. You whined at the thought of him cumming in his boxers from just rubbing himself against your tired body. You wondered how long he had been going before you woke up.

“Cum for me. Want it Eddie. Want you to feel good.” You rambled, reaching back lazily to tug at his hair, just the way he liked. It always rewarded you with a sweet open mouthed noise and this time was no different.

“Fuck- fuck- thats it. You’re so pretty, god i’m- i’m cumming.”

You loved how he sounded when he released, how his body would shiver with the waves of pleasure and how his cock would pulse and throb as he pumped out his sticky release.

Once his breathing slowed and you felt tendrils of sleep creep in again he spoke softly.

“Was that okay?” He asked, a mouse quiet whisper into your ear.

“Of course.” You replied, slurred against the pillow now.

“It wasn't- you dont feel weird about me- ya know- while you’re uh, asleep?” He continued.

You laughed lightly through your nose before making a ‘nuh uh’

“Was it hot at least?” He was more teasing now, doing that classic Eddie thing where he hid an embarrassing question behind a veil if humor.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He seemed a little more shocked than you'd expected. You only assumed he knew about the mess he was creating between your thighs.

“Obviously?” He repeated.

“Yeah, obviously. I’m like, fuck eddie, just-“ You groaned as you wanted to sleep but his persistence in holding pillow talk was nothing if not convincing.

You grabbed at his hand that was wrapped around you, guiding it under the thin fabric of your sleep shorts where you were bare.

If not for your drowsiness you’d grind against the fingers as they explored your slit.

“Oh- You got all hot and bothered from being used?”

It shook you to your core slightly.

Being used.

You trusted Eddie more than anyone. You trusted that he’d always do right by you but the concept of him giving into instincts. Taking what he wanted from your body was thrilling.

“You like that bunny?” He lowered his voice.

You were too embarrassed to reply, his fingers still lazily collected your arousal and there was no shot he didn't feel you twitch at the prospect.

“You want me to use you? Do what i want when i please?“

You nodded and he smiled against your skin.

“How about waking you up with my cock huh? You seemed to like me grinding on you.”

You whimpered softly, the only noise your tired body could produce at the gruff sound of his voice whispering his fantasies.

-

It was weeks before you were reminded of this conversation. The two of you had been quite busy, leaving little time for fooling around and you were a liar if you said it wasn't taking a toll on you.

But Eddie became a bit unhinged.

He was more clingy than ever, on the days you would come in at night, shoulders slouched with exhaustion, trying not to startle him. He’d smile so wide and tired as he tugged you into him, letting the heat of your skin melt into his.

He let his hands wonder your body as you dressed again the next morning, running late already from the impromptu make out session he had started.

Then a friday rolled around and it was perfect. You were working a short shift, and Eddie had the day off. You’d rented a movie from the Family Video for the two of you.

“Date night?” Steve asked while you shoved the vhs across the counter.

“Something like that.” You huffed.

“Whoah, what's got you huffy princess?” He chided, a smug look leaking onto his face.

You narrowed your eyes in annoyance before scanning the store of any customers before leaning in.

“Steve, i haven’t been properly fucked in like two weeks man. If i don’t get absolutely destroyed by my disgustingly skilled boyfriend tonight im coming to your house and smothering you.”

His eyes widened it fear, the bite of your voice was genuine, a sort of tone you rarely took.

“Geez, didn’t know Munson had it in him to hold out that long.” He muttered by in slight bemusement at your struggles.

“Oh he doesn’t. I’ve been late to work like 5 times in the past two weeks because he can’t keep his hands to himself .”

Steve laughed and slid you your change for the rental before you turned to leave.

“Wait!” He called and you wiped around to face him.

He dug in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a crumpled 20$ bill handing it towards you.

You furrowed your brow, slowly accepting his offer.

“Buy some nice dinner for you both. You’re looking anemic.”

You scoffed but his gesture was well appreciated. Knowing Steve came from money it wasnt rare for him to slide you some cash for no reason. A simple show of friendship and appreciation.

“Thanks, i’ll uh, let you know how it goes.” You said as you turned once again to push through the heavy doors of the store hearing him shout behind you.

“Please don’t actually!”

-

You did end up buying food as you made your way to the familiar trailer. Three styrofoam containers of chinese food from the place Eddie loved but rarely got due to the pricey cost.

When you arrived the sky was filling out with yellows and oranges as the sun sank bellow the horizon.

He greeted you with droopy eyes and a small smile. Pressing a kiss to your lips fleeting and fast before letting you in.

The place was actually cleaner than normal, the couch smelled of a fabric cleaner now rather than weed and spilled beer.

“You cleaned up.” You said appreciatively.

He looked bashful at the appraisal of his preparations.

“Yeah, been real anxious i guess and it helped me get my mind clear.” He said as he scratched at the back of his neck.

You raised a hand to pet his cheek.

“You look tired sweetheart.” You muttered and he slumped a little.

“Yeah, the uh, the van gave out this morning and i spent hours trying to fix it.”

You wished you were there to see it. His hands muddled in grease and grime, sweat dripping off him as his curls fell in his face.

You set your overnight bag in his room, quick to rid yourself of your work clothes in favor of a t-shirt that laud half folded in his dresser.

The trailer was cooler than it’s been for weeks in your experience. A autumn chill finally sweeping up the blaring endless indiana summer.

But as you thought on it the jeans you were weren’t comfortable, and you were so tired from work. You opted with hesitation to strip your jeans for a pair of Eddie's boxers.

They were pretty weird fitting, as he was a very different size from you, but the knowledge of staying the night dressed in his clothes made fondness swell.

“I have the movie ready my sweetness.” He said as he strolled into the room, smelling of his shower gel.

You pulled him in, kissing him softly again just to have a moment. Dressed in his clothes, in his bedroom, an air of ease lacquered thick.

“How was work?” He muttered and you let out a soft groan in response earning a sweet kiss to the bow of your lip.

“That bad?” He asked, rubbing over right where your back always aches after shifts.

