#but i also understand why some shops are only 18+ i would LOVE to work in a shop that only allows adults inside

[flamejob]

I can't believe that the shop i used to work at thought that me saying "i don't think small kids should be playing in a tattoo shop and running around barefoot in one either" was a rude statement. the ariel dejesus shit got me thinking

[thebunnybabyblog]

"Tear you apart" 18+ Snape x reader

This is just pure smut so be warned! No one under the age of 18 should venture any further! Run away now you are not welcomed to read this please go play roblox or something :)

Age is not told in this but reader is 18+, Snape is whatever age your headcanon prefers. This is a female oriented one shot so specific terms will be said here that apply to that! Also don't even say a thing about her nickname this is soooo not a shamless insert for myself, def not 👀

the song "tear you apart" by she wants revenge is what inspired me to write this. please listen bc god it makes my head go brrrrrrrrr when i listen to it lol with that please enjoy and tell me what you thought! lots of love! 💕

Potions had always been your best subject. There was just something about the skill and craftsmanship that made you feel so compelled to learn as much as you could. It was like art and science all in one. The precision and dedication that it took to make something with so much value to the wizarding world was vastly impressive to you, but what really sealed the deal was the man that had taught you all that you knew.

Severus Snape was a god to you. The poised mysterious genius who seemed to be able to look death right in his eyes and laugh in annoyance. The way he just glided around school with so much power and command sent shivers down your spine. Always wanting to be in his good graces and never a means of annoyance like most students. You wouldn’t call yourself a know it all teacher's pet who would tattle acting as the school yard spy but truly as an admirer and helping hand.

You made it clear that you admired, appreciated and respected him and his immense wealth of knowledge. It’s not like you didn’t respect all of your professor's knowledge because you really did but he was just different? Part of it was how bad you felt from the vast amount of disrespect he received. Of course you understood that kids are difficult to look past tone and attitude but if you did your work and listened when he spoke and spoke only kind words to him, he was kind to you.

Over the 7 years at Hogwarts you grew a pretty decent relationship with him. Of course it wasn’t like you skipped down the hall hand-in-hand but he had gained a level of trust and mutual respect for you. To the point he had offered you to be an assistant of sorts to him, nothing major but since you had expressed after graduation you wanted to work at being a professional potioneer and owning your own shop one day, he let you come two to three days a week and help him with different tasks. It would always be a surprise that day on what you were doing. It could be organizing and taking stock of the store room, observing and taking notes of class projects of lower grades that were brewing (as some potions could take days or weeks to brew) or even grading first to third year assignments. All the while you'd be free to ask questions and just chat really.

You had really cherished these meetings but your social group really never understood why you were even wanting to be there. For them it seemed like a punishment.

“You had to organize the storeroom?!? What did you do wrong to have to do that??” They’d exclaim in shock and then be in total disbelief when you said,

“It wasn't a punishment, it was actually quite fun! He showed me some rare ingredients that you can only get on a full moon on the tallest mountain in the Himalayas every 6 1/2 years!”

None of it ever seemed like a chore; it was an honor. This man, with such great skill, had taken you even the tiniest bit under his wing. I guess people just couldn’t understand how such a bright and bubbly person would want to spend time in a dark gloomy dungeon with the dungeon bat himself. But you knew he was just misunderstood and it didn’t help that you found him to be the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on.

To you he was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. His tall looming body, dark midnight eyes that looked straight to your core, chiseled features that seemed to be carved out of the most precious white marble. He was more than just looks, he was powerful, knowledgeable and what people didn’t seem to see but he was quite funny and gentle. The way he treated his work as if he was Michelangelo diligently and painstakingly painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling upside down on his back. He was just brilliant to be around and absorbing even a speck of him was a gift.

You couldn’t lie to yourself though, you were down bad. The type of bad that made you find yourself absentmindedly drifting off to space only to come back down to earth and see you had doodled all over your notes with little drawings of hearts with SS in them and sketches of his striking features or kicking your feet and going red when he pops into your mind while in class because he said something that just rolled off his tongue in just the right way that made you fantasize scenarios in your head.

A crush was truly an understatement at this point. If he asked you to be his pet you would be at his feet curled up in an instant. Never making it too apparent though as to never show him any type of actions that would threaten your ability to continue this precious opportunity to learn and just be around him, or so you thought.

Friday was your easy day and your most favorite day of the week. You only had one class and that was of course advanced potions at the end of the day and a day where you always stayed after to help out. Today was especially good because it was a day when everything just went well. Snape had shown the class how to brew amortentia, the most powerful love potion. Not only was it an exciting lecture and potion to brew but it got your head to brew all sorts of things as well.

“Gods I wish I could give him a drink of mine! I’d do anything for him to feel even a slight bit like me, the way I do for him!” You thought into the void of your mind. You couldn’t help to doodle while you waited for the last few minutes of the class to count down, not like you were leaving but just waiting for your afternoon Friday treat to roll around. Your little delusions were helped by the fact he had actually praised your work when he was making his way around the classroom before the class was over.

“Very good work Miss [last name], excellent pearl color and the smell is just right. You will make a fine potion master one day” he said in a smooth silky voice. You were lost in every word that rolled off his sharp tongue. It felt as if you had drank this entire cauldron, gulping it down like a man who was stranded in the desert who finally found water.

“Thank you sir!” You squeaked out, kicking your feet enthusiastically underneath your table. If only people could understand how good his praises felt, the chokehold they held on her heart.

“Alright class it seems our time is up, most of you really need to pay more attention when I’m up here teaching… this is a powerful potion that needs to be respected and I saw many glaring mistakes that certainly should have been avoided… I will expect a report on my desk about the history of amortentia by Monday morning sharp. If I didn’t tear your potion to shreds in my walkthrough you are excluded.” The class filled with annoyed groans and frustrated sighs and a few looks were shot your way since they knew the “dungeon bunny” (your unofficial nickname your friend would poke fun at you with) was exempted once again. It wasn’t your fault you enjoyed potions, that's what Hogwarts was for, to find your passions and excel and it did help when you were in love.

The class cleaned up their areas and one-by-one filed out of the room looking a bit defeated by the sudden addition of weekend homework but you stayed behind ready for whatever task he was willing to give you today.

“Great lecture as always professor!” You said looking up to him with a soft smile.

“Thank you Miss. [last name], it’s a shame not everyone is as devoted to potions as you and I.” he replied back to you in a smooth tone. For him to put you and him into the same category made your heart thump in your chest. His praises made your hair stand on end as if caught in an electrical storm. A blush was surely visible on your face when your brain was able to comprehend his kind words.

“Oh! I am nothing compared to your dedication, you are a god compared to me!” You spouted back not even thinking, making you blush harder.

“Oh. My. Gods. I did not just say that, what a loser, I must seem like such a fangirl. He's your professor, not an idol.” You barked in your head, now thoroughly embarrassed. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts when you heard a soft chuckle escape from his throat.

“I guess I should take my place up in the heavens then” he said as he made his way back around to his desk “today if you can, I would appreciate a walk through of the storeroom and make a list of anything that is running low. Will that be something you can help take off my plate today?” He asked in a way that sounded like silk.

“Of course professor you don’t even need to ask!” Gods you were pathetic and you knew it but you didn’t care an ounce. It felt so good to be of service, to do anything he asked of you. You were his devoted little bunny and hopped when he said hop. You’d never admit it to your friends but you loved being called his dungeon bunny because gods it really was so fitting for how you felt. And if it meant spending ages looking through every tiny vial in that room you would do it on your hands and knees to be around him.

Making your way into the room you began to look through the endless rows of ingredients. You knew this was going to take a long time but it was worth it. You had been working for only about 15 minutes when you felt a cold rush of air against your back behind you, not thinking much of it, only that it was just a draft, you didn’t even turn to look. It wasn’t until you heard the door click shut behind you locking you in the small room.

“Umm professor, did you close the door?” You said still bent over looking at vials in the cabinet below you before turning around.

“Yes” he replied

You jumped at the sound of him right behind you. He glides and somehow makes no noise when he walks, some people think he casts a charm on his shoes to keep them silent. You spin around and are now in very close proximity to him. Your breath is stuck in your throat and you push yourself up against the shelf. The vials behind you raddle as your back hits the wood. You look up to his looming figure and he looks down at you with his sparkling black eyes and his equally raven black hair falling around his face.

“I’m quite sorry, did I frighten you?” He says with a sly smile.

“Oh umm no hehe of course not.” You say with your eyes closed with an embarrassed smile slapped across your face.

“Oh good I would be awfully sad to scare off my little dungeon bunny.” His words slapped you across your face.

You look up to him in shock, eyes wide and heart pounding out of your chest, “d… dungeon bunny?!? How does he know about the nickname my friends call me?” You think in a panic.

“You scream it quite loud in your head all the time. It’s not hard to miss.” He replies to your thought. As if your eyes weren’t wide enough they were bigger now, you now understood he had the ability to use legilimency. The thought of every embarrassing little thing you have thought about him over the last 7 years bounced around in your mind. You were in utter shambles over how embarrassing you had been without your knowledge. Especially since you never were shy to let your daydreams run amok in the dirtiest ways you could think of.

“You enjoy being my bouncing little bunny don’t you?” He questioned as if he was a predator circling and taunting its prey.

“I….. I umm… I-“ was all that you were able to stutter out. A deep chuckle rumbled up through his chest and you felt his cool breath on your face as he loomed over your shanking frame. You couldn’t help to smell the smooth smell of spearmint and honey on his breath sending your head spinning.

“Does cat have your tongue, little bunny? Usually you have so much to say up here.” He said as he tapped a finger melodically against your temple. You felt your knees wobbling under you and you couldn’t help to just look up at him like a deer caught in headlights as you white knuckled the counter behind you.

“You're usually such a good girl and speak when spoken to”, grabbing your chin and squeezing your cheeks with his long slender fingers. “Now I will only repeat myself once more,” his tone stern and filled with authority. “I said you enjoy being my little. Bouncing. Bunny. Don’t you y/n?”

“Y… yes” you shyly mustered out.

“Yes what?” He commanded as he squeezed harder

“Yes sir!” You practically shouted, trembling in his grasp.

“See that wasn’t hard was it?” Leaning down to be eye level with you all the while still holding on to you tight.

“N… no sir.” You couldn’t help but feel like putty in his grasp. You wanted to be devoured, like you said before, if he said hop you would hop and you meant it.

“You know even if I couldn’t hear your detailed perversions every time you laid eyes on me you are quite obvious and oblivious to your surroundings.” He released your face and leaned in close to your ear. His hair tickled your skin as it cascaded over your cheek.

“Your little love doodles are very cute, you think I don’t notice them as I walk around the room? You’re lucky I don’t punish you for being off task so frequently but you are always such a good girl I can’t bring myself to punish you.”

You were overheating with your skin flushed pink, you felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of your forehead.

“Hmmm It is getting pretty hot in here, why don’t you take off your coat?” He hummed, pulling back from your ear. His fingers found their way under your lapels and slid your jacket off your shoulders onto the floor.

“T..thank you.” Not even sure why you were thanking him but it felt so good too.

“Such a polite girl, seems like someone needs a treat.” Taking your chin back into his grasp, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss onto your lips. Still in utter shock and disbelief from what was happening you just looked at him wide eyed but in an instant you shut them and sunk your weight into his hand. You grabbed onto the side of his robe for support and let out a moan that shocked you both. You could feel him smile against you and his left hand sneak to your waist and pulled you close into him.

Your eyes shot open when you felt him hard against your stomach taken aback by just how large he felt under all of those dark clothes. “Gods his cock is huge!” You couldn’t help but scream in pure lust loud in your head, immediately looking up to him in terror as you might as well have just said that out loud. Somehow his eyes grew darker than they naturally were and you knew it was game over. He was about to devour you whole.

You looked away fast in utter embarrassment but his hand snaked its way through your hair and pulled your face back to his and whispered once more into your ear, “I want to fucking tear you apart.” He said, so sharp it pierced through your body like flying arrows across the battlefield. Before you knew it the hand in your hair pulled you to the ground and you were on your knees faced with the serpent trapped behind his wool trousers.

“Now be the good little bunny you are and set your God free” he said as the hair he had in his fist fell free from his grasp.

Filled with nerves, your trembling fingers slowly reached up and skated across the black wool, hesitating for a moment once they touched the cool metal buckle of his belt. You looked up as if making sure it really was alright. He returned your wordless question with a light smile of reassurance. You slowly slid the leather belt out of the metal and grasped the button that was behind it and slipped it through the hole and pulled the zipper down. He sprung free from his prison and slapped his stomach with a snap.

You gulped hard, this was the first time you had ever seen a man in this way. You had seen one once before when a Gryffindor boy got a little too drunk at a party and thought it would be a good idea to whip it out as a laugh but it was nothing like this. Snape's cock was powerful and hot with desire, just as dominating as the man it was attached to. You could feel the slickness building between your legs as you looked up to him practically drunk.

“You look so beautiful down on your knees for me I wish you could see just how beautiful you look, all flushed and doe eyed looking up at me.” His words poured over you like honey. You craved his praise and you’d do anything he wanted to get it.

“Thank you professor! I… I’d do anything for you!” You cried out to him bouncing on your knees. You were passed the embarrassment, hell the embarrassment was fueling you. You didn’t care what you looked like, you just wanted to do whatever he wanted, that's all you’ve ever wanted to do for him.

“Oh I know I’ve heard you so many times lost in thought wondering how I looked under my robes,” his hand began to work the many buttons of his coat and he slipped it off onto the floor with yours. His white linen shirt flowed free around him as he worked up that as well. Soon his torso was bare and you eyed the pale skin that hid under it. You could see his scars that scattered around his smooth form and wondered how they felt.

He reached down, holding out a hand to yours. With a slight hesitation you placed them in his and he placed your hands on his stomach. Your fingers began to wonder, exploding the milky smooth skin you had dreamed about. A soft moan escaped him as your warm touch moved around his cold body. You couldn’t help but look up at him in amazement.

“Gods you’re just so pretty.” He said looking down at you with hooded eyes. You just couldn’t take it any more. You needed to touch his cock that had been staring you in the face far too long. You moved your hands down past his belly button following his little happy trail down to the base. Looking up to him one last time for permission, he nodded a gentle yes.

Grabbing the base, he was rock solid in your grasp. A huff escaped him and he slightly pumped into your hand. This sent your body into overdrive losing all sense of your humanity; you were just his slave to his desire. You worked your hand up and down his shaft not even able to touch your fingertips together as you pumped him slowly.

He reached out a hand and placed it on the top of your head and looped some hair around his fingers and pulled your face close to him. He smelt a mix of smoky body wash and sweat. He filled your nose with his scent and it made your eyes roll in the back of your head as you sniffed him in.

“Open that pretty little mouth of yours I can’t take this anymore.” He growled in pure need. Without hesitation you opened yourself for him and his tip was past your threshold before you had time to process. The precum that had began to gather on his tip spread across your tongue as he snaked himself into you. You couldn’t help but moan as your senses were attacked with him.

“Fuck your sweet little mouth feels better than I could have imagined.” He spit out. Your arms wrapped themselves around his thick thighs for support as he filled your mouth with his needy cock.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this moment. Fuck…. Take my cock. Just like that, you're such a good bunny for me.” You practically cried out in pleasure to the praise and the vibration only sent him into a craze. He began to frantically assault your throat, making you gag around him. The room filled with the sounds of your complete surrender to the man that now laid claim in your throat.

Tears filled your eyes and fell over your flushed cheeks, he reached a hand down and his fingers moved gently over them wiping away at your tear stained face. He pulled them to his mouth and took a long lick of his fingers, humming as he did so. You were practically crossed eyed looking up at him.

He pumped himself in you a few more times and released your mouth with a loud pop. You coughed out desperately for air but were sad that he had released your throat.

“As much as I’d love to cum down that pretty throat of yours it would be such a waste to put it there our first time.” “First time?” You thought. That implied this wasn’t going to be some one time event that you would think about over and over for the rest of your life on a loop.

“Oh you sweet little thing. You think I’d let you get away from me that easily? I’ve waited so long fighting with myself for a very long time. There is no way I’m letting you escape me.” His voice deep and raspy you trembled below him. Grabbing the collar of your shirt he pulled you back to your feet and placed his hands firmly around your waist and lifted you to sit upon the counter. You were practically face to face now, though he still had a bit of height on you even at this level.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and he pulled you back into a deep kiss. You found your arms sneaking in under his shirt and wrapping around his back pulling him close in. This kiss was pure sex and filled with fire. He pressed his body between your legs and his cock rubbed hard against your cotton panties. You could help but moan into his mouth with the sudden sensation shocking your wet core.

His right hand left your face and he made the journey down between your thighs. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your soaking wet pussy made you jump. He pulled away from the kiss and now looked you in your eyes the way you asked his consent with yours earlier. You couldn’t help but look away for a moment embarrassed but you quickly moved your gaze back to him and nodded with the most precious lust filled face.

Before you knew it his slender fingers were hooked into your panties and he slid them all the way down in one large motion. The air was chilled against the sopping wet mess you had under your skirt. He slipped your panties into his back pocket.

“You're never getting those back by the way” he chuckled out. “Now since it’s only fair I think it’s time we take this tight little top off?” He backed away and looked at you. It only took you a moment to understand he wanted to watch you do this part.

Your shaking hands made their way up to the top button and began to slowly slip them out. He hummed in anticipation as you revealed yourself and the pretty baby pink bra you had hidden underneath your shirt. The shirt joined the pile of accumulating clothes on the stone floor below you. His hands reached up and began to wonder around your plush supple skin. His touch made your skin send goosebumps over your body. You let out soft whimpers as his nail softly scraped along your bra's edge.

“Please” you moaned out

“Oh she speaks? Please what my dear?” He says against your neck.

“Please sir, I can’t take it please just touch me!” With your desperate cries he sunk his teeth into your neck kissing and sucking soon to be deep red hickies into your skin. You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain as he sneaked his hands behind you and made your bra fall to the floor where it belonged. Your breasts were exposed to him and the air and the mix of that made your nipples rock solid. His large hands began to knead into them with vigor and equal desperation. He easily found your nipple with his mouth and sucked and nipped. His deep moans filled the air and mixed with your high pitched squeals.

As his mouth sent attacks to your left breast and his left hand tweaked your right, his free hand found its way to your soaked pussy. It’s like he knew exactly how to curl his fingers around your clit to send shocks through your body. Your hips rolled desperately against his hand to feel him as much as you could.

“If only you could see how desperate and needy you are right now. Humping your dripping little cunt against me. Does your god feel good against your pretty pussy? Hmmm?” His words cut through you like a knife. All you could do is crumble under him in pleas and desperation.

“P…please please please, I need you, please fill me up I can’t take it anymore.” Tears filling your eyes again.

“Well if you beg me so nicely how could I say no to that?” With no warning his cock was pressed against your slit and plunged deep inside you. You cried out in pain as he was still against you.

“Shhh I’m right here I won’t move until you’re ready ok?” He said in between kissing away even more tears on your cheeks.

You were a mess under him but this was the only place in the entire world you wanted to be. For seven years you dreamed about him and wanting him so desperately to fill you up and here you were getting exactly that. You clutched onto his back sending your nails deep into his flesh. He couldn’t help but move forward slightly into you from the sensation. You let out a moan and tightened around him that made him moan into your neck.

“Please move” you breathed out. You didn’t have to ask him twice; his hips moved with a sudden urgency that even shocked him. As if on autopilot he moved in a primal need into your center and filled the room with sounds of him slapping against you. His hands gripped your waist hard, unbeknownst to you both, would leave behind bruises the next day.

His pace was slow at first but over time with the growing moans that escaped your mouth he began to move faster and more erratic.

“Fuck your pussy feels so good around me. Your cunt is sucking me in so eagerly.” He said through gritted teeth. His words made you clench harder around him. “Tell me how does my big cock feel inside you?”

“Hmgmmhh-“ is all your mouth manages to get out between his powerful thrusts. He grabbed the hair in the back of your head, snapping you back to look him deep in his eyes. “What did I tell you about speaking when spoken too? Don’t make me have to punish you when you’ve been so good for me.” He growled down at you.

“You feel so good! Y..you make me feel so full, I’ve n..never felt like this down there before.”

He paused and looked at you, you whined at the sudden stop. “Is this the first time you’ve had someone inside you?” He asked in disbelief. You panicked afraid that he would want to stop with your lack of experience.

“I’m sorry! Is that a problem? I don’t want to disappoint you!” You said, shaken. His eyes widened and immediately placed your face in his hands.

“Oh gods no! I’m just shocked someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you hadn’t had a line of boys trying to take you to bed with them.” A soft smile looked down on you and you nuzzled yourself into his touch.

“I have always just waited in hope that ummm it would be you.” You said looking away.

You could feel him throb in you as that escaped your lips. Without warning his hips snapped in you at a frantic pace once more.

“What a sexy little nymph you are. I am going to truly lose my mind.” He grunted as he pumped you deeper and deeper with each passing thrust. His fingers slipped down and found their way to your clit once again. Your moans filled his ears like prayers. Begging for a release that you were desperately in need of.

“Please sir I-I’m so close.” Your face found its way to his shoulder as you cried out.

“D-does my pretty bunny want to cum for me? Have you been a good girl? Should I allow you to cum all over my big cock?” He asked into your hair.

“God please, please let me cum! I’m begging you please!” You screamed out.

“Fuck, cum on my cock while I fill you deep with mine!” He shouted back at you. He plowed into you at dangerous speeds, hitting your cervix with every lightning crack of his hips. Circling faster around your clit with his thumb. You could feel yourself on the edge so close to your sweet release. With one final snap of his hips you lost all control coming undone around his throbbing cock. Squirting all around him unaware you were even able to do that.

When he felt you release around him that’s all he needed, “Fuck fuck fuck take my cum, fuck!”and shot load after load of his hot cum deep into your pussy. Grunting like an animal as he reached his glorious climax that he has dreamed of for so long.

You both stayed in this wrapped position for what seemed like an eternity panting and gasping for air. When you both found your breath he planted sweet gentle kisses all over you. You giggled with each one he bestowed upon you.

“Gods I’m going to keep you locked down here forever.” He said between kisses.

“You’d have to pull me out of here to get me to leave.” You replied back and planted a gentle kiss on his swollen lips.

“Well that would never happen,” he said looking over you sweetly.“Now let’s get you in my chambers so we can get you right in the bath because you are one dirty bunny.”