“It was fine. Long. Just wanted to see you.” It was muffled towards the end as you buried your face in his shoulder, letting your burning tired eyes fall shut in a moment of relief.

“Lets get some food for you and we can nap?”

You nodded against him before pulling away. Following as you always did to where the open play screen of a movie played on the television.

-

You ate and talked and laughed. Even with the tired eyes the both of you had there was no such joy as these moments together.

He had hiked your shirt up a little while after you finished eating and with a full belly you laid your head on his lap.

Your muscles jellied as his fingers brushed featherlight over the sensitive skin of your stomach.

Around your belly button, tracing the curves of your hips that disappeared below the waistband.

“You fallin asleep on me?” He spoke, startling you.

“oh, yeah sorry.” You muttered trying to shake the exhaustion that seeped in your very bones.

“It’s okay baby, you can sleep. I can carry you to bed if it gets too late.” He carded a hand through your hair, you muttered a pained noise as his rings caught.

He chuckled a little. Soft as a morning dew muttering “Sorry sweet thing.” as he took them off his hand returning. Before you knew it his hands were magic and you drifted off.

-

Waking up was very different from falling asleep.

It wasn't the soft, gentle words and light touches anymore.

Eddie was grinding against your throbbing heat, drops of precum making the fabric sticky with his arousal.

You gasped, whimpering loud as the tip made itself a home pressed hot against your clit.

“Good morning bunny.” He said lowly behind you, voice wavering through pants and groans.

“Fuck- please-“ You whined trying to gather your thoughts.

His hands were gripping rough at your hips, lightly running blunt nails against your sensitive skin just to see you shudder.

“Mmm, you’re such a pretty baby.” He groaned, kissing at your shoulder.

“mm, Eddie- whats- oh fuck-“ He ground harder as you desperately tried to ask a question.

“What bunny? Can’t speak?”

You groaned in reply, still fuzzy minded from sleep and disoriented from the sudden waves of pleasure.

“nuh uh-“ You choked over the response, realizing there's no chance you could speak.

“You wanna know what got me all worked up?”

-

A short while after you had fallen asleep Eddie found himself tired. His back ached from sitting upright for so long.

The sky was now a pitch black outside and the room was lit by the TV and an amber light dangling from over the kitchen sink.

He moved carefully, not wanting to disturb your well deserved slumber.

He took a moment then to appreciate how beautiful you looked so at ease. Face smoothed out rather than the tired scrunch of stress he’d seen earlier.

He wished you’d marry him. So that you could both get a place of your own, he could sleep next to you every night and wake up to you cooking breakfast. He wanted to let you live a cushy life at home with your books and your movies while he made all the money from gigs with the band.

He wanted to come home from a show and have you on your knees by the front door, wide eyes desperate for him.

Let him take you over the countertops, bend you over the arm of some decorative armchair.

To make matters worse as he lifted you to the bedroom and eased you to the mattress your shirt was now up to the bottoms of your chest from the movement.

Eddie gulped slightly as he felt a familiar boiling between his thighs.

He admired how smooth your skin was, normally covered, now free to his gaze. He felt appreciative that you were comfortable enough to be so carefree of modesty.

He glanced nervously as he reached out running a hand over the expanse of your tummy. He was pleasantly surprised the touch barely made you stir.

He went with gentleness, eyes fluttered between where his hands mapped you, or where your eyes lay shut, lashes beautifully soft against cheeks.

It was moments that he was sure would be seared into his mind forever.

His cock stood hard between his legs now, throbbing to feel you around him.

He remembered the conversation you’d had before. The explicit desire in your eyes and your murmurs of consent that your body was his when he wanted. Tendrils of excitement wrapped around him.

He was startled slightly when you hummed lightly in your sleep and turned on your side, hiking up the leg on top as you snuggled further into his sheets.

He could see you far better now, everything, seductive in their placements. He thought about rubbing between your chest, wetting your skin with his precum as your sweet tongue stuck out to catch his tip with each thrust, pushing them further in attempts to make it feel better.

He let out a frustrated sigh before falling to the empty space behind you.

There were many moments of hesitation between him laying there gazing at you before wrapping his arm around you and tugging you back into him.

He whimpered when he felt your ass against his erection. Warm and inviting. He loved everything about you but it was anything but a secret his adoration for your ass.

In a fit of need he slipped his weeping cock from his boxers, slowly tracing it between your cheeks.

It wasn’t much, not nearly enough, but goosebumps lit up his skin with ferocity. He spread a bead of precum over the tip, letting it make contact with the fabric covering you and watching as a trail of the sticky fluid hung between his reddened tip and the boxers you wore.

“Oh fuck,” He choked out as quiet as he could muster as he carefully let his cock slide over your clothes pussy. He could feel the curves of your lips, the heat that radiated off your core.

It was dizzying as he turned to slow thrusts against you. He could feel himself catch on the button laying directly bellow your mons. Daringly grinding against it with a little more pressure than before.

He was rewarded with a whimper, his body stilling for a moment but your breathing only hitched as you continued your slumber.

He wanted to laugh at the disgusting implications of it all. You, unaware of him. Him, taking whatever he pleased from you with a gentless not to spoil his fun too soon.

There was that looming guilt that he should have asked before you fell asleep if this was still an option. He couldn’t deny that it hung heavy on his mind from the second you laid to rest in his lap.

But he couldn’t linger because he felt a dampness of your arousal begin to seep through the boxers.

He bit his lip at a smile threatening his face. His shallow thrusts continued as he moved even closer, letting his hands brush in a soft circle over your clothes clit.

The reaction was instant. You shifted lightly, mouth falling open in a pleasured sigh. He took this as a sign to persist.

He imagined what you’d look like cumming in your sleep. Waking up to hot waves rolling over you.

He continued his movements with little hesitancy now, gripping at your skin as your wetness caused the boxer shorts to cling to you.

He wondered how long before you woke up. Caught him, could he last long enough to wake you, take you while your mind was still fizzy with sleep.