“Yeah your dirty little bunny.” You giggled into his ear and with that you were whisked out of the store room and through his chamber door off for more of your wildest dreams to play out before you.

[gor3-hound]

meant to be yours

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, unwilling cannibalism - reciever doesn't know! self-mutilation. obsessive, creepy, delusional reader. no real sex but masturbation n fantasies. very little smut and also a lil vomit.

a/n: idk why, but i... could not get this out of my head. been writing this the past few hours n it's now 1am... all i'm gonna say is read at your own discretion

word count: 1.9k words

There wasn't much good in your life. Not really. You'd never been one to talk much. No family, no friends. You spent most of your life working, dropping out of school, and saving money from a young age in order to pursue your one true passion - baking.

Opening up your own shop was hard. You went hungry most nights in order to skim a little cash from your dead-end job to be able to afford the down payment. But it worked. You had your own bakery, and business was booming.

For once in your life, you felt happy.

The day Leon came into the bakery for the first time changed everything. A festering desire found its way into your mind, an itch that wouldn't leave. He was your soul mate, you knew it. He was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. So pure and untouched.

He made your skin crawl. You needed to be closer to him, to corrupt him in a way that no one would ever come close to you. You needed to be his, mind, body and soul. His smile made you nauseous. How many others had received that same smile?

No. You had to have him in a way no one else could.

You started experimenting. Simple things, really. Your love for him was all consuming, and you're sure in time he'd come to understand how much you worshipped him. He'd be appreciative of all you'd done for him once he found out.

It made it all worth it as you carved into your flesh for the first time. Your teeth clamped down on an old leather belt of yours to stiffle your screams, a piece of fabric tied tight around your thigh to slow the bleeding as you cut chunks of your flesh out.

The pain almost made you pass out, but you wouldn't let your weakness get in the way of showing devotion to Leon. You swallowed your bile as it rose up your throat, blinked past the blurriness of your tears.

You did your best to treat the wounds efficiently after. YouTube can only teach you so much, and your hands wouldn't stop shaking, so you couldn't wrap the bandage as tight as you should have. But that was okay. You couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk someone stopping your plan.

You swallowed some painkillers and went to bed, content with the knowledge that tomorrow was Saturday. That meant Leon would be coming. You had something really special for him.

You wake up with a hop in your step the next morning despite the excruciating pain you were in. You down more painkillers and pop the pack in your pocket, although it does little to dull your pain.

You grind the carefully harvested flesh down. You had already made the dough which had expanded nicely. This would have to be your best work, after all. You carefully lay out the necessary ingredients, combining them before placing the filling neatly into the dough.

You gather up the edges of the disc you'd made, folding them over the seasoned flesh and tucking them in to form a nice ball. You smile at yourself, feeling like you deserved a pat on the back. Once the egg wash is on, you place them into the oven and glance at the clock.

Perfect timing.

You smile and set up the rest of the bakery for opening. Once the buns are cooked, you take them out and place them in the back. You greet all the customers as friendly as always despite the burning in your thigh and the obsession making itself known in the forefront of your brain.

The closer it gets to Leon's usual entrance time, the more antsy you get. You can't keep still, shifting your weight between your feet as it becomes increasingly more difficult not to snap at every customer that walks in. They were all wasting your time.

Your eyes flick over to the clock on your wall constantly. The quiet ticking makes your eyes twitch and keeps your nerves on edge. You want to rip the clock from the wall and-

“Hey.” Your head snaps to the door. A smile makes its way to your face as you relax. Finally. You lean on the counter, your gaze trailing Leon's face appreciatively.

“Leon. Hi.” You breathe out, all the tension seeping out of your muscles. He makes all the pain you endured worth it, just to see his smile. “The usual?”

He nods softly, and you get to work packing his order. He likes to treat himself to a slice of cake and a pastry at the end of the week. It's the cutest thing ever to you, and you always like to throw in an extra little snack. On the house, of course.

“Hey, I tried something new today. Saved some for my favourite customer. Want to try it?” The festering in your mind returns tenfold. You didn't know what you'd do if he didn't accept. Your mind was screaming at you, wanting nothing more than to see him eat your flesh. To become one with you.

Please. Your mind supplies, your breathing growing shallow as you wait for his reply. The seconds feel like they stretch into hours, your nails digging into your palms and leaving little crescent shaped marks in the flesh.

“Sure! What did you make?” He asks, sweet as ever. The air you suck in after that satisfies your whole body, like the first breath of air after you'd been drowning. Your lungs stop burning, your mind stops screaming.

“I'm trying out some more savoury stuff. Trying to broaden my horizons, you know?” You say with a chuckle, stepping back to retrieve the tray. “I made some pork buns. Saved them just for you. They're all yours, if you like them.”

He lets out a laugh himself, eyes examining the food in front of him. “You're too good to me. These look amazing.”

Take one. Please. Just one.

“Ah, it's nothing.” You say causally, your eyes locked on his hands as they reach out for one of the buns. Your heart beats faster, feeling like it's about to break free past the cage of your ribs. “You're an officer. Just giving back.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” He says with an amused smile, finally picking up one of them.

Yesyesyesyes. Just a little longer.

It takes every ounce of willpower in you not to make a noise as he takes a bite. It's even harder to keep a neutral expression as he chews it, his eyes widening slightly. He swallows the bite, looks at you and grins. You lean forward, watching with morbid curiosity as his Adam's apple bobs, picturing the chunks of your flesh sliding down his throat.

“Wow! These are, like… really good. You should definitely start selling them.” He compliments, taking another bite. You watch him finish up the bun with increasing interest, your eyes practically sparkling with joy and your pussy throbbing with need.

“That's, um…” Your words come out shaky, so you clear your throat and try again. “Thank you. That means a lot. I'm really glad you liked it.”

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed.

If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

“No, no. I think that's it.” He says with a head tilt, not looking unlike a puppy in that moment. You want to keep him in a little room, safe from the cruelty in the world. Maybe a cute little display case you dust off every day.

“Alright, no problem, then.” You say as you start to ring up his order, telling him the price and taking the money. “Let me just wrap these up, and you can be on your way.”

With practised ease, you quickly wrapped the ordered items in paper, making sure the wrapping is secure. Once done, you carefully place them into a brown paper bag, double checking everything was intact. Reaching out, you held it out towards Leon, a kind smile on your face as you tried to ignore the aggressive beating of your heart. Your hand shook slightly, yearning for contact. For just a tiny moment of skin on skin. "Here you go.”

“Thank you so much! I'll see you next week.” He tells you as he reaches for the bag, his fingers brushing yours lightly as he takes it, getting ready to leave the bakery.

"Have a wonderful day." You reply, your voice breaking slightly as you watch him walk away. Your eyes follow his form disappearing down the street until he was out of sight before you let out a ragged breath, collapsing against the counter. Today had been... too close. Too much contact. You needed to calm down.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your mind wanders for the rest of the day, thinking about how satisfying it would be when you were finally his. You'd get him to accept your gifts with open arms. How could he not love you when he'd realised how much you'd sacrificed for him?

You wanted him to dip his tongue in your wounds, to thank you properly for the pain you'd sustained for him. You'd worship every inch of his body, give everything you'd had to him.

Oh, how good it would feel when he sunk his cock into you for the first time. You'd be perfect for him, open up so easily for him. You'd take every inch without complaint, let him fuck you as often as he wanted.

Maybe he'd sink his teeth directly into your neck when he realised how much he craved your flesh. You'd make him crave another taste. The thought made you shiver, arousal pooling into the gusset of your panties, making the fabric stick to you.

You closed up early to return to your apartment. You find your bed instantly, flopping down and stripping within seconds. You shove two fingers deep into your cunt as you pictured Leon fucking you. The sloppy wet noises fill your room as your moans echo off the empty walls.

Your free hand shifts to the wound on your thigh, and you press down harshly. You scream in pain, nausea hitting you instantly at the agonising pain. It's enough to make you cum, your pussy gushing around your fingers. You lean over the edge of the bed, throwing up onto the hardwood floor. You'd deal with it later.

You curl up into a ball, breathing heavily through tears and mucus as the burning sensation worsens. You can barely breathe through the acrid scent assaulting your senses. It was all worth it. You'd tear every muscle fibre of your body apart to show your reverence to Leon. No one can love him like you can.

You wouldn't be content until he devoured you whole. Not until your souls became intertwined and you were sure you'd plague his thoughts like he had plagued yours. His teeth would sink deep into the flesh of your still beating heart, and only then would he understand the extent to which you adored him.

His innocent appearance meant nothing when he could ruin you so completely with one simple look. One touch. One smile.

He already had.

[take-everything-you-can]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: This Fandom has given me the most inspiration I've had in years and this is a thank you to every single one of you. This idea spurred from one too many drinks and unhinged DMs and I'm so excited to share it with you guys. So here goes nothing lol. A special thanks to my lady loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @bettyfrommars , and @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading and letting me fill your inboxes with all my little thots for our little gremlin man !

P.S : BEFORE I GET INTO ANYTHING THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without ya'll )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, mentions of weight ( mentions of food within the story throughout), disordered eating, feeling unloved, self deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining Smut- fingering, soft touches, overstimulation slightly very slight, unprotected PIV, cream pie, spanking,..... tbh i can't think of anymore but if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 4.1K

Flour covers the countertop in your kitchen, and a rolling pin is set to the side while you knead the soft pastry ingredients together. Apples sit freshly peeled in a separate dish. Sliced and added to sugar and cinnamon. Picking up the rolling pin, you do your best to flatten the dough to a thin sheet and mold it to the glass dish before you. 

“Well, this dough is much better than the first,” you say aloud to yourself. Your husband once told you that speaking out loud to yourself was a sign of a weak mind, you never put much stock in that. But here you were doing exactly that as your days consist of waiting for your husband to return home from work. 

You splash a bit of vanilla into the apple mixture to complete your pie filling. Once it is all tucked neatly beneath the fluffy dough, you take a knife and leave four little holes within the surface and crimp the edges together, sealing the flavors within. A touch of sugar is added to the top along with an egg wash before placing the pie on a rack in the oven. A timer is set for twenty minutes, a reminder to lower the temperature and to add your special ingredient.

Soft music plays throughout the house, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald keep you company on these long lonely days. Lonely but only for such a short time. Your husband works for the state doing something he thinks you're too dumb to understand so why talk about it? If anyone ever asks you simply say ‘Oh please you think a woman wants to know such things’. That usually earns you a laugh at cocktail parties and a warm smile from your man. If you could even call him that. 

Yes, he is your man in the sense that your last names are the same and you had shared the same bed. Where is the love though? It isn’t tangible and hasn’t been for quite some time now. Your day begins and ends with a few words apart from an I love you. You served him still, acted to the prying eyes, as a doting Wife. Four years and Everyone still thought you had a perfect life. 

That dream of white picket fences and shared milkshakes. That love of never-ending kisses and satisfying sex. Everyone around you wanted all that you had. Would they still want your life if they could see past those closed doors and shut curtains? 

Would they want to spend their mornings hiding the bags under their eyes from nights of restless sleep? Would they want to have a constant monologue of the flaws seen in the mirror? Ones that your oh-so-loving husband pointed out to you time and time again. Would they want to cook and clean knowing they would never receive a thank you? No, you knew they wouldn’t. All the small things that build and grow until it becomes a monotonous routine. Walking through days as if the next would be the exact same and then doing it all again and again, Until one day something changed. 

Two months prior A knock on the door, one that started to come once a week. The company of CC & Drums Dairy was paid to bring you a gallon of milk, A necessity your husband called it. A man with long dark locks that flowed over his shoulder and curls that dipped across his forehead under his cap. Deep Brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of amber as the sun hit him just right. Dressed in white overalls to comply with his company uniform and sleek black shoes that shine just as brightly as his smile. His name tag reads Eddie in a sweet embroidered cursive. Eddie, a name that would soon become something you would never forget. 

Your timer goes off as you check the pie, squeezing a lemon over the crust for that citrus tang. Slipping the dessert back into the oven, for another half hour or so, a knock sounds through the house, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a tizzy. Eddie had arrived.

A quick task of undoing the strings to your apron and a fast fix of hair in the mirror you had hung in the hall. A hand to your abdomen as you intake a breath and let it stagger out between your lips, hesitating to open the door. The second you see him you can feel the way the tops of your cheeks heat and plump with a smile. One that matches his.

 You take a second and wonder if he knows how handsome he is. The way the small lines beside his eyes crinkle with years of use. You wonder if he knows that the instant you see him, your heart stops beating. But most of all you wonder if you're the only one those soft eyes and long lashes catch in his gaze. 

“Afternoon darling, I must say this heat wave has got to be breaking records. Ought not keep these out here too long.” as he lifts the small crate of glass bottles holding the product out.

 You knew better than to take it from him, even if every bone in your body screamed too. The last time you tried you nearly flipped the whole crate, underestimating the weight. From that day on you always stood to the side as you let Eddie into your home to set the dairy in your kitchen. It was another thing you wondered about him. Did he do this for everyone else too?

“ Well let's not keep them then sir.” standing to the side he slides past you brushing a hand across the elbow you held to the door. His way of saying hello. Small touches here and there as he could never keep his hands to himself for too long in your presence.

“ Something smells awful delicious in her ma’am.”

“An Apple pie is in the oven, maybe you’ll stay and have a slice. For your troubles of course.” 

“Mhmm, my troubles.” Eddie sat the crate on the counter next to the ice box and turned his body towards you and enveloped you in his stronghold. An intoxicating embrace as he pulled you flush to his body. 

“ I missed you, you know that pretty girl?” soft tone, almost a whisper. A small smile he couldn't see but could feel made its way to your face. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls on your route.” he lets out a small chuckle.

“Only the breathtaking ones.” a falter to your features as your mind reeled with all the possibilities.

 Does he miss Mrs.Cunningham the way he misses you? Does he miss Ms.Buckley the same? That sick green monster finds its way under your skin as you think of all the girls he must have at his beck and call. But today that monster wasn’t going to ruin the few fleeting moments you could spend with him. You needed Eddie in the most carnal of ways.

“Do you want to know what I missed? “ Your fingers trail their way from the small of his back and up over his shoulder, landing on his neck just below his ear. Cupping his face you bring it down and catch his lips as they meet yours. 

“Oh yeah? you missed me too Pumpkin?” a second crash of your lips to his, makes him hum from the back of his throat. His nose nudges yours to the left so his teeth can catch your bottom lip, pulling back slightly to hear the small whine you emit.

“I always miss you, Eddie.”  His hands travel down over your figure as he starts to ruffle the hem of your dress up. Thankful for its length to hide how wet you had become just from him being in the home you share with your spouse. A topic you and Eddie tried to steer clear of, but the wrongness of the act just felt so right. 

Over a year your husband hadn’t touched you, barely talked to you and some days you were even sure he hadn't even looked in your direction. Eddie though, In the last two months, Eddie had made you feel seen. He made you feel heard, and most of all he made you feel desired.  

As his hand finds the thin cotton that covers your cunt he glides his digits over the wet patch that had grown by just the thought of him. A deep hum and a small huff of breath from Eddie against your neck as he kissed his way to your shoulder. 

“So wet for me and I've barely even touched you. Are you that starved for affection?” The words forming in that sweet small surrender to him were all but cut off as he slid a finger through your folds and teased your entrance. A gasp was the response he got, one he loved to hear in protest every time he had you. 

“C’mon honey tell me what you want.” how could you respond to him with words if you couldn't even think of them? The man before you had spent the last few months discovering just how to make you melt in his arms.

 He knew that the spot behind your knee was his best friend for when he had you on your back. He knew the way your hips stutter when you're close to your peak, and he knew that if your eyes found that they couldn't stay open that you were in utter bliss.

 His favorite thing he had learned throughout your time together though was that even when he knew you had your doubts, you still trusted him in every sense of the word. 

After only two months Eddie knew you better than you know yourself. Better than your husband had ever cared to know you.

“ Please, Eddie.” He smiled down at you 

“ Please What Honey?” 

“ Dip in Eddie, Fuck me please.”  He could feel the slackening of your legs as his assault on your clit had made you a bit sensitive, in his focus on making you feel as good as he possibly could, in what little time he had with you. He slid two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat as his thumb stayed in a rhythm that matched his wrist as he curled in and let the sounds of his efforts echo off the small kitchen walls. 

Moaning into Eddie's ear as his finger worked in and out of you making that heat inside of you grow higher and higher. Clutching the strap of his overalls, a small pull leaning back, as the pleasure he was giving you kept climbing. 

“ Come on now baby, let go.” A final intake of air, hold on to the breath that led you to your walls squeezing eddies fingers tight. That coil snapped as you let your body fall slack against him a loud moan from the farthest depths within you found its way out of your lungs. 

When your eyes land on Eddie after your come down all you can see is that smile. The dimple-creasing smile that kept haunting your dreams at night. 

“I need more.” You didn’t know how but his smile grew even wider and more sinister as his tone began to deepen. A kiss is pressed to your lips, not urgent, understanding. 

“ You need more? Well, it's a damn good thing that what you're asking for is in stock then Pumpkin.” He turned you around to face the small table that sat in your kitchen, knowing what he wanted from you. He wasn’t the only one taking notes from your time together. 

You braced yourself against the worn wood and clutched the sides of it as you heard the familiar clinks of metal as his rings fumbled with the buckle of his belt.  

The wait, though it is small, is brutal. Anticipation makes your stomach flip and cunt flutter. A shuffle out of his overalls gives Eddie a moment to just admire the way you listen so well. These small moments have him thanking every bad decision that got him here. To this small town, with this small job, on this small route. A route he picked up as a last resort. Yeah, he doesn't know who he's praying to but whoever is listening, he's singing grace. 

A grip in the slight pudge of your hips to keep himself steady, Eddie is gentle as he slips his cock through your folds gathering your slick over his length and breaching your desire. A deep moan and a few choice words fall from Eddie as he fills you and meets the small wavering gasp you let out, a breath you didn't know you had been holding.  A whine of impatience, his sign to move. 

A soft speed turns ravenous as his dick uses your walls to curve his hooks into you deeper and deeper. A sigh of his name and you can feel the stutter in his thrust. He slows his pace if only to keep himself from having to leave your presence all too soon.  

"Fuck darling, so good to me, taking me so well like this pussy was made for me."  You mewl from beneath him, dropping your forehead to the wood that is holding you up. You fear that if it had not been here your legs would have given up the second he started talking. "Isn't that right pumpkin? Made just for me? " A sharp thrust and you know he wants an answer in the way his grip turns bruising. A trip through your mind as you try and collect the words from thin air. 

"YES! God yes, I was made just for you." 

"Such a good girl for me baby. That's right, isn't it? You're all mine aren't you?"  Another squeeze to your hip and a smack that lands hard on your ass. Eddie's palm kneads the sting as you answer him. 

" All yours, all yours, no one else, just you baby." A grunt hum from the back of his throat as he grips your shoulder and leans so his body is flush with yours. His breath is on your neck as he leans to your ear. 

"Not even your husband, just you and me baby?" 

"Just you and me Ed's" Your eyes tunnel and you see white as your orgasm rushes through you, Eddie's own a thrust away as he moans deep against your skin. His body weight and yours against the kitchen table as you both find your way down from the clouds. 

Small kisses he leaves to your spine and the back of your neck. You turn your head and he places another small one to the upturned corner of your mouth. A bell chimes and you sit for a few seconds letting Eddie gather his own bearings. A small pat to the curve of your pussy as Eddie pulls the cotton back in place. A shock to your sensitivity.

"Keep that in there baby, that way you have a part of me while I'm gone." A heat to your cheeks as the thought of Eddie's cum dripping out of you while your husband sat across from you and read the paper over dinner. A sly smirk from the man you just let defile the small space, one you would let do ungodly things to you. 

You put on oven mitts as Eddie finds a few glasses in the cabinet. You slice into the flakey crust and slip through the filling as you place the large piece on a plate for you to share. Eddie pours milk as you find some silverware, he places the bottles in your fridge so they keep.

Turning with a smile, he is the definition of adoration. In your eyes he is everything. 

Why is it that when his time with you is coming to an end you almost wish it would end as soon as possible? Almost as if you would wish he would part with some harsh words to make you not want him in the most beautiful ways. You have to make yourself believe these things before he leaves because if you don’t, it would just shatter you. So you take a different route, you don’t shatter yourself, instead, you splinter and crack all the things that hold you until you see him again. The times where he glues those little shards back in place if only for you to break them off again and again. A scared thought and a small shake of your head trying to rid yourself of it. A married woman. What would he possibly want from you other than a good lay? 

He sees that doubt within your mind as if reading it. He takes your hand in his as he laces your fingers together. 

“ Penny for your thoughts Pumpkin?” You glance finally meeting his eyes as you clear your throat. 

“ Nothing important hun.” You slide a fork to his side of the table as your eyes dart to the clock.  He squeezes your hand once more, lowering his eyes in search of yours again. 

“It is important if it bothers you.” Your heart stops. The breath you were going to take gets caught in your throat and you turn on that winning smile you had trained yourself to hold in uncomfortable circumstances. One you wish he couldn't see through.

“ It’s nothing Eds, really.” 

“Do you promise?” you take a hand and cup his cheek.

 How do you tell him that he is your first thought in the morning and the last thought before falling asleep? How instead of counting sheep you try and count the freckles on his face by sheer memory?  How could you tell him you wish you were his one and only? That you have never felt about another human soul the way you feel about his. Instead, you stuff it down, apple pie soon to follow. 

“I Promise.”  

You know he doesn’t believe you but he would rather set out to sea and die of starvation as the sharks feed from him than to make the last moments he has with you tainted with fights and tears. God when you cry it absolutely destroys him. 

The first time you had ever let him take you in his arms you had just gotten off the phone with your husband. He had heard hushed words while he waited for you to grab the weekly tip your husband left for him. Your husband had informed you that he would not be coming home, as the fight from the night before had lingered into the morning and would now follow you well into the night. The first time you had opened the door Eddie studied the angelic features of your face, and they had plagued his dreams for such a long time at this point.

When you rounded the corner with a smudge of mascara beneath your eyes, he instantly without thinking took you in, pushing your face to his chest as his hand rested on the back of your head. Slight comfort made the tears begin again as he wiped the remainder of the smudge and irritation from your face. No man had ever done something as small as comforting you before.  In the two months since he had started this route, he knew he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with you.

You had taken two bites from the plate that sat in front of you and Eddie had finished the slice. He even went as far as to slide a finger in the crumbs on the plate and lick them off in an attempt to show you how much he had enjoyed it. His time with you. 

A gathering of glasses you brought to the sink as he brought the other dishes and sat them in the deep well while wrapping his arms around your waist and you stood eyes closed relishing in the last little bit of affection he could offer to you. 

A kiss to your shoulder as you turn your head resting it on his.

“I’ll be by in a week Pumpkin.” A nod to the fact you already knew. “ Seven days.” Another nod, not risking the crumble in your voice. “ Not long at all.”  Another small kiss to your cheek as you turned into his chest and rested your forehead on his. 

“Seven days?” 

“ Seven days Pumpkin. Do you think you can wait for me? Just seven days? “

“I think I could wait a lifetime for you Eddie.” 

“I’ll see you in a week, Mrs.Carver.”

“ A week Mr.Munson.” 

A kiss to your lips and a parting gift of his very own pie before he snuck out through the back door, so as to not raise suspicion. A slow walk from the kitchen to the door and to turn a lock, on your mind. On your hope. You could do this. You could wait seven days.

Your husband comes through the door late as he had been doing for the last year or so. You had expected it from him at this point. You had started to make his dinner later and later knowing that if you had made it too early he would tell you all the ways he couldn't eat it. If it had gone too cold he would refuse and the hard work would go directly into the trash. 

He walked in as you took his dinner off the stove and placed it on a dish for him.

“Right on time doll.”

“ I don’t know how on time it is, It’s Nearly eight in the evening, Jason!”     

“ I’m not doing this with you tonight.”  

He always did this. He would come home and you would ask him where he had been, and he’d always end the conversation before it could even begin. You sat his plate in front of him as you sat across the table from him. Times where you could really take him in and see that the feelings you had once long ago were snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

“ Are you not eating dear?” 

“ I ate a bit earlier in the day.”

“Thanks for waiting .”  He rolled his eyes and you returned the gesture. 

“ I wouldn’t have had to wait if you had just picked up the phone and told me when you were going to be on your way home. I’m not waiting until we hit a new day to eat Jason I’m not going hungry just so you-”

“ Wouldn’t harm you any though would it.” 

You left the table. Your weight had started to become a key focus as he knew it bothered you more than anything else. You had gained some weight and your mother and friends had commented on it from time to time. For your husband to tho, it made you furious. You ate when you were unhappy, it was something you had done since you were a child. The only person who thought you could stand to eat a little more had been Eddie. 

It happened slowly, you would make him food now and then, and the majority of the time He would offer you a bit. It started with a bite and progressed into cutting his sandwiches in half just so you could have something to eat. Unlike your husband, Eddie had a suspicion that you weren’t eating enough. Like you weren’t giving your body what it needed to survive so he would constantly ask for you to eat with him. At least then he would know you had something of substance within your day.  

You had gone to your bedroom and gotten out of your daily’s slowly separating them into their hampers waiting to hear the stomping footsteps of Jason as he made his way to the spare bedroom. He had taken residency there about a month before Eddie came into your life and you were thankful for the times that Eddie left you yearning for more. To call out another man's name while with your significant other no matter how insignificant they were would still bring you shame like no other.

Slipping into your nightgown as Jason shuts the door to his room you wait a few minutes to take the walk back down the stairs to stand in front of the sink. Looking up at the sky through the window above the stars seem to shine brightly. You attempt to find the little dipper and look for its companion not far from where it lays, the version of a larger size. Constellations begin to blur as you let the silent tears fall. Hoping that somewhere out there in this little old town, Eddie too is looking up at the moon and wishing you were by his side as you wished upon all the stars in the sky. What a long time seven days would be.

[wint3r-h3art]

More Than You Bargain For | Sinfully Yours Au

Summary: Sugar Daddy! Strange is back. It's been five months since the events of The Beginning. Nothing was more blissful than spending your first summer at Lake Como by your doctor's side, but of course, there was always something or someone that may have ruined just that.

W/C: over 2K

Warnings: smut: cunnilingus & angst. Plot heavy that lead to the next part. Mentioned of Odin, as well as an appearance of Loki & Thor 😈 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.

A/N: My writing for Strange is a little rusty, but this idea has been floating for some time. I just think that their arrangement is a bit messy, especially when feelings do evolve. 🥲 As usual, no beta. If I missed anything, I do apologize. If you enjoyed this, please comment & reblog for support. I love hearing about your thought on this little Drabble.

*** Do not copy, repost, or translate my works anywhere else!!

Sweat trickled down your neck as you felt his lips skim along your collarbones. Your back ached as his body pinned you against the wall of the villa. Rough fingertips dug into the soft skin of your hips, imprinting his touches straight to your bones.

The cool breeze from the lake did nothing to cool down the fire he set upon your senses as he slid his tongue along the slippery seam. Every part of you buzzed and hummed with anticipation of being discovered. What would they say about the well-respected Doctor Strange, down on his knees with his face buried between some woman’s legs? 

The age gap between the two of you has never been an issue–or at least that’s what you assume. The arrangement that you came to be was purely out of desperation between needing financial support from him, and him needing companionship from you. You made a deal with him some five months ago, and looked how far you have come now with your sundress hiked up to your waist, and the good doctor’s face buried right between the legs.

The sex had always been easy because you had always had a crush on him since your day as the barista from a small coffee shop he frequented. He was also quite understanding about this whole arrangement as well, which begged the question as to why he was single in the first place. But you kept that to yourself because your job was to be his sugar baby–to be his arm candy, and to make him look good. It wasn’t your job to ask him questions that he doesn’t want to answer.

And quite frankly, you were too attached to him to want to know why he wanted to stay single.

A muffled, tortuous moan slipped past your lips when you felt him parting your folds with his tongue as he settled into a feast. Your legs trembled. Your hand in his hair, bunching and pulling at the soft strands until he let out a low, rumbling groan that reverberated straight into your pussy, pulling you closer to the edge. 

He was spreading you open with his hands as if he was trying to plunge his tongue deeper inside you, and you couldn’t help but ground your hips to meet your mouth.

“Stephen…” you sobbed softly, trying to not make any loud noises because there were people up front.

Thor Odinson had invited Doctor Strange to his summer home here at Lake Como since the doctor was a good friend of his father, Odin Borson. 

With the state that the two of you were in though, you weren't quite sure if Thor would ever invite you to his home ever again if he walked in on the two of you fucking like a bunch of horny teenagers behind his villa.

Stephen Strange didn’t reply to you as he thrust his tongue into your drenching pussy. Your hips churned as your pulse pounded to your clit. Each shallow penetration continued to push you further and closer to your release. 

He was your heaven and hell wrapped into a six-foot-something, forty-year-old man. And when he started to suck on your clit, your brain turned into a puddle.

You came with a strangled moan as your body clenched and trembled. Your thighs clenched tightly around his head, but that didn’t seem to bother him much as he continued to drink all of your releases. 

It felt like an eternity though as you stood there waiting on Strange to finish what he was doing. Your body felt warm from the Italian summer air and well from what your doctor was doing to you. Your legs felt almost boneless and you had to brace yourself against the wall of the villa.

You looked up, and Strange wasn’t in a better state than you as his hair was messy, standing up in various directions. His face was flushed. Lips gleam from the remnant of your little act. You helped straighten his clothes of course, because everyone would be suspicious if he returned looking so disheveled and so…relax now.

He smiled and looked at you as you helped him fold the sleeves of his linen shirt, revealing the many tattoos he adorned.

“They're gonna know,” you mumbled.

“Nobody’s going to know. They probably think we’re exploring the house or something.”

He failed at trying to reassure you, especially when he looked so…smugged.

“Besides, Thor is a friend–everyone here are friends. Nobody cares.”

Yes. Your friends. Not mine.

“Even his brother?” 

Loki Odinson. Thor’s younger brother had never gotten along with the doctor. Even when you and Strange first showed up here, you didn’t feel the welcoming air around him like the rest of the family. The two men could not stand each other. Something about Strange humiliated the younger Odinson during his Ph.D. days.

Again, their history had always been vague, and you weren’t close enough to ask questions. 

“Loki is…Loki. Acknowledging him will not do you good. It is best if you’re not acquainted with him.”

“That bad?”

Strange chuckled. “Depends on your definition of ‘bad’. I think of it as a friendly banter between old acquaintances”

You stared at him with the expression of ‘Are you kidding me?’. Strange just chuckled again.

“Don’t worry, ok?” His large hands clasped over your shoulders.

You chewed on your lips briefly before you nodded. Stephen placed a kiss on your forehead before heading back to the party first, leaving you here to your worried thoughts.

As Stephen Strange disappeared out of your line of sight, you heard another footstep approaching, and of course, who else would that be beside the one person you dreaded to be alone with the most?

Loki noticed your expression and he stopped and leaned against the stone railing that overlooked the lake. A mischievous smirk quirked at the corner of his lips as he observed you for a long moment.

“The doctor is a bit too old for you, don’t you think?”

“I’m a full-grown adult…my decision is my own.”

Loki chuckled as he raked his long slender fingers through his hair. Oh, you definitely exceeded his expectation alright. Perhaps this was why Strange picked you. He was never the type to go for someone with no backbone.

“Of course. I just thought it’s funny that you would be with someone twice your age…especially when you can do so much better.”

You could feel the heat flooding your face. You couldn’t tell what his intention was. 

“I did a little research–,” he continued. “Y’know as one would when an outsider suddenly got invited to a private gathering. I’m not here to judge, but I do applaud you for the sort of scheme you’re playing. Never thought that Strange would be into the whole sugar daddy thing, but hey, when your ex of over five years dumped you and married some guys she met just a little under a year, I would do something out of the ordinary too.”

His words sting you deeply, and you were trying very hard to now show him any sort of emotion to satisfy his little jab.

“What is your point then, Mr. Odinson?”

Loki chuckled as if he found this whole situation funny.

“Nothing at all. Just curious about what the two of you are going to be…Strange is not the type to settle that easily, and I don’t think he would settle for someone…well…”

“Someone like me?”

Loki smirked. “Oh darling, I think you can do so much better than the doctor. I would hate to see your heart get broken. That’s all.”

“What makes you think that I’m going to get my heart broken when you already know that this is just an arrangement.”

“Sweetheart, I can see the way you were looking at him…It is more than what you bargained for, and to be quite frank with you, I don’t think he’s worth it.”

Loki took a few steps toward you until he was in front of you. His designer cologne permeated the air around you, filling you with nothing but his scent.  

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why settle for one rich guy, when you’re surrounded by plenty here?”

You couldn’t miss the gleam in his eyes as he stared at you with a newfound interest.

“If money is what you want, it shouldn’t be a problem, and of course, it doesn’t hurt that I am much closer to your age than he ever is.” 

Anger that was simmered beneath your skin was finally boiling over. It was never about his interest in you. It had always been about looking at you like you were some sort of a whore, wanting nothing more than money. What you had with Strange was more than an exchange of money and sex–it was about seeking solace in each other–About filling the void of the loneliness that only the two of you understand. He warned you of the way others would perceive this sort of arrangement, but you just didn’t imagine it was going to be this way. Perhaps you were naive after all.

 You were about to open your mouth to say something, but a voice interrupted.

“Is this how you are trying to flirt, Loki?” came Strange’s voice, making the other man’s head whip back. You could see Loki’s expression change as he straightened up to his full height. Anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t distinguish between the two, but you could see the way his thin lips pulled into a straight line. His deep green eyes darkened with stormy clouds. 

“Couldn’t keep your clammy little hands to yourself, huh?” Strange was now standing right beside you, with his arm around your waist as he offered the other man a friendly, yet cold smile.

“Oh, you know. Couldn’t help but entertain your little friend here…”

“Girlfriend,” Strange corrected, and you could feel heat spread out onto your face and straight to the tip of your ears.

Being called his girlfriend was definitely, and definitely welcoming. The thought just never occurred to you that he was going to say it out loud so casually.

Unless he really didn’t mean it like that.

Loki noticed the unhinged expression on Strange's face, and he knew when the battle was lost. As much as he hated it, Loki conceded with a smirk. 

“Of course. How could I ever be mistaken? Perhaps another time, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You watched as the dark-haired man walked back into the house without so much as turning back. His slender form disappeared behind the white door, and for the first time, you found yourself breathing again.

Strange now rubbed your back in a slow, soothing motion.

“Well having him hitting on you was definitely not on my bingo card, but I supposed, it means that I am lucky enough to find someone as enticing enough to pique his interest.”

“I think he just wants to hurt you by trying to get on with me,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I can’t blame him for trying…”

You turned and looked up at him, clearly confused by his words. Strange didn’t say anything more, other than pulling you back to join him with the rest of the party.

More questions have arisen. Were you two officially dating now, or was the doctor simply trying to get Loki off of both of your asses. You would never know because, by the time you could even form a coherent thought, you were greeted by the people at the party again.

If only you knew the truth…

.

.

.

.

.

“Am I really your girlfriend?” You asked after sometimes later, when the people started to settle down and mingle in smaller groups. You could still sense Loki’s gaze across the garden as he eyed the two of you.

The question somewhat surprised him. He thought he was being more than obvious and clear when he declared you just as that. Strange was oblivious to the conflict you were battling inside your head.

“I thought that I was being clear earlier.”

His tone was neutral, which made you perceived it as if he was being nonchalant about the whole ordeal. Perhaps it was the wine or perhaps it was Loki who made you question everything that has to do with Strange. Whatever it was, slowly consumed your thought, and you found yourself not wanting to be here anymore.

“Well, under the circumstances that those words were said out loud, I cannot be sure.”

Strange turned and looked at you. Clearly confused.

“If I said yes, does that make you feel better?”

Something about his tone that ticked you off. It was like something in your head snapped.

“It’s not about how I feel, Stephen…I just want to know what’s going on. For all I know, you only said that I’m your girlfriend just to get Loki off our asses…”

“Is that how you think of me?”

He was offended at the fact that you would think of him like this—like some sort of an asshole. I mean, he was like that once upon a time, but he was different now.

“I—I don’t know. It just sounded like that when you came out of nowhere and declare me as your girlfriend. We have never discussed it before. I just—“

“What? Repulse by that idea?”

You opened your mouth then close. Every words that you try to say suddenly get twisted. You weren’t a fan of that at all.

“Do not put words into my mouth,” hurt laced every words of that statement. Even Strange could see the way your eyes were suddenly watered, and the way your jaws were clenched tightly as you stared ahead. “I am trying to understand you, but all you do is avoid answering my questions.”

“Y/N…please just don’t…” he raked his fingers through his hair in a frustration matter.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to humiliate you in front of your friends today…I’ll be here and be pretty like what you paid me to do.”

Strange now really turned and looked at you with exasperated look, yet his mouth wouldn’t open to say anything more. Had he screwed up for not admitting the truth? Was he even good enough to even call you his girlfriend? That, he was really unsure about.

As much as he wanted to blame Loki for this, he knew better that it was him who was the coward in admitting his own feelings.

This was definitely more than he bargained for, alright.

.

.

.

"Brother...You're awfully quiet this evening. Would you mind indulging me in what you are scheming at the moment?"

Loki turned to Thor, who was quite perceptive today. He was more observant than usual, which made him a bit more annoying than anything.

"Something is off between those two, and I am trying to figure it out..."

Thor followed the path of his brother's stare and found that you and Strange barely looked or talk at each other. You had your arms crossed over your chest, barely acknowledging the doctor beside you.

"Careful now. It's not your business," Thro said softly. His voice had always been so deep and rumbly, even if he wasn't trying to sound serious.

"Did he say that she's his girlfriend?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Loki didn't answer.

"Loki...Do not--and I repeat, do not insert yourself in their affair."

The dark hair man smirked in triumph. "I don't know, brother. I just got the best idea around."

Thor raised an eyebrow and waited for Loki to continue.

"How do you feel about roping Doctor Strange to become your CMO for your company?"

Thor had considered the possibility many times before, but Strange had always wanted to work in New York. Moving him all the way to Norway to become the CMO of Odis Therapeutic not only cost them a lot of money but also required a lot of convincing as well. the man just wanted to teach more than anything. Putting him in the C-suite could be the best decision he ever made or the stupidest one..Mainly the man demanded a lot, and he just didn't know if that was worth it or not.

"Why the sudden recommendation?" Thor asked

"I just think we need a brain like him in our company. That's all." He smirked even though he had another plan in mind that involve you in it. "So...What say you?"

Thor chewed on his lips momentarily before chugging the last remnant of his drink.

"It wouldn't hurt to ask him again..."

"Excellent."

A/N: CMO: chief medical officer.

I just thought it would be neat to have Thor as the CEO of a biotech company. Anyway, what do you guys think Loki is scheming? Is he not ready to give up on our reader just yet? Let me know.

[bg-brainrot]

WHaBFHtLA - Astarion x GN!Reader - Chapter 19: The Wizard’s Tower

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence

WC: 9k words, 19/?? chapters

Summary: After traveling through Waterdeep, you and Astarion finally arrive at Gale's tower. Introductions are made, tours are had, and the relationship between yourself and Astarion continues to remain complicated.

A/N: People seem to disagree on whether or not familiars age, but I’m going to go with “no” because Tara is already older than a Tressym’s typical life span in BG3.

Ao3 | [Ch18][Ch20] | WHaBFHtLA Masterlist

Walking through the streets of Waterdeep ought to be faster than this. It should have only taken you an hour to get to Gale's tower, according to Astarion.

However, you're in a new city and every single wonder captures your attention, leading you to stray from your path.

"Astarion, what's that?"

"It's a shop, darling. We have those back in Baldur's Gate."

"I know it’s a shop– gods, you know what I mean!"

Despite his attempts to keep you on track, Astarion doesn’t resist your wanderlust. His hold on your hand remains strong and, with every twist you take, he's being pulled along right behind you. You stop for an odd street stall, finding all manner of knick-knacks. You marvel at a statue, standing grand in the center of a plaza. You pull to an abrupt halt, earning a disapproving grunt from Astarion, when you spot a street performer using magic.

After what must be the tenth detour, Astarion finally tugs back. “Darling, could we please focus? We’ll have time for outings while we’re here, I assure you.”

You look at him, finding his expression to be amused, even if slightly annoyed at you. “We’ll have time to explore the city?” you ask, tentatively. You don’t want to presume that he’ll join you for anything, but the fact that he said ‘we’ gives you hope.

“Yes,” he answers, tugging on your arm once more. “But only if we make it to Gale’s without missing his celebration. Otherwise, we will never hear the end of it.”

“Fine,” you say, allowing Astarion’s hand to pull you in the proper direction. “Though I’ll admit, I’m a bit nervous.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow at you, purses his lips some as he asks, “About meeting Gale? Whatever for?”

You avoid his gaze, focusing on the road ahead of you as you respond, “It’s odd meeting someone you’ve only ever dreamt about. I know so much about you all, but you don’t know me. He may not even recognize me. How do I approach that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Astarion starts. You can sense an incoming joke at your expense, so you brace yourself for his next words. “Maybe something along the lines of ‘You’re the man of my dreams’, that worked wonders on me.”

You wince despite the preparation. “Excuse you, that is not what I said. Besides, I didn’t dream nearly as much about Gale. I don’t think you understand how nervous I was to meet you.”

Looking back up at Astarion, you note that he is focused, staring forward as he leads the way. Despite that, you also spot unabashed satisfaction on his face. His tone is just as self-satisfied as he replies, “I would expect no less.” Then a thought occurs to him and his tone shifts, thoughtful and a bit more reserved as he says, “Though that may have been lingering guilt, I suppose.”

Your reaction is immediate and a bit overdue. “Not at all,” you say, stopping Astarion in his tracks as you pull on his arm. "I didn't come find you out of any type of obligation or guilt. I came to find you for you. I set out before I knew anything other than… than love.”

The vampire is forced to stop, look at you and your serious poise with his full attention. He doesn’t seem to believe you, and it becomes more evident when he says, “I’m sure. Certainly explains why you and my siblings have been such fast friends.”

Astarion continues to walk, yanking you after him a bit more roughly this time. Your voice is a bit breathless as you follow in a rush, “Yes, I’ll admit that after I arrived I– I let myself get a bit carried away.” The man snorts from ahead of you. “But that was never my intention when I left Neverwinter. I just couldn’t get you out of my damned mind. You can ask my parents if you’d like.”

The line of his shoulders seems to relax a bit, but he remains focused on navigating the streets of Waterdeep, ignoring your burning gaze. After a few blocks of silence, he speaks, “What are they like?”

“Who?” Your mind has wandered by now, thinking of how, were it not for Astarion’s initial chilly reception, you may never have met with Dal in the first place. Then deciding that, no, ultimately you would always have found the spawn, one way or another.

“Your parents,” he mumbles, barely audible over the buzz of the city. “What are they like?”

Oh! He’d been so reluctant to learn about you as your own person that the question catches you by surprise. Once you collect yourself, you’re only too excited to answer. Your words come out fast, unfiltered, “Well, they’re both elves, of course. They came to live in Neverwinter after meeting through their trade. It’s how they were able to send me to the best college for the arcane arts in the city. My mother is fairly practical, logical. She didn’t want me to come all the way out here, but, erm, came around to it eventually. I suppose I get my curiosity from my father, but, even so, I think you would quite like him…”

As your words trail off, you realize that Astarion’s slowed down, listening to you. “It’s odd,” he says, turning his head back ever so slightly. A worried crease lines his brow. “I am rather more concerned with what they would think about me.”

The admission leaves you a touch speechless. At first because of the vulnerability in Astarion’s fleeting look– Then because you’re honestly not sure how to answer. It would likely be a lie to say that they would love him. Your mother especially would hold no mercy for a man as mercurial as he is. But you decide that your words need not be so severe, “I think they would grow to adore you.”

“I see,” he mutters, accepting your word choice with as much grace as you suppose he can muster.

How I wish he would meet them, you think. But that’s not something ‘friends’ do, is it? Perhaps he thinks Gale really has a chance to stop me. Given his experience, does he actually have a chance?

You don’t have much more time to consider that question because Astarion pulls to a stop before a grand set of doors. They’re made of wrought iron, engraved in runes and intricate patterns, lined with a shimmer of blue magic. You recognize the runes as teleportation runes, and given the outer facade of the building, easily surmise that this isn’t the exact location of a wizard’s tower, just an entrance.

“Is this…?” you ask.

“It is,” Astarion says, flashing you a smile. You’re not sure what the look on your face is, but he is drinking it in with glee.