The answer came soon enough as a whimper rose from you and your pretty eyes fluttered open. He grinned against your skin.

-

“You’re a tease even in your sleep.” He said as he finished recounting how you got him throbbing, how he felt high on his own supply by grinding against you.

“M’sorry-“ You slurred and he chuckled.

“It’s okay my little whore. You can’t help it can you? Can’t help what you do to Daddy huh sweetness?”

You whined for the upteenth time as the name fell in sultry waves from his lips.

It was a rare name for him to use. He prefered sir or master most of the time. But it was times like this where the title fit like a glove, he was going to be sweet and coddle you through this one. It sparked excitement the same way that it did when you would see his eyes flare with anger before he would take you roughly, spit into your open mouth, slap your skin until it turned a ruby red and then kiss it better.

He was perfect at both and you couldn’t dare change him.

“Your pussy is leaking all over me through my shorts darling.” He whispered, slowing his grinds to trace the wet fabric, rubbing slowly against your slit again.

“Mmm, all for you.” You replied, holding the urge to grind into him. His fingers trailed down the hem of the boxers running over your smooth inner thighs before letting his fingers trail up the leg and slip deliciously under it. He could feel the scorching heat of your arousal better as his fingers hovered over your cunt.

He wasted little time sinking two fingers into your tripping hole.

You squealed at the intrusion of his thick fingers after weeks of getting yourself off on the occasion you weren’t completely exhausted.

“Can’t believe you get this wet from me using you.” He chided, thrusting his fingers shallowly making your breath stutter as he purposely missed the spongy spot he knew just how to locate.

“N-need more.” You pleaded, his fingers began squelching in a crass way as he sped them up.

“Ya know, you’re really not in a place for demanding baby. But i need your little cunt as loose as possible before i fuck you.”

He always made you cum at least once before he would dare put his thick cock in you.

He was big, that wasn’t debatable. What was debatable was how much you wanted it to burn, wanted to feel the stretch of him after not having him for so long.

“Mm, no, I want your cock now!” You pleaded and he shushed you. You fully expected a scalding but maybe it was the looming tired feeling that clung to you both.

“Please daddy? Stretch me on it?”

He groaned before pulling his fingers out swiftly. You made noises of protest, hips seeking him again before they came in contact with your swollen clit.

“Fuck! Ah-“ You screamed as his speed was quick, the lubrication of your own slick making him move at a dizzying speed.

Your orgasm was approaching with an alarming speed, burning and hot as you felt your legs begin to tremble.

“Are you close bunny?” Eddie asked, he slowed a bit, focusing on speaking lowly in your ear, drawing out the teetering feeling.

“uh, yes, fuck, i’m so close for you.” You whined slurred and desperate.

“I’m the only one whos gotten you. to come this fast arent i? Nobody has ever made my pretty bunny feel this good before huh?”

It was a ploy, but with the static in your head you were eager to give him the satisfaction of hearing you praise his skillz

“No! No one Daddy! Just you. Only you make me feel so good.” Your arm curled back to grip at his thick tattooed bicep. Nails digging crescent shapes as you got closer and closer with each rough circle he drew into your clit.

“That’s it, come on bunny. Come for daddy. Gonna be so wet for my cock.”

A strangled whine ripped from your throat as you reached your peak. Legs trembled against the sheets as you were edging into overstimulation as his fingers worked you diligently through it.

“You okay?” He murmured, peppering kisses along your shoulders.

“Mm, yeah- sleepy daddy,” You yawned, body now lax from the force of an orgasm so soon after waking up.

“The faster i cum the quicker you can go to sleep baby.” He said lowly.

His cock was dripping, a mix of his precum and the slick that coated you.

“You can, fuck, you can fuck me now.” You muttered feeling him smile against you before taking nibbling bites at the tacky skin on your back. He played with you for a moment,just to watch you squirm, see your eye brows knit together as his cock brushed your swollen clit.

He slid in with no hesitation taking you by surprise.

You only let out high whines, knowing he loved hearing your noises.

“Fuck baby, you always sound so pretty when i slide in. So wet for me”

“For you, always for you. You make me so wet daddy-“ You muttered as you ground your hips back into him.

He growled at your moment of control, quick to stop your movements by flipping you to your stomach.

Your face buried into the pillow with a scream as he slid back in easily.

His pace was always brutal from this angle. Reaching deep and harsh as he hit from behind. His hands clutching the fat swells of your ass as his heavy balls slapped rhythmically against your thighs.

You felt him in your throat at this angle.

“Am i all in your guts baby? Do you feel how deep i am?” He grunted

You whimpered nodding harshly from where you muffled your cries.

“Mm, want you to come in me! Wanna feel you come against your womb! knock me up!”

You felt him throb inside of you as his pace quickened.

“Such a dirty bitch baby.” He hissed as he gripped your hair, shoving you further into the downy. The bed squealed as he slammed into you.

“Letting me fuck you before you even wake up baby. Wanna please me so bad. So desperate all the time that you’ll let me do whatever i want huh beautiful?”

You wanted to nod, but the grip on your hair had your scalp tingling with sharp pain.

He was burning hot inside you, even his hands felt like he was coated in flames. You felt the familiar tightenin in your gut.

“Are you getting close bunny?” He asked just as the feeling grew with a rapid pace.

“I can feel you clenching baby, i know your close.” He said leaning further into your ear, making easy work to shift to where each thrust slammed his head into that spot that made your body shake.

“Yeah! Oh im close daddy! Your cocks so good please!”

“Please? What are you begging for?”

He tugged on your hair making your neck arch. Just so he could hear your pleas more clearly.

“Please- Please can i come on your cock daddy!” You whined, the knots in your stomach were untethering in an uncontrollable speed.

“I’ll give you anything you want when you ask so pretty.” He replied, his hand snaking to come into contact with your clit again.

You could tell he was close too, his thrusts were sloppy, his grunts with less time in between. You clenched your hole in hopes to pull him along further so that you could both come at the same time.

“Fuck- Wanna come with me whore?”