It’s just past midday, and you’ve finally arrived at Gale’s doors.

Astarion releases your hand to reach the door. You’d gotten so used to moving as a singular unit, that his sudden absence leaves you a bit off-kilter, as if a part of you is missing. You can't help but flex your hand open and closed a few times to return to yourself, to return to the present.

Once he’s reached the doors, you spot a large iron knocker in the center of them: the head of a tressym in high relief, a ring set between its sharp teeth. Astarion grips the ring, knocks it against the door three times in rapid succession.

A voice comes through the tressym a moment later, and you recognize the Magic Mouth spell. Gale’s voice is cheery, exactly as you’d remembered it from your dreams, as he says, “Welcome to the tower of Archmage Dekarios. To enter, please supply the phrase that he undoubtedly provided you with. Knock thrice more for emergency assistance.”

Astarion shoots you a look, as if to say, ‘see what I must put up with?’ then clears his throat before uttering his phrase, “'For the jubilation of one magnanimous mage, I, Astarion Ancunín, am enchanted to be granted entrance.”

The iron on the doors immediately begins to shift, unlocking whatever mechanism lies behind them. Several loud clunks and thunks later, the massive doors open to a glowing blue portal.

“Does he make you say that every time you visit him?” you ask, barely holding back your laughter.

“Oh no,” Astarion replies, gesturing you forward. “It’s a different damned phrase every year. And it seems to be a torture uniquely reserved for me. Elminster simply gets different types of cheese for his phrases.”

You follow his guiding hands, stepping through the blue portal, feeling the world behind you vanish and shift in hues of blues, not unlike the teleportation circle you used to get here. As soon as your foot touches the ground before you, the inside of Gale’s tower comes into focus.

Immediately, you feel electricity in your veins– the weave is strong here. You could only dream of having your own wizard’s tower, but you know enough about them to know their basic principles. They’re often built on spots where the weave is most highly concentrated. It’s often why they’re crafted in such odd shapes, in such inconvenient locations, and built to such great heights. It’s all in an effort to amplify the magic they’re built upon. 

This tower is no different. You can’t quite tell the shape of the full tower, but the room you’re in is a semi-circle, lined with books and featuring several cozy looking couches. It’s quite possibly one of the loveliest waiting rooms you’ve ever had the chance to be welcomed in. You’re practically entranced and only vaguely register when Astarion asks from your side, “Have I lost you to the books already?”

He might have, if not for the rustling sound coming from behind you. You make an abrupt turn, only to come face to face with the man of the hour himself: Gale Dekarios steps through a set of blue, velvet curtains, wearing a set of purple robes and a gentle smile.

Unlike Halsin, who had hardly changed, only sporting a few new scars and wrinkles, or Astarion, who looks entirely unchanged, Gale looks like a new man. Or rather a very old man.

Where there was once a short, brown beard there is now a lush, wavy white beard in its place, neatly trimmed and manicured to perfection. His previously long, brown hair is white as well, carefully brushed back from his face, giving you a full view of his age-dappled features. Gale’s deep, brown eyes are as sharp as ever, surrounded by a webbing of wrinkles well-worn from a life full of joy. Your heart swells at the sight of him, looking every bit the witty sage from your memories, albeit greyer and a fair bit more lined.

You almost don’t recognize him, save that unmistakable glint in his eyes, the patient smile as he takes you and Astarion in.

Gale is the first to speak, his words aimed for Astarion, but his warm gaze falls entirely on you. “Oho, Astarion! Is this the guest you spoke of? I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised upon receiving your invitation confirmation. A guest, for the first time!”

What? you think in a sudden crack of panic. He didn’t tell him who I am?

You flash a distressed look at Astarion, who is only looking at Gale with annoyance. “Gods Gale, must you make a fuss out of everything?”

“It’s not every day that your oldest and dearest friend finds someone new worth cherishing. I was starting to grow rather fearful that you’d get old and wrinkled in your lonesome.” Gale’s smile is a bit mischievous as he turns away from you, to Astarion’s ire.

The words sound like playful jabs from Gale, but Astarion’s glower only seems to deepen. He looks just about ready to hiss like a cornered cat when you interject, “Not someone new per say. An old flame, actually.”

Astarion turns his glare to you, but it’s Gale who responds, “Phenomenal! Astarion, you sly dog, never giving even the slightest indication. When did you find each other, how long have you two been together? And how do you put up with him?”

You’ve only just entered the tower, and already the vampire looks at his wit’s end. Their friendship had always been entertaining to you when you had the chance to dream of it– they’re opposite in so many ways, alike in so many others. As such, Astarion’s flared nostrils and irritated stance come as no surprise. Neither do his clipped words as he struggles to respond to the wizard’s sudden enthusiasm, “What they meant to say is that they are– Well. They happen to be…”

His lips seem unable to say the words aloud, so you take it upon yourself to help. Stepping forward and standing tall, you look your friend and companion Gale Dekarios in the face and say, “It’s me, Gale.”

You’re not sure what you expect when you say the words. Perhaps a question, ‘who?’, or a confused, concerned look. Maybe even Astarion elbowing you in the side.

However, the wizard before you only takes a single beat. For that moment, he looks at you, with those same, familiar sharp eyes, before recognition settles in.

Then his arms are wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“My friend,” he murmurs into the hug, squeezing you tighter with a pair of ropy arms. “I can’t believe it.”

Your own arms respond in kind, crushing him back with your own youthful vigor. “I know, it’s a lot.” And it truly is– your own heart is pounding in your chest, your eyes are welling up with moisture. Astarion was your lover, but Gale? Gale has only ever been your friend. You’d saved the world together. You’d spent countless nights researching and planning together, spent even more simply enjoying each others’ company. And, unlike when you met with Halsin, you now feel so much more comfortable in your former identity. You feel comfortable claiming this hug for yourself.

Outside of your bubble of joy, you hear Astarion clear his throat pointedly. “While this is all incredibly touching, perhaps we can head into the tower before you both break each other in half?”

Gale releases you, as you do him, and you both turn to shoot daggers at Astarion. “Don’t mind him,” you say to the wizard. “He’s just jealous that it took him the longest to recognize me.”

“Of course,” Gale responds with a hearty chuckle. “Astarion has always been uniquely undiscerning when it comes to you.”

The man in question looks between you, face set in a grimace. “Gods below, I’m having the most unpleasant flashbacks.” You don’t need Detect Thoughts cast to see his thoughts written on his face. Something along the lines of, ‘This was a terrible idea.’

Gale ignores him, turning back to you in utter glee. “We have so much catching up to do!” he says, arms open wide. Then begins one of his customary rambles, “By Mystra’s grace, elves are fascinating. I knew you would reenter the Material Plane, but I had no idea it would happen so quickly. Not to mention, from my studies, elves typically don’t revisit past lives– part of ensuring that your kind continues to progress, I’ve been told. That being said, I am ecstatic that you’ve gone against the grain, my friend–”

You’re enjoying a long-lived human’s perspective on your reborn soul, but Astarion clearly doesn’t share your same sentiment. “Yes, yes,” he says, waving a hand. “Very interesting, I’m sure. However, it’s been a long couple of days, Gale. Could we please focus?” You’re reminded of when he asked you to focus on the way here and can’t help the snicker that leaves you. Astarion points an accusatory finger at you, “And you. Stop encouraging him.”

You hold up your own hands in innocence. “I’m only being a polite guest! Gale, thank you for having us.” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re reminded of your past-self saying the same phrase of thanks every time you and Astarion came to visit.

“It’s my pleasure,” Gale says, his smile widening at the familiar words. “Now, could I interest you both in a drink?”

“We should drop by our lodgings first,” Astarion responds, before you can agree to a drink. “Or do you not want to deposit that enormous pack of yours?”

You blink at the vampire. The pack was growing rather annoyingly heavy, but you, again, hadn’t given much thought to your lodgings. A slight dread begins to build. “Where will we be staying?”

Gale turns around, gesturing for you both to follow. “Why one of the guest rooms, of course!”

One. You try to catch Astarion’s eye as you begin to follow Gale, any amount of his attention, any indication that he’s panicking internally as much as you are. Is he going to be comfortable sharing a room? Will we be sharing a bed?

The man’s face doesn’t react to Gale’s words– in fact, it remains utterly impassive as he says to you, “Don’t worry, darling. Despite his being a senile old man, Tara makes sure the place stays well kept.”

Tara! Gale’s familiar hadn’t appeared in your reveries often, only arriving for a spot of tea or to join you in chiding Gale to settle down. But your memories of her are fond and your question comes with a natural excitement, “Is Tara here?”

Gale takes you up a set of stairs as he responds with a cheerful look back at you, “She is out currently– procuring several items we still need for the celebration. But she should be back in no time. She shall be delighted to see you.”

His words warm you, glad that he’s had someone all these years. Then, remembering your past-self’s insistence and considering no one else showed up to welcome you, you ask Gale, “Did you ever listen to us? Find yourself a partner?”

Based on the way his shoulders hunch a bit, he slows as he continues to climb the stairs, you’re afraid you’ve delved too deep too soon. “Oh yes. Shortly after losing you, I found someone. I’m sorry you never had the chance to meet them.”

Guilt eats at your chest, knowing that he means that ‘sorry’, and wishing that he wouldn’t have to feel any regret. “I’m sorry, Gale, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No need to apologize,” he says, continuing on briskly once more. “It was a lovely experience. But life goes on.”

You can’t help but look at Astarion as Gale says those words, wondering what he made of Gale’s lost love. What he made of Gale’s continuation after the fact. Perhaps, as two beings with lives beyond measure, their friendship evolved beyond trading barbs in the years after your death. Perhaps they could be there for each other, when everyone else passed on.

Astarion’s face betrays nothing as his red eyes meet yours in the dimly lit stairwell. “Darling?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you respond, turning back to Gale to change the subject. “I’ve only dreamt of parts of your tower, Gale. Would you be willing to give me a tour?”

“I would be overjoyed,” he says, climbing over the last step of the stairs. “Once you’ve had a moment to rest, let me know and I shall be right over.”

Following him out of the stairwell, you’re left in the curve of a hallway, several doors lining the outer wall– likely Gale’s guest rooms. “Amazing,” you say, looking left, right, up. “This tower is built in such an intricate way. What type of material did you use to ensure that the weave stayed stable?”

The wizard stops short of the first door and looks back at you. You can feel his appraising gaze, as if just taking in your robes, the spellbook at your hip, the inquisitive gleam in your eyes. “By the outer planes, are you trained in the arcane arts?”

You nod eagerly, your enthusiasm getting the better of you. “I am. I’ll confess, I was looking forward to meeting you as a scholar as well.”

The energy exchanged between you is palpable, and you sense that Gale is about to start on another lengthy diatribe about his tower, when Astarion clicks his tongue. “For the love of all that is unholy, could you two not wait until the tour?”

“Right you are, Astarion,” Gale says, smiling at you all the while. “What a fortuitous calling you’ve found, my friend. I look forward to imparting as much as I can.”

“More like a divinely ironic calling,” Astarion murmurs under his breath, pushing past Gale. “Which room is ours?”

“The third door,” the wizard responds, otherwise ignoring the man as he continues to speak to you. “It’s been a while since he’s been this prickly. He must be glad to be visiting with you again.”

“I can still hear you,” Astarion calls, as he opens the door down the hall.

You ignore Astarion as well as you respond in a quieter voice, “He’s been like that since I arrived on his doorstep. If it weren’t for my dreams of him, I’d have thought he was a prickly pear, not a man.”

The two of you share a laugh together before Gale continues down the hallway. “I apologize for before,” he says. When you only offer him a confused look, he continues, “For when I thought you were a new love of his. I truly should have known better. Astarion would have needed another half dozen centuries to get over you.”

You don’t know what to say to that, but Astarion looks at you both from the doorway to your shared room. His eyes are dark, looking only at Gale, as he says, “That’s enough, Gale. Let us take a moment to unpack.”

Gale reads his friend’s expression with a patience you wish to possess someday. “I shall see you both later for a tour and some tea then?”

“Yes, please,” you reply, entering the room after Astarion. “And, thank you again, Gale.”

“Think nothing of it, my friend.” The wizard leaves you both with one last smile and a small wink, whisking off with the energy of a much younger man.

Now that you’re finally in the room, Astarion lights the lantern by the entrance and closes the door behind you. Looking into the space, you spot an armoire, a changing screen, a pair of armchairs, a couch, and then– just as you’d been afraid of, a single, large bed.

You focus your energy on keeping your voice calm, your breathing steady, even as your heart races. “So,” you start, dropping your pack on the ground and turning to face Astarion. “You didn’t tell him I was coming.”

“I told him I was bringing a guest,” is all that he says back.

“But not who I was?”

“I responded to his invitation weeks ago. It slipped my mind,” he says with a shrug.

The nonchalant look on his face is driving you mad. You’re not sure how this man can make you feel so many different emotions in one day, but by the gods does he manage it. “So you neglected to mention that we weren’t exactly lovers in your letter?” You gesture to the solitary, perfectly fluffed bed.

“Excuse me,” Astarion says, pacing to the armoire to begin unpacking his clothing. “I received enough helpful words from Dal, I didn’t want an entire speech from Gale before even arriving. Besides, it’s sharing a bed, darling. It’s not exactly the erotic act that you’re making it out to be.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” you say, disregarding his words.

“Nonsense, we’re grown elves. We can trance in the same bed without issue,” he says with an eye roll. “And if I’m such a temptation to you, why did you agree to be friends so easily?” he counters, raising an accusatory eyebrow at you. After the weeks you’ve had together, he knows full well that he’s a temptation to you. But if he thinks you’ll give him the satisfaction, then you suppose you know what you must do.

“Fine, the same bed it is. You’re the one who will suffer when I have a bad trance,” you grumble, beginning to take your items out of your pack as well.

Astarion crosses his arms, watching you as you lay out your robes. “I would hardly mind, darling. I tranced next to your past-self for years without issue.”

You suppose it’s true, though you can’t imagine what their trances were like. Your reveries of their life are the most visceral– it’s hard to imagine that they did anything but sleep peacefully. Instead, you ask another question that’s bothering you, aside from the bed, “So what are we supposed to tell Gale? That we’re… friends?”

“Naturally,” Astarion replies, sitting down in an armchair with a content sigh. “He’ll understand. It’s part of living a long life.”

You nod, continuing to unpack in silence, mind filled with thoughts of their long lives. After a few minutes, you ask Astarion another question, “Why didn’t you tell me about Gale’s former love? I might have avoided bringing it up.” Your tone isn’t accusatory, simply filled with a dejected sadness you aren’t able to stifle.

Astarion lifts his head, which had settled back in the armchair’s plush comfort. His words are solemn, honest. “Unlike the rest of our former companions, Gale is still alive. It is his story to tell, if he wishes.”

It makes sense, but you still feel the guilt of hurting him in the pit of your stomach. Not unlike the guilt you felt rehashing Astarion’s past memories. “Can you at least tell me this? How did they die?”

“Old age,” Astarion supplies. “And before you ask, no, they weren’t an elf. They won’t be popping up on his doorstep unannounced like some kind of bookish ghost.”

“He never considered extending their lifespan? There are plenty of–”

“No,” Astarion interrupts, looking at you with tired eyes. “They didn’t want that, and he respected their wishes. An extended life isn’t for the faint hearted.”

You gulp, feeling the guilt bubble up again at the question you inevitably want to ask, once more afraid of hurting Astarion. “And is that how you feel?”

“I don’t know anymore.” His words are quieter, barely loud enough for you to hear, and you can’t read his expression as his head ducks. His head is back up a moment later, a nervous little smile playing on his lips. “Well, if you have much more left to unpack, I actually meant to have a word with Gale. Shall we meet you downstairs?”

“Oh, sure,” you respond, pushing your guilt and curiosity back down. You suspect you already know what he wants to talk to Gale about. “I’ll be down shortly.”

When you do arrive downstairs shortly, neither man is present. I doubt they’ll be done any time soon, you think, beginning to poke around the room. I’ll find something to read while I wait.

That’s how you find yourself perusing through Gale’s carefully curated selection of waiting room books. And sweet hells is it curated well. It’s all you can do to keep from bouncing off the walls.

After picking up and dismissing several books, you settle on one that truly interests you. “Is this a first edition of Elameth's Compendium?” you ask no one in particular, flipping through the pages of a large, red tome. In it, the elven enchanter Elameth details a variety of magical artifacts, how to craft them, and how to dismantle them.

You’re surprised to receive a response as you flip the pages. “Oh my yes. Mr. Dekarios is quite fond of that particular compendium.”

Your head snaps up at a familiar voice, a feminine, unaffected voice, distinctly posh in its lilt. When you turn toward its source, you look down to see a small, cat-like creature peering up at you. “Tara?” you ask.

“I am she, yes,” the small, but proud creature says, tilting her head at you. “And who, may I ask, are you to be rifling through Mr. Dekarios’ books?”

She doesn’t seem mad at you, rather quite curious as her large green eyes inspect you. Will she believe you as easily as Gale did? Her eyes are staring at you so intently that your voice catches a bit as you begin to talk, “I– I am–”

“Ah, I see it now, my dear,” the tressym says, taking a few steps toward you with her feline-like gait. “No need to explain yourself. You’re Mr. Dekarios’ old friend, aren’t you? You look a tad different, but then again, so do most people that have died before.”

You blink, surprised at how little you needed to say for her to recognize you. “Yes, that’s me. How did you know?”

“A lady’s intuition, darling,” she says, lifting her head proudly a bit. “However, you also have that same air about you. Mr. Dekarios will be quite pleased to see you again.”

“We, erm, re-met each other earlier today,” you say, closing the book in your hands and turning to the tressym. “How have you been, Tara?”

“Very well, thank you for asking,” she bows her head a bit in acknowledgement. “You are far more polite than that wicked vampire you call a mate. Thank goodness you’re back, if only for that pale man’s sake.”

You laugh, vaguely recalling some of Astarion’s previous encounters with Tara. They got along about as well as two opposing felines would. “Has he been very difficult without me?”

“Oh yes,” she says, and her wings shuffle a bit in discomfort. “Nigh impossible to deal with. I don’t know how Mr. Dekarios puts up with him.”

You’re about to ask another question when her ears perk up, shoot back. “Well now, it seems like he and Mr. Dekarios are on their way to you. I am still working on preparations for the celebration, so do keep Mr. Dekarios occupied until I have need of him.”

You’d already planned on thoroughly distracting the wizard with questions about his tower and are only too happy to keep the tressym pleased. “Of course, Tara.”

She purrs a hum of approval before turning around. With a “ta-ta, darling” she leaves you waiting for the imminent arrival of Gale and Astarion.

The two arrive from behind the blue, velvet curtain less than a minute later. “Oh hello,” you say, looking at them from over the book you’d reopened.

Astarion looks to be in a better mood, though Gale looks distinctly less happy. It’s Astarion who speaks first, “Hello, darling. Hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long?”

The warmth of his words comes as a bit of a surprise. You look back to Gale, who is smiling at you sadly. I see , you think. Astarion thinks Gale will convince you to leave your project be– that he can grow attached to you now because you won’t be leaving him in the lurch. No matter, you think. This changes nothing for me.

So you respond with the same enthusiasm, “Not at all! I was just looking through the excellent book selection you have, Gale.” You hold up the red tome in your hand and his expression immediately lights up once again.

“Elameth's Compendium! Why, we used that book in your prior life, don’t you remember?” he says, his crow’s feet becoming more pronounced as he smiles.

You shake your head. “Unfortunately not. I didn’t receive every memory. And admittedly…” You look at Astarion who is looking at you rather smugly, knowing exactly what you’d told him multiple times now. The smug look will certainly only get worse with your words, but you also want to discuss your memories with Gale, as the sage and scholar that he is. “Most of my reveries were about Astarion.”

At that, Gale looks between the two of you, a pensive hand stroking his beard. “Fascinating,” is all that he offers.

“Yes,” you agree, ready to provide more information, to receive any and all theories he has about you and your memories. But, of course, the subject of your memories refuses to be excluded for long.

“Maybe if your evenings researching together were less dreadfully dreary you might have dreamt of more of them,” Astarion offers with a flip of his hand. “Now, shall we begin with the tea or the tour?”

The three of you decide to begin with a tour. 

Gale leads the way, his mane of long, white hair guiding your path forward. As a tour guide, he’s clearly well practiced, describing each room in detail, explaining its purpose, and even peppering in the odd anecdote or memory from your past life.

You go through a sauna, heated with fire runes. You walk past his actual library, filled head to toe with books of all kinds. You drop by his study, and its sweet scent of ink trails after you. An astronomy room, a storage room, a dining room, a sitting room– you begin to wonder how tall this tower truly is from its exterior. Gale explains that he’s had to renovate a few dozen times over the years, to ensure that the tower’s magic remains stable. As such, rooms come and go with a few, necessary exceptions.

Even among all of these extraordinary rooms, a few stand out to you, clear gems in the wizard's remarkable living space.

“This is the alchemy room, where I grow plants and create my various concoctions! I’m quite proud to say that you’ll find some plants that grow even on the other side of Faerûn. I’ve created many an interesting tonic– I’d exercise some caution if you find yourself in here. Why one time…” He trails off into a story about how Tara turned purple for a week. She was not amused, apparently.

“And this is the experimentation room, where I bring anything that may be dangerous to test. There are a variety of different materials for me to test spells and artifacts on, and the room is warded with a wide assortment of protection wards to make sure that the rest of the tower is unaffected. It certainly is helpful when it comes to any errant magic, wouldn’t you say Astarion?” The look Astarion shoots him is that of a man who has seen one too many Fireballs in his life.

“Now this is the enchanting room, where I create magical artifacts. Now this includes your customary garden-variety fare, but I do have the opportunity to create a few rarer objects, such as the sunlight rings that I craft for the spawn. You'll find that I boast all types of spell components and even have a few specialized work benches, infused with various magical properties.”

You want to stay in this room for hours, you want to look through each and every book, peruse the shelves, test out the recipes that are strewn about the place. But you hold back, merely asking Gale a few questions about where he sources his materials, whether or not he had a bench for each school of magic, and how long it took to create a sunlight ring.

Easier questions answered, you eventually ask him, “Is this where we worked on our ring designs together?”

Gale takes a quick glance at Astarion before nodding. “Yes, precisely. That’s exactly the type of thing we used to work on.”

You elect to ignore his word choice, pressing on, “I had a dream about that just last night. We’d settled on a ring made of silver, it had slotting for an inlay along its edge.”

Recognition passes over Gale’s eyes before he bows his head wearily. “One of the last times we spoke. That was our most promising candidate.”

You already know that much. Despite the way Astarion’s eyes tighten around the corners, the way that Gale’s sadness creases his mouth around his beard, you continue, “I had an idea I would love to speak to you about. Would you have time before your birthday festivities?”

The wizard’s head lifts back up, the sadness reaching his eyes now. “I think it’s best if we leave that part of our past behind us, wouldn’t you say?”

Luckily, you’d prepared for such a response, expecting it. From your memories, from understanding who he is, what Astarion might have said to him, you think you know just what to say. “I wouldn’t. At least, not until I figure out one last thing. I have memories of the necromancer’s notes. Untouched, unbloodied, but undeciphered. I just need someone to delve into my mind and pull them out. If it amounts to nothing, well, maybe I could move on. But a wizard once told me, my intuition has rarely led us astray.”

Neither of your companions say anything to this, but you can tell see the wheels turning in Gale’s mind. He’d tried, just as you had, to remove the blood from the notes. He’d attempted, just as you had, to decipher what was left. Here you were, offering him the key to a century and a half’s mystery. He’d be remiss to not take you up on it. 

Astarion, for his part, is simply looking at you. His red eyes seem to glow in the enchanting room’s magical lighting. You wonder if he believes you, that this will be your final attempt to try, that you would leave it be if it amounted to nothing.

I just know it will amount to something though, you think to yourself. I refuse to let it lead nowhere, not when I feel so close.

Gale interrupts your thoughts. “Well, I shall have a think on it and let you know later. For now, let me show you both to our last stop: the kitchen! Where we can also enjoy a lovely, little morsel and a cup or two of tea.”

Musings pushed aside for now, the three of you head to the kitchens for a late lunch. With all of Gale’s commentary, Astarion’s snarky interjections, and your own questions, the tour ended up being quite a few hours. You’re ravenous by the time the tea kettle rings and Gale shuffles about his kitchen preparing an afternoon meal for you all.

“Do you need any help, Gale?” you ask, scooting your chair back, ready to get up and join the wizard as he flits back and forth.

“No need, my friend. You are a guest after all,” he assures you, with a wave. A blue, spectral hand floats behind him, opening and closing doors for him as he artfully arranges what seems to be a hearty assortment of various meats and cheeses. “I may have aged a touch, but I assure you that I am every bit the gourmet chef I have always been.”

“Right,” Astarion mutters under his breath. “Every bit as capable of giving an entire adventuring party food poisoning.”

You chuckle at Astarion’s comment, only to recall that Astarion hasn’t had a real basis for Gale’s food since his early days of pretending not to be a vampire. Since then, his main diet has consisted of blood and wine, which you haven’t seen him partake in in over a week. “Aren’t you hungry?” you whisper to the man, leaning over to him in the event that Gale shouldn’t overhear.

His red eyes meet yours, and, as always, you can see the underlying hunger in them. It’s fruitless to ask, you realize. He’ll always be hungry. 

“I’m managing. Don’t you worry about me– Focus on getting your noisy stomach to quiet down.” He shoots you a wry smile, but you can’t help but worry regardless.

“Fine, but once that’s quieted, I will be bothering you again,” you say, pointing a finger at him menacingly.

“What’s this about noisy stomachs?” Gale asks, walking over with a plate stacked full of meats, cheeses, smears, breads, and assorted fruits. Far too much food for the two of you who could eat it– Perhaps more than would feed you for a week. “Why, I have just the remedy.”

The three of you, well Gale and yourself, enjoy the feast he’s prepared for you, chattering all the while about the various things you’ve seen in his tower, what he’s gotten up to in the last hundred and fifty years, and your life back in Neverwinter. You’re surprised when even Astarion chimes in with his own questions about your current life.

You learn about Gale’s latest research. They learn about your time at the arcane college in Neverwinter. Collectively, you reminisce about times that you’ve only witnessed through dreams. 

Together you have a pleasant afternoon, one that quickly turns into evening as you continue to chat. The entire conversation and atmosphere bring about a warmth you’d missed in your ‘normal’ life. Seated at Gale’s round kitchen table like this, you can almost pretend that this is your life. Perhaps it is now.

It’s only after a small “Ahem, ahem” interrupts Gale’s latest recounting of a particularly explosive application of the Weave that you all realize how late it’s gotten. “Mr. Dekarios, I’m glad that you and your friend have gotten reacquainted, but I am afraid I require your assistance in the dining room.”

“Tara! Of course, I shall pop right on over.” Gale turns to you and Astarion, smiling at you both in turn. “Well, my friends. It seems I’m needed for the party preparations. I hope you don’t mind my absence.”

“Not at all, Gale,” you respond, bowing your head in acknowledgement. “Hosting is plenty of work without my showing up here unaccounted for.”

“Nonsense!” Gale cries, standing up from his chair with a few creaking bones. “Why this may be the best birthday present I’ve ever received.”

His words sound so genuine, his smile so sincere, that you nearly miss what he’s said. A birthday present. Oh gods, I need to get him a present. “Say, Gale,” you say, catching his attention before he leaves. “When is the party proper?”

“Oh, right.” He gives a lighthearted chuckle, looking at Astarion as he does so. “You’ll forgive me for the befuddling schedule– it’s the only way I can ensure Astarion actually shows up on time. You know how he likes to avoid people.”

“Not to worry, I understand.” You snicker, only to earn an indignant elbow from Astarion. 

Gale looks between you two knowingly, and you feel your face flush under his sympathetic eyes. “Well, let’s see…” The man begins a countdown on his fingers. “Including tonight, the party is in five nights.”

“Oh!” you breath out, surprised. Plenty of time to explore the city, to hopefully speak to Gale, and, most importantly, acquire a present for him. “Sounds lovely. Thank you, Gale.”

“My pleasure,” he says. “I shall see you two on the morrow then.” Gale gives you both one last wink before following Tara out of the kitchen.

That’s how you and Astarion are left alone once more. The silence that settles between you is all at once easy and yet deeply uncomfortable. You want to fill it with something, but what can you say? That you know he wants Gale to dissuade you from your goals? That you haven’t known a peace like this in your entire lifetime and you’re afraid it isn’t meant to be yours?

Whatever it is, you need to say something, to fill the silence. You turn toward him in your seat and begin, “Astarion–”

“Darling, I–”

You both stop before you start, realizing that you’re interrupting each other. You’re the first to collect your bearings. “Go ahead, Astarion.”

He smiles at you and the tenderness in his eyes is difficult to miss, catching you off guard. “I just wanted to thank you.” When you only offer him a puzzled look, he elaborates, “For coming with me. I know it was a bit of a gamble for you after, well, everything. But this is already proving to be more… tolerable, than most years.”

His words spark a tingle in your chest, cause a warmth to bloom on your cheeks. It’s a compliment of sorts, and one that you weren’t expecting to receive. Given his sullen attitude and snarky comments, you’d expected a half-sarcastic, ‘This has been riveting.’

But the man never fails to surprise you. So you’re left speechless, nodding at his thanks, unsure of how to accept them.

“Now, what had you wanted to say, darling?” he asks, expression back in a confident mask, as if his words hadn’t just blanketed you in a deluge of emotions.

What had you meant to say? Right. You had wanted to fill in the silence, which seems almost banal in the wake of his sincere thanks. You comb through your own thoughts as quickly as you can, trying to find a reason to speak, to answer his expectant gaze.

“Would you like some blood?”

He blinks at you and you blink back, as if neither of you had expected you to say this. His response comes a moment later, a bit guarded, “I suppose I could use a snack. But with all of the day’s travel and your rather delicate constitution, are we sure that’s the best idea, darling?”

It may not have been your first or most pressing thought, but now that you’ve said it, you realize that feeding him is still quite important to you. So you press on. “I’ll be fine. It’s plenty late and I’ll be able to sleep off any ill effects,” you assure him.

“In that case, perhaps we first head back to our room? That way I won’t have to carry your limp body up several flights of stairs.” His use of ‘our’, his quick acceptance of your offer, it all feels so surreal. Maybe that’s what friendship means to him, but it’s sending you and your body mixed signals.

Either way, you agree without argument, and you both head back to your shared quarters.

Once you’re standing in the center of the room, you ask, “Where would you like me?” 

Astarion raises a suggestive eyebrow at you. “Oh, you absolute fiend. Here I was, thinking that a bite on the wrist was already quite intimate.”

“Astarion,” you chide, ignoring the way his low, sultry voice sets your skin alight. “I meant, would you prefer the bed, the couch, maybe a chair?”

“How dull, darling. The bed then,” he says, gesturing toward the yet untouched plush, blue bedding. 

You follow his direction and sit on the bed. After taking a quick breath, you get to work, rolling up the sleeve of your robe for him and exposing the tender flesh of your wrist to him. “Here you are,” you say, holding out your wrist to him as he takes a spot next to you.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, taking hold of your wrist, angling it back and forth between his cold fingers, as if trying to find just the right spot to bite.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, after the third rotation.

“It’s nothing, dear,” he says, fingers trailing the line of veins extending from your wrist. With his soft touch shocking your brain into submission, you barely register his words as he continues, “I was thinking, perhaps, I might need to bite a bit more carefully to keep you from growing faint again. I’m afraid I had rather gotten used to biting that delectable neck in your past-life.”

You gulp and you’re certain that the sound is audible to you both. “Is that so? Would you… prefer a neck?”

“Don’t you worry your lovely little head, darling,” he says, bending his head over your wrist. “I shall manage.”

You’re about to protest, to insist that he’s allowed to bite your neck, even as your heart pounds brutally in your chest at the thought– but his fangs sink in before a word can escape your lips and you’re left huffing out a small sigh.

Astarion’s lips smile against your wrist, and, were it not for the kind consideration he’d just shown you, you may have smacked him on his beautiful silver head for it.

Much like the previous times he’s had a nibble, his seemingly involuntary hums are more the source of your lightheadedness than anything else. The deep rumble that sounds from his chest sends your heart into a frenzied rhythm that your blood just can’t appear to keep up with.

Calm down, you think, imagining images of still water, light breezes, soft cats. Calm down or you will fall back again. Nothing seems to be working to quiet your pounding heart and, as you look at the angle of his nose, the soft curve of his cheek, you can feel your breath catching, your vision blurring.

No, you repeat to yourself. He will starve himself if it means you don’t get injured, keep yourself together. You’re startled by how accurate the thought sounds to your own mind. You knew he cared about you, but had you ever really sat down and understood the depth of it? However, you don’t have time to think about the implications of his concern because your world is beginning to spin.

Breathe, you command of yourself. You take a deep breath. 

Another, you think, and you feel your eyes start to focus as fresh air enters your body. 

Two large breaths later and you’re feeling significantly better– your heart is still racing, but the room has stilled and your body feels your own again. Just in time too, as you feel Astarion take one last drink from your veins, remove his fangs, and breathe a sigh of bliss onto your skin. 

When he pulls back to look at you, the flush on his face, the pink on his ears is still somehow worth the miserable feeling of blood loss. “So darling,” he says, licking his blood-stained lips. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine,” you say, smiling at him with the best, least exhausted grin you can manage. Certainly better than you have after your previous feedings. “Though I do think it is your fault that I feel faint sometimes.”

“Really?” Astarion asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Well,” you start, not sure how to approach the issue with him, but needing to tell him all the same. “I think it’s the noises you make while you feed. My heart just, erm, panics a bit.”

Astarion looks at you with a blank expression. “Noises?”

Ah, so they are involuntary. “Yes, the mmm’s and the hmm’s and the–”

“Stop that.” Astarion raises a hand up to your face, placing it over your mouth. When you look toward him to see what could be the matter, you see that a blush covers his cheeks, that the tips of his ears have turned a deep red. “I– I thought I’d stopped doing that years ago.”

It’s as if time stills. You struggle with your confused, nervous thoughts as you register his embarrassment, the words he’s said.

Astarion is blushing, your brain thinks.

Of course, the rational part of you counters. He’s just fed, he’s going to have some blood in his system for a while.

But he’s blushing because of something I said, you supply.

Your mind goes blank at the thought.

You’re grateful that you can’t reply to Astarion, not with his hand over your mouth, because you’re not certain what is liable to come out of it at the moment. 

Luckily, Astarion continues to speak, not releasing your face, “Well, I apologize for the noises. I’ll try to control that. In the meanwhile, why don’t we get ready for bed? It’s been a long day.”

You nod into his hand, after which he removes it from your mouth. His face continues to have a touch of pink, and his eyes refuse to meet yours. You can hardly be bothered by it, because the only things running in circles in your mind are the feel of Astarion’s hand on your face, the sight of his perfectly blushed cheeks, and the fact that, somehow, despite everything, he still cares about your well-being.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You end up having to take a quick bath to clear your mind, and you both get ready for bed separately. However, at the end of the day, you both wind up in the same, immense bed after all is said and done.

You thought that maybe something big would happen. Perhaps that he would recoil from you. Or worse, grab onto you. Maybe that the earth would open up and swallow you both. But nothing of the sort happens.

You both simply lay down, tuck yourselves in a variety of soft blankets, rest your heads on the best down pillows magic can conjure, and remain several feet apart on the massive bed.

Much like last night, Astarion puts out the lantern next to the bed and whispers to you, “Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

There’s simply no way that your reverie will take you tonight, of that you’re sure. You’re convinced of it, because all you can hear is the pounding of your heart, the muffled breath you take when you try to be quiet. But eventually, against all odds, your trance does overtake you.

That night as you enter your reverie, you blink your eyes open to a familiar inn.

Again, the establishment is dead, not a soul in sight in this remote village. And, as always, the innkeep reaches down into their front desk, pulling out another book.

It looks to be a book that they’ve already started– a bookmark is placed about halfway through its pages. The cover is mostly plain, a black leather with a large tower embossed in the center. In the smallest script you catch the title before they open the book, “The Midnight Tower and its Master.”

The innkeep flips open to their current page and begins to read… 

When you wake up from your reverie a few hours later, you sit up with a gasp, a hand clutching at your chest in surprise.

Next to you, Astarion stirs, looking at you with a drowsy concern. “Darling, are you alright?”

“I–I’m fine,” you say, taking several deep breaths. “I dreamt of the tower.”

[rnn11203]

Stardew valley, some headcanons and just thinking about things, thoughts? Opinions? Your own ideas? I would love to talk abt stardew valley w anyone even if its just abt ur farmer (PLEASE IM BEGGING I NEED IT)(i mean whahhatttt… no im so cool and very chill..)

Anyways

thinking about Abigail and Sebastian’s relationship.. or lack their of? Anyways, i always thought it was really interesting that we only really get 1 line of dialogue with Sebastian hinting at the “crush” on Abigail. The flower festival is the only time Sebastian himself vaguely hints at liking her, “i want to dance with someone (abigail).” Or something along the lines of that and honestly? I just think everyone else DOESNT like him except for Sam and her….. both Sam and Maru hint at Sebastian liking her in their dialogue tho, and Abigail herself mentions liking him ie mentioning being close friends (although he doesn’t share the same sentiment? Only stating Sam and yourself as a friend).. PERSONALLY.. in MY opinion, i like to think that he doesn’t really like her, i understand that she hangs out in his room but also? He literally tells you that she doesn’t seem to value his time bc she interrupts his work. I really like to think that Sam and Maru, and everyone else in the valley likes to gossip and pair both her and him together because of their alternative fashion. Abigail is really friendly, outgoing, loves adventure, shes extroverted, whereas Sebastian is socially awkward, prefers being alone, and likes staying in his room. I like to view Abigail as younger than both Sam and Sebastian, around 18yrs while sam is 19 and Sebastian is 22-23. I view them as these ages bc:

Abigail: Seems to be starting college, maybe already completed a semester by the time the farmer arrives, bickers with her parents in a more youthful way, ie Caroline’s lines about her dyed hair and fashion sense. Her sense of adventure to me seems to stem from a new independence from her parents (turning 18). (Side note but i prefer to think that Pierre IS Abigail’s dad and not the wizard… instead… i like to think Jodi started that rumor)

Sam: the whole dropping egg, skateboarding, and kissing under the covers reeks of a 16yr old, but to me hes just an immature 19yr old. I imagine Jodi spoiled him because his dad wasnt around a lot but as he gets older he realizes the toll it takes on her, and to me ive always seen Sam as genuinely friendly and kind and i kinda think his behavior in these cutscenes are just bc he doesn’t want to give Jodi a hard time. He’s afraid of disappointing her and thats why the egg and blanket scenes happen the way they do.

Sebastian: Free lancer job, motorcycle owning, weed smoking, and overall he just seems like the most mature in the group. He has his moments with his mom, maru, and Demetrius but i think it’s just bc of how tense he feels with them.

Also i kinda think the reason he wanted her in the band was so he didnt have to talk to Sam that much,,

But anyways, i do like to think that Abby’s gotta a crush but its more of the “idea” of Sebastian, i like to think she’ll fantasize about him asking her to ride on the motorcycle with him and go on this grand adventure and meet a lot of people and do a lot of things, in fact i like to think that her going to his room is a new thing too! And thats why he seems “suddenly” irritated by it and neither of them mention that they aren’t that close anymore. I also like to think shes more of a new addition to their duo too, which is why she doesn’t play pool and because of Pierre’s shop, either he or Caroline mention the Yoba church being “already there” before they moved in. I think Sam and Sebastian moved to stardew when they were very little (3-4) (implied by dialogue as sam mentions Kent use to be a garbage man in Zuzu city, and i think Sebastian was born BEFORE robin built the house and maru after.)(hence why Sebastian lives in the basement) i think Abigail moved when she was around 7-8. (I think Caroline is a pelican town native tho! And just moved back)

Not an Abigail hate post btw.. i like her, but i think this is more interesting than them just having a crush on each other, i just think her liking the idea of him and him well.. i just dont think anyone really likes him bc they think hes weird T_T!!

[nottawriter]

Fanfic Writer Questions!

Thanks for the tag, @fazedlight and @thatonebirdwrites

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 16

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

356,960

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Supergirl – Arrowverse/ DC Comics: Primarily Supercorp, secondarily Dansen, Brainia, and J’M’zz, and I have one AgentReign with secondary Supercorp.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

PRIDE and Prejudice – Super gay retelling of Jane Austen’s classic. Every kudos equals $1.00US to a LGBTQIA2S charity I make at the conclusion of Pride month (June) each year (teen)

Tell Me It’s Not Too Late – Post-S4, Lillian believes Supergirl is responsible for Lex’s death. Lena rushes to J’onn’s for game night, to confront Kara on her identity, only to find she’s nowhere to be found (teen)

I Believe in a Thing Called Love – Full alternate Season 6 rewrite (teen)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice – 50 First Dates movie AU (teen)

How Lost We Are – Lena is placed by her Witness Protection team (Maggie, Kelly, and Lucy) in Midvale as a flower shop owner where she meets teacher Kara and coffee/bookshop owner Jess, among others (mature)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I do usually respond, though not always right away. I enjoy chatting about my fics, so don’t hesitate to ask questions, but I don’t give out spoilers though.  

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

When She’s Gone, the Darkness Comes – Oof. It was so sad I had to write a second chapter. I much prefer happy endings (teen)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them have a happy ending of some kind, or they will once they’re completed. Though there are some with happy endings like Speak Now and Tis the Damn Season. Smut. I’m talking about smut (explicit)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, though I’ve been mostly lucky. I don’t know why people leave hate on any fics really. If you don’t like something, close the tab.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. It started as a small scene here or there when it was a natural progression of the fic, but now I occasionally right full smut fics and pwp like those found here (explicit)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Kind of, but the characters are all from within the Arrowverse/ DC Comics universes somewhere.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I don't understand why someone would do this. Please respect writers.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. I Believe in a Thing Called Love is also in Spanish Creo en una cosa llamada amor (teen)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I’m currently working on one with @thatonebirdwrites, though it's not published. It’s a Supercorp fic where Kara is a building inspector and when she goes to inspect Lena’s home, she meets Lena’s daughter to tells her the floor is lava, so naturally Kara has to ensure that issue gets resolved.  

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Supercorp. But I do love most wlw ships

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I intent to finish all of my active WIPs. I have some WIP ideas that may or may not ever get going, but once I start a fic, I intend to finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no idea… I guess easter egg type stuff or like blending canon into storylines. If your a reader and there's something you think is a strength I have, let me know.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually writing. Words be hard. And it's hard to find the time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I do it sometimes, probably not well. I like to include the translation in the fic (unless the characters themselves aren’t supposed to understand until later). But I'm sure the translations aren't fully right as I only use google translate and the Kryptonian dictionary.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supercorp. I started writing fiction in Dec 2020. Before that it was all scientific research papers for uni.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I suppose What Has Been Lost (Mature). It was what started this crazy adventure, has been the most challenging piece, and my longest (still ongoing). It truly blends lore and characters from across the Arrowverse and DC Comics into a human world and original storyline.

For Tags, if you'd like to participate: @fyonahmacnally @casualsavant @luthordamnvers @itsalliebitheway @innamorament0

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions 9: Not Your Red-Lipped Doll

Pairing: Dave York X F! Reader (Original Female Character)

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Word count: 2906

Summary: Firefly has some time to contemplate about her feelings about seeing Dave with Carol and Alice, bringing closer to understanding more about who she is and who she always has been. Where will this leave her and Dave?

Warning: TRIGGER WARNINGS for this one---this has some real dubious consent. I do not want this to upset anyone, so please, please, keep that in mind. If you haven't been able to tell by now, the characters are not well adjusted and have gone through some shit, so this shouldn't be a model for a relationship. Infidelity, almost stalking like behavior, spit as lube (probably not sanitary), PiV sex - wrap it up lovahs, creampie, degrading behavior, and ANGST. Once again please DNI if you are not 18 and over. Also not beta'd, so all errors are my own. Please be kind.

A/N: I'm so grateful for everyone who is loving and following this series. I hope that you continue to stick with me and comment and reblog.

Gratitude to every single one of the mazing ladies with whom I share this whore home, I adore you with my whole heart. Thank you for work shopping this with me. Love you.

@legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @magpiepillsjunior @imalrightllama @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen @pink-whiskey-woman @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @for-a-longlongtime

Taglist: @sheepdogchick3 @nerdieforpedro @casa-boiardi @missladym1981 @untamedheart81

If I missed anyone let me know I forget constantly if I don't write it down. I probably need a system.