You whined in confirmation further tightening yourself as you staved off the waves of an orgasm that crested your shores.

“Come on baby! Oh fuck im so close honey, you feel so tight. Sucking me in.” He rambled.

“Oh, fuck, cum baby, cum now, come on.” He urged, thrusting harder with the last bite of energy he had.

“OH FUCK DADDY! Fuck fuck fuck-“ You wailed as you felt all the tension snap, it was more intense than just his fingers.

“That’s it, thats my baby, good fucking baby-“ He praised as he grit his teeth.

His orgasm was intense, he pumped it all into you, deep and heavy and hot into your cunt. You siezed around him, the tell tale signs of you squirting around him were obvious.

“Oh fuck! Oh shit baby! So fucking good! Squirting for me, making a mess while i knock you up.”

Slowly both your bodies relaxed, he slipped out with a trail of cum leaking from your swollen hole.

“mm, gonna have to get a little plug for this pussy. Keep you plugged with my cum.” He cooed, running a finger to collect the slick liquid that oozed out of you.

“Mm, want you to pump me full and feel swollen up with it.” You hummed dazed and fucked out.

“We’ll see my love.” His hands retreated from your sensitive heat now glistening with the mix of both of your releases. You eyes had fluttered shut and you found shock in his wet fingers pressing at the seal of your lips.

“Clean my fingers off baby. Taste.” He whispered, pressing them past your lips. You whimpered around the intrusions before your eyes drooped and you felt yourself slipping to sleep, his fingers a comforting weight on your tongue. The remaining salty taste of both of you was like a gentle reminder of how much he loved you.

You fell asleep quickly, fucked to exhaustion after waking up to him. But you’d never been more content than wrapped in him and oozing his show of pleasure.

“Love you.” He’d slurred a little before you were dead to the world. Hot thralls of love seeped into you.

a/n: Helloooo! Ive been incredibly busy! This took a week longer than planned but shoutout my twitter loves for motivation. Pls do feel free to send reqs in my ask box!

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

I want to do more adaptations polls but unlike with television adaptions I haven't found a handy Wikipedia page, so I only know what I know and would appreciate help filling in this list.

Novel and Graphic Novel Adaptations

The Adventure Zone (ongoing)

Alice Isn't Dead

Bubble

Oz 9

Tabletop Roleplaying Game Adaptations

Old Gods of Appalachia

The Silt Verses

The Magnus Archives (forthcoming)

Welcome to Night Vale (announced for 2024, but we'll see)

Novel and Graphic Novel Tie-Ins

Welcome to Night Vale (3 novels)

The Bright Sessions (3 novels)

Limetown

Within the Wires — You Feel It Just Below the Ribs

SAYER — Welcome to Typhon

[murderandcoffee]

hi i'm josie and i post about podcasts

podcast(s) I am catching up on: hello from the hallowoods (paused), mabel (paused), the silt verses

podcasts I am up to date on: the penumbra podcast, malevolent, the magnus protocol (hi I'm the person who named gwen x alice "dyhard" lol), the white vault: goshawk, here lies withered lilies, red valley, derelict, tower 4, spire, the strange case of starship iris, world gone wrong

podcasts I've listened to fully: the magnus archives, the white vault, wolf 359, the bright sessions, the black tapes, archive 81, the deep vault, the six disappearances of ella mccray, deviser, the very worst thing that could possibly happen, limetown, time:bombs

other things I'm totally normal about: the untamed/mdzs, brandon sanderson's stormlight archive, maggie stiefvater's raven cycle, d&d, taz balance, the dishonored games, until dawn, the mechanisms, kpop, homestuck (sorry), perfume/fragrance, languages/linguistics, art, writing

you can find my ko-fi here, my art insta here, and my ao3 here

my original post/interaction tag is 'bs.txt', my art tag is 'bs.art', and my writing tag is 'my writing' (yeah I don't have a creative tag for that one lmao)

I'm a writer! my current projects are:

-The King's Daughter (fantasy/adventure novel trilogy)

-Auspicious (science-fiction novel duology)

-Radioactive (dystopian science-fiction novel)

-Pages Unturned (fantasy/horror podcast)

please ask me about them. I could talk about them for hours (and have before) <3

I'm 26 and my pronouns are they/he/ae (have fun w/ it idc)

t start date: 4.4.24

if we're mutuals (or if we interact a bunch) feel free to ask for my discord

anyway that's it that's my introduction love you bye

[thelaurenshippen]

A Neon Darkness e-book is only THREE DOLLARS for the whole of Pride month!!

while it's the second book in The Bright Sessions Trilogy, as a prequel novel, it's the first chronologically. that also means you don't need any familiarity with the podcast or other books at all!

so, if you're looking for a story about superpowers that kinda suck, found family, figuring yourself out, kidnapping, scamming people in los angeles, escaping toxic relationships, and just a little bit of murder, this is for you!

given that this is a pride month special, I want to bring special attention to the cast of characters this book features! we've got:

snarky sad boy protagonist whose sexuality can best be described as "god, please someone love me" and who kisses both boys and girls and yet has no game whatsoever

gay disaster with fire powers who keeps setting their kitchen on fire with his food experiments

bisexual girl who is cooler than you'll ever be; electricity comes from her hands, she rides a motorcycle, and she does not suffer fools

bartender lesbian who is kinder than anyone you've ever met and will always know when something is wrong with you and will tell you what you need to hear to fix it, even if its a hard truth

six-foot-a-million, broad shouldered teddy bear of a man who can look into your past and almost certainly has some kind of ally t-shirt that he puts on for every weho pride parade, where he holds drinks for his bisexual bff and her girlfriend as they dance

I loved writing this queer found family and I really hope you enjoy reading about them!!

Art by Victo Ngai

[whitexwolfxx310]

Huff And Puff

Huff & Puff

Pairing: Bucky x female reader // Bucky x y/n

Summary: After being at the Avengers Compound after a few weeks, you take a new approach to try and get Bucky to open up to you. But in doing so it seems to work more in his favor as you wind up opening to him instead. 

Warnings: Language, talk of overseas death, PTSD. (If triggered easily relating to these topics please be cautious when reading.) Y/N, No interactions with Minors.

Words: 2.7k

Previous Part

Masterlist

Over the next six weeks, you slowly start to bring in things to decorate your new office. A few lively green plants on the windowsill, the desk name plate that was customized and gifted by your new boss, a few novels on the shelves, a large art piece on the wall hanging horizontally above the couch that featured a landscape of the woods at dusk. But the most important of all was the picture of yourself and Luke the day he came back from deployment. While time apart from family wasn’t uncommon to us, it was still the best feeling to have them back home, safe and in your arms. You stare at the picture of you two smiling the biggest, cheesiest smiles; tracing your fingers across his face. As tears start to weld up in your eyes, you quickly look up at the bright lights in the ceiling, blinking uncontrollably fast to wish them away. Taking a deep, slow breath to collect yourself, you put the picture down on your desk to admire everyday and keep Luke in your heart and mind always.

Sessions with Sergeant Barnes have not been as productive as you had hoped. Most of the time the silence is deafening and time seems to creep by ever so slowly. The conversations have been mostly platonic, common everyday small talk in which you can tell he feels obligated to discuss. You look over at the time, seeing that it is 11:45; just a minute or two until James will arrive for his 12:00 appointment.

Right on que, Mr. Barnes quietly strides into the room. Normally he just sits on the couch and stares out the window into the woods, but this time he stopped in the middle of the room and froze. You give him a moment before acknowledging his presence.

“Good morning, James. How are you feeling today?” You say warmly, trying hard to not sound too bubbly. He seems like the type to highly dislike bubbly. He mumbles something under his breath, but you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“I’m sorry?” You ask cautiously as he is slowly looking around the room.

“It’s...different in here.” He says in a monotone voice as he looks at the things that you have added to your office.

“Oh, why yes! I believed it was time to make the office more personal, more me. Thanks for noticing!”

“Hmph.” Bucky huffs as he slumps down onto the couch, already looking out the window.

You clear your throat, trying to get his attention on you and not out the window. No surprise, it doesn’t work. “I was thinking of trying something new today.” This peaked his interest, but not much. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow as his answer. “We’ve spent the last six weeks talking about you, or at least attempting to” the corner of your mouth lifts into a slight smile. “Why don’t we try talking about something else. How about you ask me some questions.” Don’t sound to eager at the idea. Everything you have tried this far has been a complete failure. This is practically a last ditch effort to get Barnes to just cracking the door open into who he really is.

“You...want me to ask you questions? Like what?” he says, almost confused. It’s the first time we have taken the focus off of him and put the spotlight on someone else. He has the power here now.

“I don’t know.” You say as you lean back into your chair, placing a finger on your chin and tapping it lightly while thinking. “What would you ask someone when trying to initiate a conversation?”

“There usually isn’t much conversation, just punches being thrown.” He said sarcastically.

“Okay...how about ‘where did you grow up?’“

“Where did you grow up?” He says mockingly. It’s apparent that he thinks this is some stupid exercise.

You smile in response. “Well, a little bit of everywhere. My father was in the military. But I was born on Long Island and consider it my home.”

“Long Island?” He forces a laugh. “You mean, you’re a ‘wanna be’ city girl?”

You shake your head, smiling. “I mean it’s not Brooklyn but...” letting out a small laugh. “Like I said, a little bit of everywhere.”

“Is that how you met your boyfriend?” he said sarcastically with an eyebrow raised.

“What? I-...” You stare at him, returning the raised eyebrows in confusion. He doesn’t say anything in response, instead he just lifts a gloved finger and points at the picture of you and Luke. His hand lazily falls back down into his lap. James is looking at you, not even the picture. But it’s likely that he was taking in his surroundings to be aware, making note of changes, potential threats. A learned habit from his time working under Hydra.

“Oh...that’s um...That-” You’re instantly regretting suggesting opening the floor to him. But to your surprise you and Bucky make eye contact and this is the first time he seems genuinely interested in well, anything. “That’s my brother, Luke.” It comes out quieter than you expected. “He died in combat almost a year ago.” It’s the first time you have spoken about Lucas in months, almost as if saying it out loud will take you right back to the moment you found out about his death. Starting back at day one. Taking in a deep breath, you pick up the picture and look down at it, reliving the memory. “This was the day he came back from his first tour overseas...” You sigh, getting lost in the picture but only for a moment. You snap out of reliving the day and look up to meet an understanding gaze from James.

“S-Sorry.” You say shaking your head just a little too quickly and put the picture now facedown on the desk. “Ah-hem.” You clear your throat. “Anyway!” Pretend like that didn’t just happen.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I just...assumed.” He says softly. For the first time, you make eye contact and aren’t met with a tight jawline and a face that screams ‘I don’t want to be here.’

Just then, a small chime softly rings through out the room. Followed by FRIDAY’s voice. “Y/N, there is an important e-mail from Mr. Stark in your inbox. Please advise.”

Bucky leans back into the couch, completely unphased and back to looking like he is made stone. “Thanks, FRIDAY.” You reply, turning your attention toward your computer screen. Sure enough there is a message waiting for you to open.

“Y/N,

I think that enough time has passed that you can take your sessions to the next level with Barnes. Here at the compound we do room checks. We are passing this responsibility onto you since you have the most communication with him.

Best,

Tony Stark”

I have the most communication with him? A small chuckle escapes from your mouth. James looks over to see what the giggle could possibly be about. He rolls his eyes, tilting his head back and running both black leathered  hands through his hair.

“Let me guess... Word got out that I’ve been avoiding room checks, right?” Bucky did not even try to refrain at how annoyed he was.

I have to check his room? For what?

“I uh...” Thoughts were flying around in your brain but they wouldn’t form into words. While trying to formulate any kind of response, Bucky slaps down his hands on his thighs as he stands up.