You knew he’d be angry. It was understandable. One day passed and you didn’t dare hope for or expect a call. The second day you wondered if he would make the attempt, but you weren’t surprised when nothing came. The overthinking came next. Was the line you had crossed so wide that you could no longer cross it together? Maybe if you agreed to everything he asked, never talked about it anymore, he’d come back? Or maybe you were just overthinking it and you just needed to let it go. 

Diving headfirst into work was the only way for you to cope. With focused intent, you typed away on your keyboard, opened various programs, analyzing, and interpreting different data sets sent to you. A distraction free intensity took over your head as you checked off item after item on your to do list. The eyes that peered at you as they passed your cubicle barely phased you as they watched in a combination of admiration and apprehension at your productivity. 

The tips of your fingers numbed from the consistent typing and clicking of your computer mouse. You pushed out a hot, puff of frustrated air from your lips and your eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the screen. The click, click, click of your nails against your desk echoed in your ears until your focus was interrupted by the loud sound of your desk phone.  

“Hello?” you answered, a hint of surprise at the edge of your voice. 

The polite, gentle register of the receptionist’s voice traveled from the phone to your ear.  

“You have someone here to see you.” 

A tightness grabbed hold of your chest, pulling a gasp from you. 

It couldn’t be…he wouldn’t. 

Your mind wanted to hold hope for your delusion, while every vein pumped with the truth that it wasn’t Dave. Each beat of your heart knew, but neither your head nor could be prepared for who came to you next. 

“Who is it?” you sighed. 

“Um…it’s Mr. Heatherington, it’s---,” she replied, hesitation hiding in her voice. 

“Brad’s father?” 

A feeling of nervous confusion coursed through you as you wondered why he would be coming to see you. You reminded yourself that turning him away and moving on completely would raise nothing but suspicion. Seeking comfort from someone with a shared trauma was normal, expected even. 

“Yeah, he wants to see if you’re free for lunch.” 

The information forced you to suck in a cold breath of air. 

“Yes, yes,” you nodded over the phone even though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Of course, yes, I’ll be right down.”

The quiet image of him waiting in the front lobby had you trembling. The slope of his shoulders was nearly identical to his son’s. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his pressed khaki pants. His waist was slim and widened a few inches at the hips. His head bowed down in a quiet trance as he waited for you. His golden hair was styled with more gel than was necessary, just like his son's, just like Brad’s. When he turned to look at you, it sent a flood of memories to your head, nearly making you stumble as your stomach churned with nausea. The slope of shoulders. The boxy waist. One wrong turn of your head and Brad was standing before you.

“Mr. Heatherington, hi,” you greeted, taking an apprehensive step forward. 

His arms were outstretched towards you, gesturing you to him for an embrace. 

Do it or he’ll be suspicious, your mind told you as it pressed you forward. 

“Oh, come on, no need for such formalities,” he said, beckoning you with a wave of his hands. “Martin, or Marty is fine, sweetheart.” 

A lump of disgust lodged itself in the back of your throat as you mustered up the gall to present him with something mildly resembling a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing them up and down your back. It had you shaking, bringing you back to staring at his son’s body in the dark and Dave standing ominously over you as tears stung the corners of your eyes. 

“It’s good to see you, Martin,” you lied as you peeled yourself away from him. 

He walked next to you without a word, the silent void between you louder than the noise of the crowd around you. Walking next to him, you knew you should feel guilty about the part. Pity? He didn’t deserve it. Fear? You could take him down in a beat. Disgust? That was a no brainer. It was easy enough to get lost on this train of thought. So lost that you hadn’t even realized that you had arrived at a nearby deli. 

The lunch crowd was barely a trickle when you walked in. Your path to the counter was clear and quick as was your order of pastrami on rye. After Martin ordered his sandwich, he gestured towards a booth to the left of the counter. He sat across from you and set his elbows on the table before clasping his hands together. 

“So how are you doing, kid?” His voice came out in the sigh like he was a battered soldier checking on another soldier in his battalion. 

Caring and sympathy. They weren’t on your bingo cards for today. Fate apparently liked to fuck around with you. Brazenly, you decided to meet her where she was. 

“I’m---I’m,” you hesitated with your confession, “I’ve been better.” 

He reached for your hand, noticing you flinch as he took it. The blonde of his brows wrinkled at their center as he looked at you, pathetically assuming you were feeling the same thing he was feeling. Feeling them about the same person he was. As tears began to water his eyes, you squeezed his hand remembering what was throwing your existence into an imbalance. Not his son. Not his absence, but Dave’s. 

“I understand,” Brad’s father took a deep inhale through his nose. 

One that puffed up his chest. You swore that you could feel the hot air that came from his lips as he exhaled. 

“He wouldn’t want you to be sad,” his father murmured as he looked out the window. “My boy…he had so many plans! He was ready to treat you like a princess.” 

The corners of your lips tightened at the words. How was it possible that everything you didn’t want in a relationship was just captured in one sentence? It lingered as he squeezed your hands in his. 

“My headspace hasn’t been the same, Martin,” the quivering confession that left your lips was followed by a flood of emotions. 

The anxious bounce of your knees reverberated through your entire body as you struggled to hold your emotions in. The feelings nearly gave way to tears as he held you hostage with his gaze. 

“I’ve watched you,” the words sounded almost like a threat, taunting your fight-or-flight response into high gear. “I see you now and you haven’t even let yourself grieve.”

A breath rushed through you from the depths of your lungs. A cool droplet began to seep from the corner of your eyes, softly caressing the curve of your face. The look of sadness and pity that wafted from his repugnant face left your entire body shaking with a wellspring of bubbling anger and frustration.

“How do you do it?” you questioned through tear-blurred vision. “How are you doing it?”

You watched closely as Martin crossed his hands over his chest and pushed his back into the back of the chair. His face hardened and the lines around his mouth drew deeper into his face as his lips turned downward to form a frown. Observation. Data analysis. Reading between the lines. You couldn’t separate yourself from these skills and like any good analyst you studied him as he looked out the window. 

“I try to continue in his memory,” he replied, snuffing in a sharp breath. “To live every aspect of my life as boldly and unapologetically because he can’t.”

Live life boldly and unapologetically?

A light laugh burst from your belly as you shook your head in disbelief. You never thought you’d agree with something Brad’s father suggested. But then again, even dying lights show flickers of brightness before burning out. 

“I think he would have expected nothing less from the both of us,” he said, letting out another sigh. “He could have given you the world.”

“Sometimes the world is not enough,” an invisible knot threatened to lodge itself in your throat as you let the words leave you. 

“Still a pretty good consolation prize.”

A weak smile. That was all the reaction you could give to him. Both of you recognized 

the moment as a natural stopping point. He gave you another hug, kissing both of your cheeks.

The deliberately slow way he moved to offer you this affection sent a chill up and down your shoulders and made every hair on your body stand on end. Even as he walked away, the underlying urge to get away from him stayed just beneath your skin. 

***

The weight of your productivity sat heavily on your shoulders with each slow step you took towards your front door. You ascended the three steps to your arched door pushing the key in only to find it unlocked. With a quick turn of your keychain, you held it at the ready, your thumb and pointer finger pulling at and rubbing against a taught deceptively thin black cord hidden inside. It was a cord that, when pulled hard enough, could strangle the burliest man. 

A light tap of your foot to the door was enough to push it open. A blue-gray light filled the room with early evening shadows. Each step you took forward was firm and unwavering. Any intruder's underestimation of you would be their downfall. In the shadows of the armchair that rested in your living room a figure sat, his legs spread out wide to the edges of your chair. There was no mistaking the large hands that rubbed against the wrinkles of his slacks. 

“You’re home late.” 

“Dave?” 

The very presence of him, the gravel in his voice, the heat that emanated from his body reached out to you, stealing your breath. You set your keys at a table near your front door. With your hands at your hips, you moved towards the kitchen, moving past the chair where he sat. Too much trouble to give him even a passing glance. He jolted towards you, holding you back at your waist.  

“No phone call to let me know you’d be late,” he seethed. “No dinner on the table. Not even a drink waiting for me.” 

“Seriously, Dave?” you groaned and rolled your eyes as you tried to push past him again. 

“Stop playing, this is what you want, isn’t it?” He taunted you. “A domestic dream. A man coming home to you every night? A sensible fuck?”

“Dave, come on,” you asserted, full of enough bullshit for the day. “I just got home.” 

He pulled you close, digging his fingers into your hips and pressing his hard cock into your pelvis. 

“Take off your clothes.”

“Just give me a minute to---,”

“I said ‘take off your clothes’.” 

He rocked into you again, his eyes demanding your clothes to come off. It had been so long since you last had him, and you swore you felt your desperation for him coming out of you like waves of radiation. But he needed to know there were times when he was wrong. This time you moved past him to your bedroom. 

With a brisk walk he followed you, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow. His hands gripped your arms, spinning you around to face him. His hands maneuvered down to your waist slowly unbuttoning each button of your blush-colored blouse.

“Come on, baby,” he tempted with greedy lips as he pulled your shirt from the high waist of your skirt. “I’ve had such a hard day at work, and I need to fuck; it won’t take long, I promise.” 

He shoved you to the bed. The loud clinking of his belt buckle reached you as his hands pulled the leather from the belt loops of his trousers. He discarded his clothes into a haphazard pile on the floor before simultaneously pulling your skirt and underwear from your body. 

“Dave why are you---,” you moaned out breathlessly as he held your hands over your head. 

The use of words was temporarily obsolete as Dave forcefully pushed your legs apart. A dart of spit left his lips settling onto your pussy. As he pressed and strummed his fingers on your folds where he left his mark. It had you squirming and arching your back against his touch. There was no denying how much your body blazed and ached for him. The mattress shifted with each slow press of the mattress he gave with his hands and knees. Soon he was lined up at your entrance and with a push of his knee on your thigh he rocked his pulsing cock deep into your folds. 

He braced his arms at your sides and held his face close to yours with each deep roll of his pelvis into yours. Too many long days had passed since you last had him, and you could do nothing but let go and feel the thickness of him as he moved in and out. Each ridge and vein slid against tight folds with each push and gyration he made within you. The walls of your dark room trapped every slap of skin, every heavy breath, and every whimper that both of you set free. 

Each thrust into you became more erratic, urgent, deeper, and harder. Absent were the spanking, the dirty words, the hair pulling, and every other depraved thing you did in worship of each other’s body. With his face held so close to yours, you felt each breath he took quicken on your skin. You swore you could feel him straining against the desire to bite you or call you his whore.

In the quiet pleasure a conflict rose within you, feeling close in ways that words couldn’t express, but deprived of the darkness you loved to share with one another. His hands twisted the sheets and as you dug into the flesh of his back, he filled you. With one push off you, he sat at the edge of your bed for a few moments before standing up and making his way to your bathroom to clean himself. Barely even able to catch your breath, he returned pulling up his boxer briefs and pulling his undershirt over his head. 

“To clean yourself up,” he said as he tossed a washcloth on the bed next to you.

You pushed past him to clean yourself in your bathroom. When you returned, you found him already buttoning up the last few buttons of his dress shirt. A feeling of frustration lodged itself in your throat as he stood before you. His eyes looked you up and down with smug satisfaction.

“My pretty, pretty possession.” The next words he uttered came out gentler than you expected, further fueling the confusion in your brain, “you need to remember who you are.” 

“Do you?” you asked, stepping forward holding your face close to his.

In the silence that followed you swore you could feel his body flinch at your words. It gave you a wicked sense of pride that you had been able to have the last word in that moment, though you knew it left nothing but confusion for the both of you. He rushed past you, leaving with a hushed and calculated shut of your door. One, two, three counts and you knew he wasn’t coming back, not tonight anyway. From a hanger of your large walk-in closet, you pulled a robe and wrapped it tightly around your body before returning to bed. As you lay down, you pulled a pillow close, smelling it and shutting your eyes tightly as tears slipped from them to stain the bedsheets.

*************

Days later in a quiet parking space near your house, Dave paused, his hands roaming the steering wheel as he sat in his car. As he got out, his pace was quick, a hint of excitement brewed beneath as he made his way to your front door. He pressed his finger to the sleek white doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to answer. Silence. He knocked this time. No answer. With fast breaths he pulled out his phone to text you, then call you. Each action was carried out to no avail. So, like any sensible man would, he forcibly entered your home. You knew he would do it. 

Immaculate cleanliness, darkness, and silence met him. He made his way through the cold emptiness, suppressing any panic or anger he was building within. He dashed to your bedroom and flipped on the lights. Your bed was perfectly made, your clothes still hung neatly in the closet with a few shoes standing slightly askew. A little pink envelope rested at the center of the bed; his name written in your perfect cursive. 

It smelled like you. 

He opened a piece of folded stationery within to see only one sentence written. 

Remembering who I am.

[miss-shawdowsinger]

Soothing Darkness - Azriel X reader fanfic

Chapter 1

Summery: Y/N is a high fae living in Velaris. She now owns a small bakery after her mother was killed in the attack 2 years ago. With old scars to heal she accepts the offer to train to be a Valkerie at the house of wind. She meets a certain shadowsinger who might just be the one to fix her.

Warnings: This is a slow burner but will contain smut so 18+ only please! Talks of past trauma and violence will also be frequent.

AN: please let me know what you think! It is my first acotar fanfic!!

----

   The sun was rising over the city of Velaris, peeking through your curtain as a wake up call to a new day. Slowly, you opened your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you threw the bedsheets off you and began your day. Each day was the same, you would wake up at sunrise and go straight to work in the little bakery you lived above. It wasn’t much, just a small shop down a little side street on the outskirts of the city. Only people from the area would purchase your goods during the day. The same faces each day.

Today started off like every other day. You were making fresh bread rolls and small muffins for the usual customers. Casually mixing new recipes to try out later. You shelved the baked good and waited behind the counter for any customers to arrive. Business had been slower then usual as of late. So, you sat on the little stool at the back of the shop and waited with a book you had just started.

Any sign of movement had your eyes flying to the door, but no customers arrived. You scanned the shop, the walls still cracked, and floorboards splintered from the attack two years ago. Shaking your head, you turned back to your book, blocking the memories raising to the surface.

Your book started to become spicy, the male had just confessed his feelings to the lonely girl and they were just about too…..the door to the shop creaked open. The bell above it alarming you that a customer had just arrived. Quicker then necessary you slammed the book shut, heat rising to your cheeks.

“I hope we are not disturbing a good book” a young female’s voice giggled slightly.

“No, not at all” you put the book on the counter and stood from your stool, finally looking up at the three females in your shop. It took you a second to realise just who was stood in front of you. All three looked similar with golden brown hair and blue eyes. “High Lady” you stuttered.

“It’s Fayre” she smiled sweetly at you. “What a lovely bakery, we could smell it all the way down the street” she looked at the small run-down shop around her.

“I’m sorry about the mess” you cringed, you never expected anyone but the usual customers, never mind the high lady and her sisters. “I haven’t gotten round to fixing everything after….” You trailed off. Fayre gave you an understanding smile as her gaze ran to your face and then to the scar that ran across your neck.

“What is it that smells of cinnamon?” the one in the lavender dress stepped forward to ask you before Fayre could say anything else. You knew her to be Elain and her face was kind as she smelt the air. “It smells delicious”.

“That would be my cinnamon swirls” you gestured to the small case of pastries. “Would you like some? On the house of course”.

“We can pay” the third said, her voice sterner than the others. You held your breath, you didn’t mean to insult them. Nesta seemed to have picked this up as she cleared her throat “I mean, we don’t want to put you out of pocket” she clarified.

You grabbed a bag and put three cinnamon swirls in a paper bag. “Anything else for you today?”.

You let the three of them tell you what they wanted and bagged all the items. They explained they were going for a picnic which is why they required all the food. You bowed your head and told them the total. Fayre paid with a generous tip, which you tried to decline with no success.

Just as the three of them were about to leave Fayre turned back to face you. Her eyes full of sorrow as she beheld the scar across your neck. “I am sorry if I am speaking out of line” she hesitated but you remained silent. “Were you affected badly by the attack on Velaris?”.

You stayed silent for a moment, your head spinning with the memories of that dreadful day. Taking a deep breath, you said “A lot of people were affected. Some more then others” you paused and looked at your hands. “I lost my mother”.

A gentle touch to your shoulder had you lifting your head to find Fayre’s comforting eyes on you. “Do you have any other family in Velaris?” her voice was soft, as if she was trying to tread carefully with each word.

“No” you strained to keep the tears from falling. “It’s just me, this was her bakery, and I haven’t had the courage to fix it yet”.

“Just give it time” Fayre smiled softly. “Things will fix over time but only when you are ready” she squeezed my shoulder lightly.

“There is a place where you can heal” Nesta voice pulled your attention from Fayre. “For women affected by any sort of pain” Nesta looked to her sister and seemed to communicate an idea through her smile. “We train every morning for a couple of hours at the house of wind. Women who have been hurt or lost people are welcome. We train to fight and you are more than welcome to join”.

You thought for a moment as you looked between the three sisters who were all smiling, waiting for your answer. “As lovely as the offer is, I can’t leave the shop” you couldn’t help the tinge of pain through your chest at the disappointment on their faces. “It’s the only income I have” you couldn’t bare to look at them for any longer as you gazed at the splintered wooden floor.

“It’s not just about learning to fight” Nesta defended. “It’s about silencing the memories, breathing and getting out of your own head”.

Nesta looked like she was about to say something more before Fayre put her arm out to stop her. “If you change your mind, write a note on this parchment” She placed the paper on the counter. “You will always be welcome” she smiled before she ushered her sisters out the door with a final goodbye and thanks for the food.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding. The room suddenly felt very empty and quiet as you stared at the parchment laid on the counter.

“No” you whispered to yourself. “I can’t afford to”.

~~

Three days had past since the High Lady and her sisters visited your bakery. Three days of the same thing, with hardly any customers and a lot of your baked goods going to waste. Each day you stared at the parchment that Fayre had placed on the counter, thoughts thundering back and forth on each other. Each getting louder and more frustrated.

I should go!

You can’t afford to shut the shop.

There aren’t any customers on a morning.

You can’t fight, you couldn’t fight two years ago….

You looked around the shop. Scars of that day still plastered all around you. Memories coming into vision each time you looked around the room.

I could learn too!

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the nearest pen and wrote on the parchment.

Dear Fayre,

If your offer still stands, I would like to train.

(Y/N) from the bakery.

You didn’t know what else to write so you kept it short and sweet. “Now what?” you voiced your thoughts out loud. Were you supposed to take the note to the house or…..before you could finish the thought, the parchment disappeared. “Well – No going back now”.

A couple minutes passed before a note appeared in front of you on the counter. Pulling your thoughts from your book. Your hands shook as they reached for the parchment and read the words written before you.

Y/N,

I never realised I didn’t get your name.

I’m delighted that you changed your mind. Cassian will be at your shop at 8:30am to pick you up. Wear something you can move in.

Fayre.

~~

You barely slept all night. Since reading the note from Fayre, your body tensed and didn’t ease all day. Sudden dread hit you as you realised that writing the note wasn’t the hard part, actually going to training would be.

Cassian will be at your shop at 8:30 to pick you up.

Cassian was known throughout Velaris as the general of the Night Court armies. The tough, tall and broad Illyrian worrier that you had seen flying the skies and fighting for your city. He was going to be here. Picking you up. The thought made your palms sweat and breathe heavy.

To distract yourself that night you rummaged through all of your clothes, picking out what you think would work best for training. You didn’t have many options, but you chose some black tight but flexible trousers a vest top and a jacket to protect you from the wind up in the mountain.

Sleep never came, thoughts of what could go wrong flooded in. You could embarrass yourself in front of the most important people in this court. You reread the note, fighting the urge to write back to say you had changed your mind.

“No” you whispered to the parchment. “I will not cower away from this”. You tossed and turned all night until 6am when you allowed yourself to get up. You tied your hair back into a simple plait and looked at the bags under your eyes. Sighing, you began preparing the bakery for when you return. The next two and a half hours seemed to last a lifetime. You seemed to find yourself looking at the clock every minute until 8:30am.

You ventured into the back room once again to look over yourself in the mirror when a light knock on the front door froze you to the spot. Shaking, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself as you made your way through the shop to the door. You could see a tall figure stood behind the glazed glass, the silhouette with wings filled the shop floor.

Tentatively, you unlocked and slowly opened the door. The Illyrian towered over you in the doorway. His shoulders bigger then the doorframe, never mind the wings that followed.

“Good morning” he smiled. “Y/N isn’t it? I’m Cassian.” his voice was calm and soft. He must have noticed your expression of fear and made himself seem less intimidating somehow. You took him in, he was the definition on handsome. His shoulder length black hair tied back, and his hazel eyes found yours.

“Morning. Yes, that’s me” you nodded as you widened the door. Cassian eyes roamed over your outfit, nodding his approval before locking eyes with your scar. You quickly shied away from his stare.

“Ready?”. You nodded once, no going back now. Stepping out of the bakery into the clear brisk morning and remembering to lock it behind you, you took his outstretched hand. If he noticed, he didn’t acknowledge your shaking as he picked you up in one swift movement and launched into the sky. You let out a terrified scream as the ground moved quickly away from you. Higher and higher you rose, above buildings until you could only see the mountain in front of you.

You clung onto Cassian for dear life. “I’m guessing Fayre didn’t mention how we got to training” he chucked as my hands clamped round his neck.

“No. She did not” you managed to ground out. You buried your head into his shoulder in order to not look down. “How do you do this and not be scared of falling?” you screamed over the roaring breeze.

“Practise” was all he said. You didn’t dare speak another word, not until your feet could touch solid ground again. The flight didn’t take long, thank the mother. After ten minutes of pure terror Cassian landed in the training rings at the house of wind. “You can look now” he said as he placed your feet down.

The ground had never felt so good. You managed to peel yourself off the General and look at a waiting group of women, all their eyes were on you. All you could hear was the slamming of your panicked heart, beating against your rib cage. Every morsel of your being was trying to stop yourself from being sick. Not in front of everyone, not on your first day.

“Sorry about that” Nesta stepped out of the group and approached you. “Normally we would get someone to winnow you in, but Az was away and Rys had to get Emeire” she pointed to the dark-haired Illyrian woman stood next to her. You couldn’t even form words as you tried to take deep breaths.

“That’s ok” you managed to get out. “I just……just one minute” you bent over resting your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Nesta rested a reassuring hand on your back. You focused on her touch, the comfort she tried to bring you.

You can do this.

“Yes” you straightened suddenly. “I’ve just never flown before….” You looked shyly over to Cassian who bowed his head, trying to keep a straight face.

Without so much as a moments breath you were thrown into meeting all the women surrounding the training rings. Each one of them very welcoming before Cassian’s voice boomed over the chatter.

“Right. Yes, welcome Y/N. Now let’s get to training, shall we?” he clapped his hands together and everyone broke out into their expected places. “Y/N, you will be over here today” Cassian pointed to a small group of priestesses. You followed him over to the three women, all wearing the priestesses’ cloaks and hoods. “Azriel will be back soon but for now can you show Y/N the stretches we went through in the beginning. I’ll be just over there if you need anything” Cassian nodded to you and then the others before going to the larger group and beginning his instructions.

The three priestesses grouped together with you to form a small circle. They began stretching and you followed each of their movements. Your body was stiff and unwilling to flex in some positions. You didn’t realise how weak and unstable your body was until you ate dirt trying to stretch your leg out behind you and falling straight onto your face. You braced yourself ready for the laughter, but it never came. One of the priestesses pulled you up and dusted off your clothes before smiling at you. She gestured for you to try again but slowly.

We continued for twenty minutes. You wobbled and lost balance more times than you could count but you kept trying. The encouragement from the others kept you from giving up so easily.

“Finally” you heard Cassian’s laugh from the other side of the ring. “You decided to show up”. You couldn’t help but look over to see what all the fuss was about, falling over with a grunt mid stance, in the process.

Next to Cassian was another tall Illyrian figure. His back was facing you, but you could see he had black hair and shadows seemed to spiral around is torso. His membranous wings were tucked in but relaxed and you could see his blue siphons atop each hand unlike Cassian’s red ones.

“We have a new recruit today, play nice, I’ve already terrified her” Cassian pointed in your direction. The male followed his outstretched finger directly to you. Your breath caught as you saw the males face for the first time. He was stunningly handsome with a strong jaw and hazel eyes which locked onto yours. His face was unreadable, but his eyes narrowed onto you. You. Who was still on the floor after falling on your ass. Your cheeks burnt as you teared your stare away from the male and quickly shot to your feet. Shit.

Returning your attention away from the Illyrian males you concentrated on the stretch you were working on. Although, you couldn’t help but feel the burning gaze at the back of your head.

“Y/N” you spun at the sudden call of your name. Cassian and the male were now making their way over to you. You swallowed the lump building in your throat as you watched them approach you. “This is Azriel, he will be taking you through your training” Cassian said as he reached your side. You braved to look at Azriel, his face still a mask of no emotion. His eyes met yours, they didn’t wonder, not even to the scar on your neck. Which was usually the first thing people looked at when they saw you for the first time.

“Hello” your voice seemed to squeak out of you. You felt like a small defenceless mouse stood beside these two Illyrian males.

This is why you are here, so you don’t feel as useless.

“I’ll leave you to it” Cassian smirked as he patted his friend on the shoulder. Azriel stood in the small circle the priestesses and you had formed.

“Continue” Azriel instructed. His voice was a deep rasp, no emotion laced within but pure focus. The others continued and you fell into following them again. Azriel circled the group his eyes upon us all, inspecting every movement our bodies made. You willed your heart to stop pounding so hard, he would definitely be able to hear it as it rushed. Working with only the priestesses seemed to have been less nerve-racking but this is why you were here. To be taught how to fight.

You decided to block him out entirely, but pretending he wasn’t there was harder than it looked. Every time he came into view you looked at something, anything else. He would instruct as he circled the group, making sure everyone was positioned perfectly. He would ask for a position and the priestesses would follow his orders. You would catch on and copy the group. He didn’t speak directly to you for the whole of the session. Instead, he calmly reminded the group to raise their elbows or put their weight into their heels along with other instructions that you know was solely aimed at you.

As the session came to a close, every inch of your body seemed to ache. You willed your body to cool off despite its protests. You collapsed onto the floor. Not caring what you looked like as you stared up to the blue sky above. The cold air was a welcome refreshment after what you had just put your body though.

“Ready to go back” Cassian stood over you, smiling from ear to ear.

“I’m glad someone finds it funny” you whispered under your breath.

“The cat has claws” Cassian cooed before laughing. He held out a hand for you to take and you did reluctantly. He pulled you to your feet and gestured to the water in his other hand “drink or you might faint”.

You clasped the glass of water and downed it without so much as a breath. Cassian chuckled as you wiped away the drops at the corner of your mouth. “Thanks” you placed the glass down.

“I hope you come back tomorrow” one of the priestesses smiled at you before taking her leave from the training ring. You looked around the ring as they all departed, apart from Nesta, Emerie a copper headed priestess and Cassian. Azriel was nowhere to be seen. He must have left before everyone else.

“You did good today. It’ll be hard work but worth it, I promise” Cassian spoke softly again, not like the instructor he had been only minutes before.

~~

Once you had gathered the courage to fly again, Cassian dropped you back at the shop’s front door.

“Same time tomorrow” Cassian nodded and before you could say another word or protest, he leaped into the air and flew away.

You managed to have a quick bath while your pastries and breads were baking in the oven. Every muscle in your body seemed to sigh as you sat in the hot water. You sat there soaking up the warmth before you mastered the strength to wash and climb out.

The afternoon in the shop felt like a punishment. You were so tired from the lack of sleep and now your body hated you. If you sat in the stool, which your body was begging to do, you knew you would seize up. So, you found it in you to keep moving around the shop, stretching your body as you paced.

You could almost hear Azriel’s voice telling you to breath into the stretch or go slower allowing your muscles to ease into it. His deep, smooth voice….

There was only a couple of the usual customers that afternoon. Which made you not feel as bad for closing the shop for the morning. Tomorrow, you would do it again. Tomorrow you would do it better. But first sleep.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, sleep took over. No room for nervousness or worry, just deep sleep as your body rested.

Chapter 2

[peachyrogerss]

UNHOLY — S. Rogers

pairing(s): Stark!Reader x Steve Rogers ; Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers

warnings: 18+ only ; minors dni ; unprotected sex, pure smut.

a/n: english is not my first language, so please be gentle with me 🙏🏻, it’s my first time writing here, i hope you’ll like it <3 ; third person narrator.

disclaimer: unlike the meaning of the song, reader is not a whore, some changes have been made.

soundtrack(s): Unholy - Sam Smith ft. Kim Petras ; Traitor - Olivia Rodrigo

synopsis: you’re Tony Stark’s daughter, one of the Avengers and you’ve always had a huge crush on America’s Golden Boy, the one and only Captain America, and he also did. However, when he decided to marry Sharon Carter and have children with her, your desire for him increased disproportionately.

words: 4.1k

It was a rainy day, Sharon and her children had retired to their rooms scattered throughout the Avengers Compound to rest and wait for the head of the family, who was returning from errands to run, according to what he previously said, so they could do family activities.

Rebecca and Harrison, were playing videogames in their playroom. Even though they were both teenagers, they loved spending time and resting in that room. 

«That's strange, dad should be home by now...» said Rebecca, the youngest. 

«..he probably found traffic.» she added later.

Harrison, the elder of the two, kinda knew where his father was and why he was running so late; he had discovered it a couple of months ago, accidentally overhearing a conversation between his father and Y/n Stark.

Little did he know that his father’s heart belonged to Stark’s daughter and, to be honest, he was happy with that. He adored Y/n, she would babysit him when he was younger, their bond was more unbreakable than his father’ shield made out of vibranium.

His mother, though, didn’t know anything, and so did his sister. 

With a smirk on his face, still focused on the game, he opened his mouth.

«Mummy don’t know daddy’s getting hot, at the body shop; doing something unholy.»

«What are you saying Harrison?» asked confused Rebecca.

«Nothing, don’t worry Bex. I was just murmuring something..» replied the boy still keeping that smirk on his face..

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

«It's been a long time since I've been here.. I see you've been remodeling your house.» his voice echoing in the living room of the immense apartment of Tony Stark's future billionaire heiress.

«And it’s only the living room you see, wait until you see the rest of the house.» answered a girl of average height, long wavy brown hair with a curvy but athletic body shape.

«Long time no see, doll.» added the guy, the one and only Steve Rogers himself. 

«I've noticed that you always practice when I'm not around, this has been going on for a while....» continued. 

«Your wife is always in the way, that's why I never train when you're around.» said Y/n annoyed.

«I guess you're here to get your Harley fixed, right? I saw it on the workshop cameras.» added her.

«You’re right.. and I’m here also because I miss you.» Steve said by approaching the girl.

«Don't try to soften me up Rogers, you know very well it doesn’t work with me. In the last few months you've become Sharon's shadow, barely paying attention to me, and I'm not just talking about us outside the team.» scolded off Y/n.

«Oh, c’mon Stark, you're old enough to understand that what we're doing is wrong... and I can't afford to make any missteps... I have two children.»

«Then why are you here? I didn’t even want you to come. I left the compound just to let you alone with your family, and avoid any suspiciouns about us. We spent a lot of time together, your son also overheard one of our conversations. it's a miracle he hasn't said anything to anyone yet.» said Y/n going in her bedroom, followed by the captain who was trying hard to make contact with her.

It had been months since the two had last had sexual intercourse, and he missed her terribly.

He missed her like when you miss the air when you’re underwater in the pool or the sea.

«You are so attractive Y/n. this outfit looks particularly good on you... I think it has some power over my body...» said Steve with a smirk on his face while Y/n was innocently bending over by the bed to grab some clothes and put them in the cabinet.

She was wearing nothing but a Victoria's Secret black satin kimono with lace trim, which covered her toupee and coulottes.

That outfit, contributed in creating a bulge under Captain Rogers' black skinny jeans.

«..It has some power over your body? Are you kidding me Rogers?» she said, pretending to be shocked as she slowly approached the boy.

«Are you sure it’s the outfit and nothing else?» she added, moving to lock the door and then moving back in front of the boy, placing her hands on his black leather jacket and pushing him toward the dark red velvet sofa near the huge windows of her bedroom, forcing him to sit down.

«Did I touch a devole point perhaps?» Said steve in a provocative tone.

Y/n fastened her kimono and positioned herself astride Steve, bringing her intimacy closer to the Captain's, rubbing lightly.

Rogers lowered his eyes for a brief moment, observing the form of the girl sitting on him, meanwhile his bulge grew larger and larger.

«You know, Captain… a lucky, lucky girl, she got married to a boy like you.. she'd kick you out if she ever, ever knew, ‘bout all the shit you tell me that you do..» she began to say whispering in his ear, referring to his wife, Sharon. 

«Dirty, dirty boy, you know everyone is talkin' on the scene. I hear them whisperin' 'bout the places that you've been, and how you don't know how to keep your business clean» continued her, kissing every inch of loose skin on his face and neck, provoking him.

«Mummy don’t know daddy’s getting hot, at the body shop; doing something unholy.» Said Steve imitating a child's voice as, with superhuman speed he grabbed Y/n by the hips and, sketching a wicked grin, catapulted himself onto the girl's marriage bed, gently resting her body beneath his.

«There he is, that’s the Captain I know, always ready to le-» as she spoke, Y/n was interrupted by Steve's lips colliding against hers in a long, passionate kiss.

«If you don't shut your mouth, I swear I'm going to fuck you like there's no tomorrow.» growled the supersoldier.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

«He’s sat back while she’s droppin’ it, yeah, she put it down slowly.. Oh-ee-oh-ee-oh, he left his kids at

ho-ee-oh-ee-ome so he can get that» said Harrison choosing another videogame to play.

«Harrie, you’re scaring me. What are you saying?» added worried Rebecca, not knowing what was going through his brother’s head.

«I’ll wake mummy up, so she can call daddy. It's pouring outside, dad’s with the bike.» cooed the girl standing up and moving towards the door to go wake her mother.

«You’re so innocent Rebecca, he’s a grown up and besides, also a supersoldier, capable of taking care of himself while it’s raining outside.» laughed Harrison.

«Why are you telling me that I’m innocent? I don’t understand» sighed the girl.

«Do you remember Y/n, right? look around, she’s Tony Stark’s daughter, part of the Avengers, and she doesn’t live here anymore.» started Harrison.

«She used to babysit me when I was younger and mom travelled around the world for her missions. Dad was always with her, they were so close, and uncle Bucky told me that they were even before Dad and Mom met and then married» continued.

«You know.. she’s special, and dad thinks about it all the time. I do still love her. I really spent a lot of time with her, even called her mom, just because I hardly ever saw ours.» confided the boy.

«However, one day, mom argued with dad because of the relationship that had developed between me and Y/n.. she couldn't stand that I called her “mom” and blamed dad for not separating her from me and not intervening sooner.» added with a sad tone.

«Oh lord.. but I still don’t understand what does this have to do with dad.» delineated Rebecca.

«When Y/n left the compound, dad tried his best to make her stay, but she felt guilty and would not listen to any other reason.»

«Since that day, dad started to sneak out of the compound and visit her, they spend a lot of time alone. He misses her, and I guess she misses him too, the curious thing is that they have never had a love affair, but maybe they have some other kind of affair -- if you notice, mom and dad are not very intimate..» ended Harrison.

«So you’re saying that dad cheates on mum with Tony’s daughter?» questioned the girl.

«I’m not saying it, it’s just a suspicion I have. And even if it was real, I could only be happier about it. That girl is pure oxygen for dad, she makes him feel alive.» replied her brother.

«You’re happy about it? Are you nuts? He’s CHEATING on mom with another girl! How could you be happy about it?! We need to tell mommy!» blurted out Rebecca, running towards her mother’s room. 

«What an idiot. She should not get involved in their business. That was confident.» whispered to himself Harrison.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

«Do you like when I’m on top of you, Stark?» growled Steve rubbing his intimacy against Y/n’s.

«Or maybe you like when I touch you..» continued while one hand ran down the girl's crotch, moving the flap of fabric covering her pussy with two fingers while exploring the area, moistened with arousal.

«Look at you, doll, so wet for me.. you have no idea of how much this turns me on.. I want to eat you out right now.» whispered Steve as he kissed her neck and left scattered purple marks.

«Then do it, daddy, I’m not stopping you» hissed Y/n.

Being called “daddy” by Y/n excited him to death and also drove him crazy. His eyes turned dark blue, the pupils enlarged and all of his body stiffened.

The two fingers he had placed under the fabric she was wearing reached her clitoris, making her jump slightly. It was a risky and unexpected move, but one that made her moan his name.

«Say it again Y/n» he ordered, slowly entering her pussy and starting fingering her. 

«S-st-steve.. please..» moaned her arching her back. 

«Oh god, I love it when you call my name.» added the Captain, removing his fingers.

With a swift movement he slipped off Y/n's coulottes and spread her legs apart, positioning himself between them, not before giving her a long, wicked kiss.

«I’ll make you cum until I heard you call out my name.» growled him, licking out her wet folds.

«I love your taste, baby. I’ve missed it.» continued while eating her out with circular, alternating movements between fast and slow. All of a sudden he slipped two fingers inside her, and began to move faster, while his mouth was focused on sucking and biting her clitoris.

His movements made her wiggle and arch her back. Y/n felt heat forming in her lower abdomen, and she was aware that she was about to reach her orgasm. She then decided to open her mouth and beg Steve to make her come.

«Steve please, I’m coming.. f-faster..» begged her.

«What did you call me?» he said stopping.

«You know how to call me. Now turn around and go doggy style. You broke one of our rules, and need a punishment. Do you remember? Never call me by my name unless I tell you to.» he scolded off while Y/n was adjusting herself, removing the rest of the clothing she had on.

«I’m sorry, daddy.. I promise I’ll be a good girl.. don’t punish me..» she cried out.

«I don’t care about what you say, you’ll get your punishment.» he said while removing all of his clothes and underwear, spreading y/n’s leg and settling between them. His cock, hard and vascular, twitched. Steve could see drops of pre-seminal fluid leaking from his foreskin.

«I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea of how frustrating it was to have to jerk me off only thinking about you, unable to touch you or have you riding my cock. And, by the way, he missed your mouth.. care to give him a kiss later?» he growled thrusting into her suddenly, making her whimper.

«As you p-please daddy..» she whimpered. He waited a few minutes, just to let Y/n adjust herself, then started pushing mercilessly into her, the sound of their skin colliding also echoed in the room, between their moans.

As he fucked her without restraint, Steve grabbed her hair, causing Y/n's head to bend back slightly, and with his other free hand slapped her ass repeatedly and powerfully, leaving her with red marks from his hand. That, was her punishment.

«I can feel your folds contracting and shrinking around my cock.. look how good you are at taking my cock.. oh god Y/n, you’re so wet and tight..» he said thrusting powerfully, exchanging positions quickly, so she was now upon him.

«Care to ride my cock, babygirl? Show daddy how good you are at riding it.. I really want to see how those pretty boobs of yours bounce along your movements..» he ordered as the girl obeyed.

«I’ll do whatever you please d-daddy.. but I feel like I’m c-coming.. please let me c-come..» she cried out.

«Ride me, now!» he shouted placing one hand on her hip and one on her breast, squeezing it.

She started riding his cock, as her walls clenched and tighten around his shaft, her body trembling and her breath suddenly icreasing. 

«Do you want me t-to cu-cum all over your body or do you want me to fill you up, baby?» he questioned.

«I’m your personal slut, captain. You decide.» she responded, feeling heat increase all over her body, especially in her low abdomen.

Hearing those words, Steve pulled Y/n in for a kiss, by positioning the hand which was previously on her hip, behind her neck. 

He bit her lip, causing her to moan against his mouth and causing him to help her reach her climax by pushing even harder into her.

As soon as she approached her climax, so did he and they came together.

Y/n could feel Steve's cum fill her to the last drop and, Steve, could feel Y/n's pussy shrinking around his cock.

Suddenly their movements slowled to a complete stop, and that was when Steve positioned Y/n beside him, kissing her forehead and caressing her.

«You were so good at taking my cock..» he said taking breath.

«No one can get it the way I can, Steve.» she whispered in his ear with a smirk, slowly moving down to his still erect cock, placing one hand around the length and placing her mouth on the foreskin, opening it slightly and taking it into.

Steve was silent, he had no words, nothing to say, so bent his head back, settled down, and let the girl do everything. From time to time there was eye contact, which made his cock contract.

Y/n went on like that for about fifteen minutes, until Steve reached his second orgasm and came in her mouth.

Wiping with her fingers the nooks and crannies where cum had leaked, Y/n swallowed and snuggled down next to Steve, putting her head on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

«It tastes so good..» she said leaving kisses on his cheeks and mouth.

«I wish you could stay here forever, Steve.. I really want to.» sighed Y/n.

«You have no idea how much I would like that too... however, I'm married, and you know that.»

Hearing those words, Y/n's heart began to ache. She knew well that Steve, her first and only true love, was unattainable.

They had known each other for years, but she always missed the chance to tell him how she felt. He, too, was no different, too shy to confess his feelings to her, too intimidated by turning against Tony.

Years later, however, the two were still unconscious about their feelings for each other.

Their sexual relationship began on Steve's wedding day. He was the one who had started this adventure. He needed to clear his head, and as he locked himself in one of the rooms of the mansion where the reception was taking place, he found y/n unnerved.

Without a second thought, he catapulted himself onto her, and they had a sexual intercourse, in which she took part without backing down.

From then on, they began seeing each other secretly until Steve became a father and asked her for the favor of babysitting his son Harrison when both he and his mother were indisposed.

Eventually Harrison grew up together with his father and babysitter as his mother, Sharon, was often away on business. When the couple later argued because Harrison called Y/n “mom” instead of Sharon, Y/n felt guilt crushing her chest and thus decided to leave.

She tried to return but, seeing the couple reunited and close-knit, decided to leave the Avengers Compound for good and live alone, away from everyone. She no longer trained with the team, no longer spent time with the Avengers, and only showed up at the Compound when Steve was not there. By now she frequented that place only for her father.

«Y/n.. I have something to say..» he whispered turning around to face her.

«Say it, then.» she responded.

«I… uhm..» he esitated for a moment «I…»

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

«Mummy wake up, I have to tell you something important.» said Rebecca gently shaking her mother.

«Is daddy home?» questioned Sharon, who was waking up.

«No, he’s not, but I know where he might be!» responded the girl.

«Where’s he?» said Sharon, meanwhile from the hallway there was the noise of the footsteps of someone running, and that someone was indeed Harrison.

«Dad’s at Y/n’s pl-» started Rebecca before being interrupted by her brother.

«Dad’s at Y/n Stark’s workshop, his bike needed to be fixed, he called me a few minutes ago.» said Harrison showing the list of recent calls to his mother.

«So he’s on his way home?» asked Rebecca.

«Yes he is, and also says he’s sorry for running late.» answered Harrison, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek and walking towards his bedroom, followed shortly after by his sister.

«I swear to god Bee, if you try even one more time to tell mom what I told you, I will make you pay for it.» hissed the boy.

His sister didn’t respond, she just nodded her head and retired to her bedroom quietly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve was about to say something to Y/n when he was interrupted by the ringtone of his cell phone.

It was his son, he had called persistently and had left about 20 messages.

He responded in a hurry and quickly put his clothes back on, not before cleaning himself up.

«Look, Y/n I’m sorry but I gotta go.» he said buttoning his belt.

«Wait, you were about to tell me something, what is it then?» she questioned with a puzzled look mixed with sadness.

«Nothing, forget about it. See you little Stark» he ended the conversation, rushing out of the girl’s house.

Tears began to form in Y/n's eyes, but she shook her head and headed to the bathroom, to wash herself.

She filled the tub with warm water and set the shuffle playback on Spotify.

To her surprise "Traitor" by Olivia Rodrigo started up and she began to sing it at the top of her lungs.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

[…]

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

And I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

[…]

Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter

[…]

Guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor.

«I love you, Rogers.. I really do.» she whispered to herself before washing her face with hot water and relax her tensed muscles.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve’s bike got fixed and he rushed home, with guilt that wouldn’t leave him.

On his way home, he had made a decision, to leave her wife so he could spend the rest of his days with Y/n, his true love.

«I’m back!» shouted Rogers approaching the rooms reserved for his family.

«Finally, Bex and Har thought you were lost.» said Sharon hugging his husband, without getting a hug in response.

«What’s wrong with you, Stevie? Did something happen?» questioned the blonde.

«We need to talk.» He coldly replied.