“Well, let’s get this over with then!” In three long strides he was out in the hallway. You sat there for a moment, still speechless. Looking around waiting for someone to pop out and say it was a prank. Annnnnd no one’s saying this is a prank. Okay then!

Trying to hurry, you push away from your desk and dash to the door as quickly as you can, which isn’t fast considering the shoes you decided to wear today of all days. God damn heels! I wish I could just fucking kick them off and go barefoot. UGH!

Bucky is still a decent amount ahead of you and you start to panic because you have no idea where his room actually is. He could just dip off into another room in the Compound and you would have truly no idea where he had gone. Almost two months into this job and you’re still managing to get lost. He must of heard the quick, loud clacking of the heels in the hallway because he decided to actually slow down. As you approached, you start trying to compose yourself and not think of how much swelling is going on in these shoes.

He presses a small button, doors opening to an elevator. Without missing a beat he walks in, presses in the number ‘6′ and steps back into the corner. You follow his lead, getting into the elevator and going to the opposite corner.

This is the closest we have ever gotten to each other.

You distract yourself by shifting your weight from one foot to the other, already feeling the burning start of blisters. Damn.

Reality calls to your attention in the form of a loud ‘Ding’ from the elevator as the doors opened. You wait, thinking James is going to come barreling out of the elevator and almost run you over. But to your surprise, he’s still waiting in the corner. After a moment he gestures his hand moving outward “After you.” He says, politely. Huh...

“Thanks” the words almost sound too sweet coming from you. Walking out of the elevator and into a bright, well lit, white hallway. Bucky is next to you and slowly starts walking, trying to leisurely walk beside you instead of so far ahead this time. A small side smile lifts your cheek. He stops just a few doors down.

“Well, here we are. Friday?” For once, he doesn’t seem totally miserable. Just a little.  

“Scanning. James Buchanan Barnes, access granted. Y/N (full) access also granted.”

Bucky fakes a big, tight lipped smile as he turns to face the closest camera and gives it a sarcastic 2 finger salute. “Thanks, Tony!”

“Anytime, pal!” The camera responds in Tony’s voice.

He opens the door and you follow in behind him. The first thing that you notice is that it looks like a hotel room, in the sense that it is completely untouched or personalized in any sort of way. It looks....Sterile in here.

“You have a nice place here, Bu-...Oh! Hello!” Your attention is brought down the floor after feeling something weaving in and out of your legs. “You have a cat?!” There was no more containing the excitement. You kneel down just inside of the doorway to be met with a beautiful, fluffy white cat nudging into your face. Immediately, you’re petting her all over. “And what’s your name?” You ask, completely thrilled. I wasn’t expecting this. Of all people to have a pet, Bucky?

“Yeah...her name is Alpine. She’s my emotional support whatever so I don’t go back to killing people.” You shoot him a narrow eyed look from the floor. He puts hands up in a surrendering gesture “Relax...I’m kidding.” There is the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

“Well, Alpine. You just made my day!” Running your hand down her back and tail one last time before standing back up. Bucky looks at Alpine and then at you. “She doesn’t normally come up to new people right away, she takes her time warming up.”

“Huh...sounds like someone else I know.” You meet Bucky’s gaze, smirking. Finally! My chance to be sarcastic right back.

“I have no idea to whom you’re referring.” He returns the smirk. “Anyway, have a look around. I already hid all of the weapons, drugs, and girls!” Bucky laughs as he makes his way into the kitchen leaving you to look around on your own. Your inner teenage girl is screaming inside dying to snoop around this place. Stop. Act professional and whatever you do, do NOT embarrass yourself. 

Walking through the main corridor into the living space, your truly astounded that there is still nothing that claims this space as ‘Bucky’s’. That’s...really sad. The sofa looks brand new aside from the occasional stray white cat hairs along the back. No art, no pictures, no music, no movies, no medals, and no mirrors. No mirrors? Continuing into the open doored bedroom you notice, yet again, that everything looks completely untouched. Has he ever even slept in this bed? All that occupies the room is an untouched king sized bed and one dresser. On top of his dresser seems to be a display stand. “Oooo! What’s this for?” You shout so that he is able to hear you back in the kitchen.

“No need to yell.” Bucky says softly, now just standing in the bedroom doorway. After jumping in fright you grab your chest reminding yourself to breathe. He laughs, shaking his head slightly. “Y/N, you’re going to have to get yourself some hearing aides or a cow bell I can wear.” He continues to laugh.

“Real funny coming from the man that’s over a hundred years old!” Bucky smiles, his teeth actually showing. Wow. You would never guess he even had teeth or how white they were with how stern he looks all the time. 

“This fine piece...” He trails off walking toward the dresser “Is what I use to hold this-” James holds up his left hand, showing the front and back of his glove as there is a slight metallic whooshing sound. His arm...It intrigues you for the plain fact that you have never seen it. Not that you would ask, it’s personal. It is only human to be curious after all. 

“I see.” Turning back around to head out of the bedroom, something in the corner catches your eye. A comforter and a pillow. He sleeps on the floor. It isn’t uncommon for soldiers to return home from war with PTSD that can take the form of resorting back to ways they were used to out in the field. You make sure it was a quick glance and didn’t hesitate at the sight in front of Bucky. 

Walking back out into the living room, there’s a tv and a remote that looks like it has never been touched. “So James...what do you do for fun?” Bucky looks extremely confused. “You know, any music or movies that you’re into?” 

“Well....kinda. Hold on a sec.” He darts into his room and comes back out with a book; The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. 

“I love this book!” You exclaim as you take a few steps closer to look at the novel. “God this brings back memories. My father used to read it to my brother and I...” Your voice trails off, your heart feeling warm at the thought of your childhood and of Luke. Bucky looks down at the book and then holds it out.

“How about you borrow it?” He offers.

“I couldn’t...” You rebuttal. 

“Really...” Bucky gently takes your hand and puts the book in it. “Please. I’ve only read it about a hundred times.” He says nonchalantly.

For a man with such a cold exterior you can’t help but notice the warmth of his right hand as he gave you the book and then pulled away. A beaming smile shines on your face. “Thank you, Bucky.” Here you go starting to get all emotional again. Forcing away the watery eyes, you cling to the book with both arms across your chest. “So...” Smooth. Do not go down this rabbit hole. Do not let this man see you vulnerable. “I’m assuming that means your a fan of the Lord of the Rings as well?” 

Bucky raises his hand to nervously scratch the back of his head. “To be honest, I’ve never tried.” The shock on your face must have made him feel some type of way because he started backpedaling. “I just haven’t gotten around to it yet, I guess.” 

“That’s it.” You say confidently. “I am going to put together a list of things for you to read, watch, and listen to. Stuff that will feel like home and new things to help you acclimate to current times.” Bucky’s shoulders seem to relax just a tiny bit. “Do you trust me?” You say encouragingly. 

“Yes. Yes I do.” He says with a side smile.  

Next Part

[sorenblr]

Now that you've completed the SMT V stream, I (and I'm sure some other folks, too) would love to hear what you think of it compared with the other main Megaten games you've played on stream. I think you've done SMT 1, SMT IV and SMT IV:A so far. Include Persona 1 too if you'd like.

And that dreadful Tokyo Mirage Sessions: pound sign Fire Emblem, too

SMTV is hard for me to discuss because there's very little about it that compels me to deeper thought. It really, genuinely bores me to think about, and anything I do have to say about it only evinces an incredibly cynical read of the series. I'll just put whatever I have left to say here, so that I don't feel the need to revisit.

It's just, you know, this bloodless cultivation of recycled semiotics from Nocturne. We ragged on IV for being overly invested in derivation and homage, but it looks almost daring coming off of V. The only really original idea that it brings to the table, the notion of Nahobino as the 'true' form of these divided and depreciated myth images, is almost offensive in the way it reframes designs that at least try to approximate real cultural attitudes towards religion as lesser, enervated reflections of yet more Tokusatsu tripe. Apart from that, it's a very inert piece of storytelling. I feel like a joke is being played on me whenever the game presumes an emotional investment in characters like Tao or Yuzuru.

I generally think highly of all the little design wrinkles that were implemented under Komori's stewardship, and that owe to his experience directing the more balance-intensive affairs of Etrian Odyssey. The new utility of consumables, dampeners as a limited means of addressing weakness in party structure, the need to attend to enemy and player Magatsuhi gauges etc. All necessary supplements to a battle system that was beginning to wear thin by 2016. Only my opinion of everything that enfolds it, the exploration, was diminished on this second playthrough. The layouts are still compelling, with a novel emphasis on managing layers of verticality, but they're populated with so much idiot open-world cruft. Vending machines, chests, glory crystals, health orbs, Miman. An overabundance of piddling incentive to keep you in a state of compulsion, and which I believe contributes to the exhaustion that many players feel come Taito. I still like the Miman, but they essentially exist in a continuum with the fucking feather collectables in Assassin's Creed.

(All the colored orbs littered around the sands are the perfect wedge to that design sensibility. They're almost totally inconsequential and only worth pursuing for the feeling of having absorbed more bright bobbles into yourself. They whisper to your lizard brain so that you don't feel too unstimulated navigating the space, which is never deigned to be worth the doing for its own sake. I'm out here picking up orbs and I can't even use them to extend the duration of Spartan Rage. Videogames are fucking stupid.)

It also made me more conscious of the ways the game fails to leverage art direction against what were probably non-ideal production conditions. It's never easy to forget that you're in a world of economically distributed UE4 assets, with no less than four brilliant hues of sparkling sand and ruined structures that have largely forfeited the Tokyoite specificity of previous games in favor of the same vending machines and multi-floor apartments and office buildings repeated ad nauseam. Daat never feels more like a hostile environment than a self-conscious playground. The concept art backdrops and rudimentary 3D textures of IV/IVA, and the claustrophobic interiors of I- all more lively by far. Pretty good skyboxes, though. No complaints there.

I think the series has moved into the sort of tired self-pastiche that every franchise turns to after decades of iteration. Time and chance happened, and now it's Angus Young crawling out of his mansion and into his boy-clothes to duckwalk across the stage while his grapefruit-sized prostate wages war against him from within.

If I were to rank just the main series from what we've streamed thus far, it would be something like I > IV > V > IVA. The only sense in which TMS has it at a disadvantage is that it emulates more cleanly. I'm glad that we're done with the latter half of the series and can finally move on, but I'll never forget that big huge enormous ass...

[e-rrrrin]

GROUP PROJECT |CHIGIRI HYOMA

Initially, you two were merely classmates and teammates with only soccer in common. Chigiri being the main star of your high school's team, it was unexpected to say the least when the two of you became friends, especially since you were just an average teammate.

However, as the days went by during your time together, you began to notice a different side of him - a side that wasn't solely focused on soccer. You didn't even think he'd spare a single glance in your direction, let alone bond with you over novels surprisingly out of all things.

It all started with small gestures, like him offering to share his snacks during breaks or staying late after practice to chat with you about anything and everything. You found yourself enjoying these moments, and before you knew it, you were spending more time together outside of soccer practice.

Chigiri couldn't deny the growing warmth in his heart whenever he was around you.He found himself stealing glances, admiring your dedication, your skills, and the way you brought a unique energy to the team.

At first, he dismissed these feelings, attributing them to the closeness of friendship. But deep down, he knew there was more to it.

As time went on, you and Chigiri became closer. You celebrated victories together, consoled each other in defeat. The simple act of being near you filled Chigiri with a sense of happiness and contentment that he couldn't ignore.

Chigiri started to express his feelings in (not so) subtle ways, showering you with compliments, offering to walk you home, and making an effort to spend more time with you outside of soccer practice.

These small gestures show the affection he held for you, even though he hadn't yet found the courage to put his feelings into words. It was quite obvious to everyone at this point that the redhead likes you, although you are very oblivious to the fact, dismissing his gesture as being close friends.

One evening, as you and Chigiri sat side by side, poring over their textbooks, he realized something that sent a shiver down his spine. He was falling for you, and he couldn't stop it.

Chigiri's heart raced as he imagined a future where he could be more than just friends with you. But the fear of ruining their friendship held him back. What if you didn't feel the same way? What if confessing his feelings made things awkward between them?

One day, after a particularly productive study session, Chigiri was walking you home. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the streets. They chatted about their dreams, ambitions, and the things that made them smile.

As they reached your doorstep, you turned to Chigiri with a bright smile. "Thanks for walking me home, Chigiri. You're such a great friend.”

Those words pierced Chigiri's heart like a dagger. ‘a friend,' he thought, feeling a pang of disappointment.

For now, Chigiri kept his feelings locked away, buried beneath layers of friendship. He didn't want to risk losing you, even though his heart yearned to express the love he was beginning to feel.

One sunny afternoon, you and Chigiri found themselves paired up for a group project in one of their classes. They decided to work on it together at Chigiri's house since it was quieter there, away from the distractions of the school library and bustling cafes.

You both settled in his room, books and notes scattered on the desk. As the hours ticked away, you found yourself growing tired from the day's activities and the project's demands. The warmth of Chigiri's room and the rhythmic tapping of his keyboard gradually lulled you into slumber.

Chigiri glanced over at you, his heart softening as he watched you sleep. In this quiet moment, he allowed himself to acknowledge the depth of his feelings for you. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your chest, and he couldn't help but smile.

Minutes turned into an hour, and Chigiri couldn't help but be distracted by the sight of you sleeping so peacefully in his room. The soft rise and fall of their chest, the gentle curve of their lips in a contented smile—it was all too much for Chigiri's racing heart.

As your soft snores filled the room, Chigiri couldn't contain his feelings any longer. He carefully set aside their project and moved closer to you, his heart pounding in his chest. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from their face, his fingers lingering on their cheek.

He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper as he murmured, "I love you," the words barely audible in the stillness of the room. He knew you couldn't hear him in your slumber, but he needed to say it, even if it remained unspoken.

Chigiri continued to work on the project quietly, occasionally stealing glances at you. You looked so serene in their sleep, their gentle breathing the only other sound in the room. Chigiri couldn't help but smile as he watched them.

As he worked on the project, Chigiri's thoughts drifted to you. He couldn't deny his feelings any longer; he was deeply in love with them. Their friendship had become the most precious thing in his life, and he longed for more, but he was afraid of risking what they already had.

For now, he made a silent promise to himself—to cherish each shared moment, to be there for you as a friend, and to wait patiently for the day when he could finally tell you those three words in his heart.

[nanowrimo]

Pro Tips from a NaNo Coach: Writing with Chronic Injuries

NaNoWriMo can seem like a daunting task sometimes, for NaNo newbies and veterans alike. Fortunately, our NaNo Coaches are here to help guide you through November! Today, author Mimi Matthews is here to share her advice on how to set yourself up for noveling success:

Dear Fellow Writers,

In an ideal world, we’d all be starting our manuscripts this November, bright-eyed and clear-headed, limited by nothing but time and the scope of our imaginations. In reality, many of us—myself included—are dealing with physical or mental health issues that impact our productivity. That doesn’t mean we can’t write a novel in a month. It just means we have to prepare a little differently. 

I’ve written all of my books while struggling with pain from a cervical spine injury. There’s no secret to it, only a little self-knowledge. Pain is a part of my life I have to manage along with all the rest of my responsibilities. It can be discouraging at times, but it’s never once prevented me from completing a manuscript. With that in mind, here are a few of my personal strategies for starting (and finishing!) a novel.

1. Be prepared.

Before you begin your manuscript, arm yourself with all the implements you’ll need to support pain-free writing. For me, this means a huge collection of neck pillows, ice packs, and a never-ending supply of Aleve. The more supportive I can be of my neck injury, the better success I have in my work.

2. Be flexible. 

Get rid of your preconceived ideas about when and where you should write. Instead, write when you can and where you can, in whatever way best supports your health. A story is no less compelling because you wrote it while propped up in bed at 2am instead of sitting at your desk at eight in the morning.

3. Listen to your body. 

If writing is hurting you, then stop for a while. Don’t give in to the panic about failing to meet your writing goals. Yes, it’s scary to fall behind, but there’s really no such thing as powering through to reach a daily word count when you’re in pain. You might be able to do it once or twice, but the work always suffers.

4. Write less to write more. 

It seems nonsensical, I know, but I’ve found that stopping work for the day when my neck starts to ache is the best way to ensure that I write more later. If I continue working while in pain, it sometimes takes me days or even weeks to recover from the ensuing flareup. Conversely, if I stop for the day, I almost always write double or triple the words at my next writing session.  

5. X marks the spot. 

I write historical novels, which necessitates a great deal of research. That can mean a lot of stops and starts as I’m writing. I sometimes lose the rhythm of the scene. Even worse, the stress of changing course so often can trigger my pain. To combat this, I use XX to mark things I need to research later. I also use XX in place of character names, locations, or clothing descriptions I haven’t thought up yet. Doing this allows me to get the bones of the story arranged much faster, without those frustrating (and pain triggering) stops and starts. 

There’s no one size fits all way to finish a manuscript, especially if you’re struggling with challenges to your physical and mental health. Be mindful of your needs. Be flexible in your habits. And, above all, be kind to yourself. Writing a novel is a huge undertaking at the best of times. A little preparation—and a generous supply of grace and patience with yourself—will make the experience a lot less painful.

xx Mimi Matthews

USA Today bestselling author Mimi Matthews writes both historical nonfiction and award-winning proper Victorian romances. Her novels have received starred reviews in Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, Booklist, Kirkus, and Shelf Awareness, and her articles have been featured on the Victorian Web, the Journal of Victorian Culture, and in syndication at BUST Magazine. In her other life, Mimi is an attorney. She resides in California with her family, which includes a retired Andalusian dressage horse, a Sheltie, and two Siamese cats.