The two went to the meeting room, surrounded by soundproof glass, and once inside, Steve confessed in full detail everything that had been and still was present between him and Y/n. He felt guilty, both about his children and his wife, but most of all he felt guilty about the girl he truly loved.

Sharon was shocked, not expecting it, however, she understood. Indeed, she had recently met a man who worked with her at SHIELD and they had started dating, but never sleeping together, for now.

They were playing with equal arms, both adulterers, both guilty of each other's suffering. Yet Sharon could not believe that all this time Steve had hidden this from her. She could understand weeks, months... but even years? And with two children in between?

After a heated argument, the two came to the conclusion that they had to break off their marriage.

Several days later, they decided to communicate the decision to their children, who, in understanding their father -Harrison in particular, who was happy for him- did not take it badly.

For her part, Sharon decided to leave the Avengers Compound and move back to her old home.

Steve and the children would remain living in the same place.

From that time on, Steve almost never called Y/n again; he wanted to wait until his divorce was official before contacting her again. Up to that point he had ignored her, and he felt terribly guilty.

He was aware that Y/n was suffering, but he promised himself that he would never make her feel bad again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been months since Y/n and Steve last had sex. A week after that event, Y/n began to experience strange symptoms, such as nausea and belly pain.Frightened, she decided to take a pregnancy test, which, to her surprise, came back positive.

Having had no relations with anyone other than Steve, the fetus in her womb could only be his.

However, Steve's estrangement pained her and not a little, but she still decided to keep the baby, who only after a couple of weeks turned out to have a twin. 

And there she is, six months later, pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl. Captain America's children.

When Steve ran to Y/n to talk to her and tell her about the divorce, he almost had a stroke. 

He felt his world come crashing down on him.

He could not think about Y/n being pregnant by another man.

«Y/n, I need to talk to you» Steve said as he approached the girl's bed, his head down.

«Talk, I'm listening. But then go away, I don't want to see you again» she replied annoyed, gently stroking her belly.

«Sharon and I got divorced» Steve confessed all of a sudden. That news made Y/n jolt; she had not expected it. Her heart missed beats and little tears of joy threatened to spill from her eyes.

«Steve tell me you're kidding, please» said Y/n almost shocked.

«I'm not kidding. I did it for the two of us.» He said as he approached the girl, helping her out of bed.

«Y/n I love you, I always have.» he said putting his hands on her hips, now big because of her baby bump, and pulled her close to kiss her.

She returned the kiss and began to cry with joy.

«I love you too, Rogers. I always have.»

She could not believe that this was happening. Steve, her Steve Rogers, was finally hers in his own right, and he was also the father of the children she was carrying.

All of a sudden, however, Steve broke away the kiss, and before Y/n could open his mouth, he lowered his gaze to the baby bump, caressing it.

«Who’s the father of the baby?» he asked in a sad tone.

«They're twins, Rogers -- a boy and a girl..» she began, not answering his question.

After minutes of silence, he opened his mouth to speak. 

«Congratulations...and I'm sorry I left you alone, that was not my intent-» he spoke only to be abruptly interrupted.

«They’re your children, Steve. You're the father.» she confessed, placing her hands on the boy's, still firm on her baby bump, who was now smiling.

»•» 🦋 «•«

[hwapetals]

baked with love!

the title is so unoriginal im sorry, hope u enjoy it though! this is my first fic on here so reblogs and likes are appreciated <3! constructive criticism is as well and this wasnt really proofread oops

pairing: bakery owner!seonghwa + domestic!seonghwa x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of food and baking

word count: 3129 words

story starts under the cut! main story is sectioned into 3 with a bonus part at the end

PREP!

the sweet scent of fresh croissants and a variety of cakes attacked (y/n)'s nose, making their stomach grumble and mouth water in response.

"my god, i'm starving. the smell is NOT helping one bit," (y/n) mumbled to themselves, tapping their foot impatiently as they stood in line.

(y/n) hated their job. sure, it paid a lot but it didn't make them happy. it took countless sleepless nights and they found themselves with a huge workload every day.

the only thing helping them hold on was their lunch breaks. they were extremely thankful that they were situated in an area where there were shops everywhere, mostly food shops.

they had tried quite a few stores but this one pastry shop in particular had caught their interest and one of their favourite places to eat at now, making them a regular there.

(y/n)'s thoughts were quickly interrupted by the queue moving in front of them, making them be at the front of the line to face the cashier now.

"what would you like— oh, hey! (y/n), right?" the male said to them. he was kitted out in a white long sleeved blouse and a blue apron with a checkered pattern with a small logo stitched in the corner. 

he also had a pair of round glasses on and (y/n) could recognize him from the name tag attached to his blouse.

"oh, seonghwa! it's a pleasure to see you. you normally don't work the register, what's the special occasion?" (y/n) greeted him enthusiastically, the male matching their bright smile with his own.

“we’re currently training a new intern in the back and the cashier is having a day off today to go to a wedding so i’m taking his place for now. did you want your regular order?"

"oh, that's cool!! and i was planning to get something different today, but i'm not sure what to get so, surprise me, will ya?" (y/n) said, pulling out a 20 dollar bill from their wallet and placing it on the glass counter.

"will do! i'll bring you your change when i serve you," seonghwa said with a nod, sliding the bill into the cash register, before handing over a plastic table sign with the number 18 printed on it.

"thank you!" (y/n) said, taking it and walking towards a nearby table, directly in sight of the cash register.

their lunch times were slightly later than the typical office worker's so the café was usually quite uncrowded and quiet, allowing them to fully relax and eat in peace.

they pulled out their phone and plugged in an earphone into their ear, before putting on some music and opening their emails to check for any important emails to take note of.

unluckily for them, their boss had emailed them saying that the document originally intended to be sent out the week after was brought forward to the next day, making (y/n) sigh in response, shutting their phone off and place in on the table in front of them.

"god, this job fucking sucks. why does my boss always do this to me?" (y/n) mumbled in exasperation, not noticing the man approaching them wiith a tray of their food.

"hey, you alright?" seonghwa questioned with a concerned expression, setting down the tray onto the table gently.

"yeah, i'm fine. just work stuff, you know?"

"ah, understandable. wanna talk about it? the café isn't busy, i can keep you company for a bit," he offered, putting his hands in front of him neatly as he awaited their response.

"it would be great but the real question is, do you mind me rambling for a bit?"

"oh, of course not. i'm willing to listen and help you out if needed," 

"you're too sweet. thank you," (y/n) said with an appreciative smile, beckoning seonghwa to come sit next to them.

"it's no worries, gotta look out for one of my favourite customers!" seonghwa said, scooting closer to (y/n).

"so, where shall i start? there's so much i want to talk shit about," (y/n) said, slumping into the cushioned bench, with a loud sigh.

all seonghwa could do while (y/n) ranted away was to nod and make small remarks so they knew he had his whole attention on them. it wasn't that hard for him to pay attention to them, though.

after fifteen minutes, (y/n) stopped talking and just let out another loud sigh, checking their phone to see that their lunch break was almost over.

"well, it looks like i have to leave to continue working. it was nice chatting with you, it was more one-sided, actually. sorry about that. thank you a lot though, i appreciate it," (y/n) said, flashing a brighter smile to seonghwa and finishing the rest of the strawberry milk that seonghwa had made for them.

"oh, no! i didn't mind it at all. thank YOU for confiding in me. did you like the strawberry milk and apple pie?" seonghwa said, getting up as (y/n) did the same, dusting off his apron.

"of course! it was delicious. i'll take my leave now, i'll be able to work better, thanks to you," (y/n) replied, putting their phone into their small bag, preparing to head off before they felt seonghwa grab their wrist, making them turn to face him.

"sorry if this is a bit… sudden. would you like to maybe work here? we're looking for new workers and i need an extra pair of hands to help me with managing stuff anyways," seonghwa asked sheepishly, releasing his grip on (y/n)'s wrist while mumbling an apology.

"that sounds pretty good, actually. but i'm still kind of scared, to be honest. but i'll definitely think about it!"

"take your time! it's alright if you decide not to, it’s just an offer!”

“i’ll keep it in mind! i’ll see you tomorrow during my lunch break again,” (y/n) said, pushing an earphone in their ear before waving at seonghwa before scurrying out the door hurriedly as they felt their phone vibrate from a text from their coworker.

BAKING!

seonghwa and (y/n) leaned against the kitchen counter, both finally being able to relax after a busy day of work, both having to clean, bake and serve constantly throughout the day alongside a few other workers. this day was especially busy due to it being valentine’s day and (y/n)'s suggestion to make the menu themed specially for holidays which boosted customer rates.

"you know whats so funny? our bakery is the most popular during valentines day but we ourselves don’t have anyone to celebrate it with,” (y/n) noted, glancing over at seonghwa who laughed in response.

“you’re right, it is pretty ironic. we could change that, actually,” seonghwa said, turning his head to face (y/n).

“how do you suggest we do that?” (y/n) questioned, raising their eyebrow at seonghwa’s statement, before they were caught off guard by him turning around and using his hands to pin them between the counter and his body.

"oh? how bold," (y/n) teased, looking up to meet his eyes. they were awfully close to each other and (y/n) was panicking but they weren't going to let that show. 

(y/n) had liked him for a while now, but they didn’t change much in how they were interacting with him, it seemed subtle to them at least. but seonghwa had definitely noticed their ‘subtle’ change in behaviour when in interactions with him. he noticed how nicer they began to treat him and how flustered they got when he flirted back with them amongst other small things they did.

seonghwa had his eye on them for a while now, but he wasn’t going to make a move until the right time. it killed him having to wait but seeing their reactions to every little thing he did was entertaining to him. it was worth the wait, he would say. he wasn’t going to deny that he enjoyed seeing them flustered, rather he found it cute.

“mmm, one of us had to be direct eventually,” seonghwa said, moving in closer to lessen the gap, making (y/n)'s face flush redder as their eyes flickered away, gulping in nervousness.

“eyes on me, darling. would be rude if i didn’t pay attention to you while you’re talking, right?” seonghwa purred, using his thumb and index finger to gently grab their chin to successfully guide their eyes back onto him. he smiled smugly, seeing their eyes lock on to his. 

(y/n) was definitely unfamiliar with this side of seonghwa, mostly only seeing his kind and sweet side. they couldn’t deny that they found how he was acting at that moment was rather attractive.

(y/n) was conflicted as to what to do. it was painfully obvious that he was flirting with them but it was more than that, they felt. be direct or back off? they were afraid that making the wrong move would destroy their relationship.

seonghwa laughed, moving backwards slightly, after seeing (y/n)'s reaction to his previous action, before he was caught off guard by (y/n) pulling his tie forward harshly, their lips meeting with his. 

he happily reciprocated the kiss, tilting his head and using his hands to hold their waist as (y/n) wrapped their arms around his neck. it felt like an eternity but they weren’t complaining. they wanted this feeling to last forever. his soft lips against theirs and his warm hands holding their waist, before they pulled apart to (y/n) and seonghwa’s dismay.

“damn. that was better than i thought it would be,” (y/n) said, smiling, as seonghwa grinned back, this time his face redder than before. it had just sunk in what happened and seonghwa was extremely embarrassed but happy.

“how’s that for being direct?” (y/n) teased, staring at the male who was looking away, his hand covering the bottom half of his face, clearing his throat while (y/n) readjusted themselves so that they were now not leaning against the counter.

“very great. ten out of ten. would do it again,” seonghwa mumbled out, attempting to look back at (y/n) and failing miserably. (y/n) laughed at his ‘review’ of the kiss, making a remark of how he sounded like a really bad food critic.

“okay, on a more serious note, i need to ask this now. what are we?” 

“mm, whatever you want. we can make it official now or take it slow and go on some dates and stuff,”

“if you don’t mind, we could take it slow, go on some dates and see if we’re compatible as a couple, you know? not saying that it wouldn’t work out!!” (y/n) suggested, panicking at the last bit as they didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

“no, no. i get you. i’d like that too,” seonghwa said with a warm smile, taking (y/n)'s hand in his.

“shall we talk more about this over a movie and some instant ramen?” seonghwa asked, awaiting (y/n)'s response.

“sounds great! never pegged you as an instant ramen kinda guy, though,”

“shhh, it’s a guilty pleasure of mine,”

SERVING!

(y/n)'s eyes opened widely, in response to their stomach loudly grumbling in the early hours of the morning. 

it was barely bright enough to see outside, but the faint silhouette of the sun shining indicated to them that it was time to get up. normally, they would get up earlier to go to the bakery to prep for business but since it was a public holiday, they were allowed to wake up later and do whatever they wanted for a few hours.

(y/n)'s turned to the side of their king sized bed, shared with their significant other, with a frown after realizing that he wasn't there, quietly whining in slight annoyance before they stretched their limbs and sat up, kicking the thick blanket off their body.

they continued on with their morning routine that included sitting on the bed for an extra 10 minutes before going to brush their teeth and sleepily going to the living room to go on social media.

there was a certain familiar smell going around the house that (y/n) very much recognized and enjoyed. the scent of the butter of the crust, the mouthwatering spices and the aroma of the main and best ingredient of the pastry made (y/n) salivate. it was very surprising to (y/n) that apple pie became one of their favourite desserts, considering they weren’t a fan of it before with its mushy insides and overwhelming spices at times, but it made sense somewhat because they were literally dating the best baker they knew. biased? sure, but it didn’t matter to them.

they swung open the door quietly and peeked their head out to the living room and the kitchen. the apartment was small but cozy, and definitely an upgrade from their old apartment. the smell only got stronger, prompting them to walk out. they were greeted with the sight of their boyfriend, seonghwa, humming to himself as he stood in front of the stove, stirring as ingredients were neatly placed next to each other on the countertop.

(y/n) sneaked behind him, before placing their hands on his waist and burying their face into his shoulder.

“good morning! what’re you making?” (y/n) asked, tip-toeing to peek at whatever he was cooking in the pot.

“i’m making apple pie and strawberry milk! and also strawberry jam for the bakery, we’re planning to release scones as part of our menu,” seonghwa replied, leaning into (y/n)'s touch as he stirred constantly to avoid anything burning.

“oh, sounds great!! do you need any help?”

“no, not really! just go put something on on the tv or something and i’ll be out with the food soon,” 

“alright, i’ll go put on some breaking bad and clean up the bedroom real quick,” (y/n) said, releasing their grip on seonghwa before scurrying off to do what they said before. several minutes passed, before seonghwa’s voice rang, summoning (y/n) to the dining area instantaneously. 

on the table, there were two porcelain plates with apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a mint leaf neatly placed on top of it. a see-through glass cup was at the left side of it, containing a layer of chunky homemade strawberry syrup with fresh milk layered on top of it, a bubble tea straw inside, leaning against the edge of the cup.

(y/n) sat next to seonghwa, fidgeting with their hands in anticipation and excitement, as they stared down at the food, before glancing back at seonghwa who raised his eyebrow, beckoning them to try the apple pie and strawberry milk.

seonghwa watched as (y/n) happily began to dig into the pastry and drink, smiling to himself as he watched them enjoy it. the one thing in the world that made him the happiest would be seeing his significant other enjoy whatever he made for them. it was definitely great that he had a partner who shared the same passion regarding baking and cooking like him.

he couldn’t wish for anything better than this.

BONUS SCENE!

(y/n) yawned, rubbing their eyes before they continued to type away at their keyboard. it was around 2 am, and they were almost done with the new menu design. they took a sip of their lukewarm black coffee, letting out a soft sigh of satisfaction, the coffee giving them a little more energy. 

“mm, what’re you doing awake at this time?” a soft voice rang out from behind (y/n), making them turn around abruptly to see it was their boyfriend, seonghwa, who was leaning against the door frame.

“oh, i’m just finishing up the menu so we can get it printed by afternoon,” (y/n) said, facing seonghwa with a tired smile. they knew that they didn’t have to get it done this early but they just wanted to for some reason.

“nope, we’re going to bed right now. it’s cold without you,” seonghwa said, making (y/n) laugh at his second statement.

“nah, i wanna get this done quickly and i’ll go to bed. i won’t take long, go get some rest, you need it more than me,” (y/n) said, with no intention of changing their mind which seonghwa could notice. he sighed, walking up to them to wrap his arms around their shoulders.

“okay, okay, fine. what if i make you something real quick? i’d feel bad if i didn’t help you or anything,” seonghwa suggested, (y/n) sleepily insisting that he should go back to bed and that he doesn’t need to do that for them, making him scoff.

“no, i insist, you deserve it for working so hard," seonghwa said, releasing his grip from (y/n) who whined in response to his stubborness, glaring at the male who just laughed and left the room to go to the kitchen.

all (y/n) could do was sigh and continue to work while they listened closely to the sounds of plates clinking and the sizzling of food as they took sips of their coffee in short intervals.

after around 20 minutes or so, seonghwa came into the room, holding a plate and set it down next to (y/n)'s laptop. they quickly took a peek at it, their eyes lighting up after seeing the golden brown exterior of french toast, with maple syrup and condensed milk drizzled over it and a small square of cold butter placed in the middle of it.

now that they were closer to it, they could smell the eggy scent of the perfectly cooked piece of toast and the subtle aroma of the maple syrup drizzled over it. 

"thank you. for this. i appreciate it," (y/n) said, glancing over their shoulder to look at seonghwa whos lips stretched into a wide smile after hearing what they said.

“anything for you!” seonghwa replied, quickly kissing the cheek of (y/n) who rolled their eyes jokingly, looking back at their laptop.

“god, you’re the cheesiest person i know,”

“and you love that, don’t you?”

“no comment,”

“damn. i just got rejected, i’m so heartbroken,” seonghwa said, feigning sadness to evoke a laugh out of (y/n).

“don’t take it personally, sweetheart. now, go to bed, you need your sleep,” (y/n) instructed, continuing to type quickly and move images around with their mouse.

“nope, i’ll stay here until you’re done,”

“no, you’re going to bed. how about this? i’ll finish the food, you go to bed and i’ll work there beside you instead. and no exceptions! i want to finish this today,” (y/n) suggested, turning again to look up at seonghwa who frowned and began to protest until they shot him a look which made him whine again but leave the room.

“what a child, i still love him though,” (y/n) said to themselves with a laugh, before starting to dig into the food he made for them.

END!

[soultek]

Lover. Fighter. - A Concept

Everybody says there's two kinds of hearts Where one loves and one goes to war I know, it's not easy or that simplified, no But you and I are on each others side I know, it's not easy or that simplified, no But don't you know that I'd lay down my life

I will be your Lover. Fighter. Harder. Higher. Lover. Fighter. I wanna fight for Lover. Fighter. Under fire Lover. Fighter. I wanna fight for love

--- [Playlist] ---

Word Count: 1879

Concept: After being released into the world on the anniversary of Markus’ Hart Plaza march, the RK900 model is sent to Detroit PD. Said to be deviant proof, many want to test that theory... But there are more pressing matters, threats to lives in D.C. due to the ever increasing number of protests lead Nines to his first real test. And she doesn’t like him much, either...

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death threats. 

A/N: This is only a prologue to the above ‘concept’ I have some more info for you in the tags though! 😊 Had to post this for the anniversary! It’s been in my drafts since May 9th 2022... 😅

---

In the just over 18 months since Markus’ march on Hart Plaza, plenty had already changed in the world. That was just in the immediate circle of the movement and their allies within Detroit Police Department. Connor hadn’t given up his role as a detective, and nowadays he had almost as many rights as his human counterparts – give or take a few, Markus and co. were in Washington D.C. seemingly every other weekend negotiating something or other.

Cyberlife had turned into something more of an android repair shop and upgrade centre. Those who chose to remain with their human families certainly needed such things – and those who didn’t could still drop by. Even with Jericho also open to welcome and service all commers. And – like it or not – certain androids still needed to return to Cyberlife for such tuning. Connor being a prime example – though these days he hardly ever went unaccompanied. And, Kamski was more or less back in the driver’s seat, so… it was unlikely anything untoward was going down.

With one notable exception. Nines. The RK-900 model was released exactly a year after Markus’ revolution – that was no coincidence. Cyberlife had been working on an android that was impossible to turn Deviant for a long while. They weren’t just going to lock him away. No, instead Nines (as he was now affectionately dubbed) was shipped out to the central precinct of the DPD to be the very last machine. Even if he was the first of his kind. The most advanced model cyberlife had ever created – and at least as far as the foreseeable future was concerned, the last model to ever be released. He may not have been a prototype – but he was damn near as cold and efficient as Cyberlife had wanted Connor to be. And also eerily looked like him, which had caused many to steer clear for Nines’ first few months on the job.

Though, considering for some insane reason he’d been paired up with Gavin Reed, it was fairly understandable why anyone would want to steer clear. Try as Gavin might to protest it, no one budged and try as he might to insult his partner into giving up, Nines was unflappable. But, had a sense of sarcasm where it was never quite easy to tell if he was joking or just plain being mean. (When he was talking to Gavin it was nearly always the latter).

Markus and Connor – what with the power they had to deviate android models as prototypes - had always talked of doing something about it. Regarding testing if Cyberlife’s “incorruptible” android really was all that. But Ilyana – Jericho’s sole Human ‘member’, for relation purposes – was always adamant that if Nines were to turn, it would have to be on his own terms; his own realisation, just as it had been for them. She had been the one to first call him “Nines” instead of his model number, and he’d duly adopted it. If he could show any form of affection and emotion, it was usually to her. Which is how this sudden change in plans had really come about.

  Paige Carlin, CSI, was one of the people who had taken a long while to warm to the new presence in the precinct. She liked androids well enough, but… considering her situationship with Connor it was never going to be easy getting used to someone who looked almost identical. As she stepped into the office this morning however, having just about got used to his presence, she found Nines standing at his desk with a box – packing. She raised an eyebrow, stuffing her hands into her pockets. This was unexpected, and sudden, he’d not said anything about moving. Glancing to Connor and Hank, she found herself none the wiser, they were both working at their desks seemingly unbothered (though, Connor would probably like being the only android in Central again.)  

She approached Nines slowly, not to seem nosy but only appropriately curious. “Where are you off to!?” He looked up, gave a slight nod to acknowledge her – his version of Good Morning she supposed, and then went right back to packing. “I’ve been reassigned.” Paige almost couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows in shock, “T- To a new precinct?! Where are you going? We’ve only just got used to you being here and integrated, and they’re making you leave?! That doesn’t seem fair!” Although, she could assume with almost 99% positivity that Gavin probably had something to do with it – despise Androids as he still did. Paige had issues of her own with Nines’ partner. Ex-Partner. Even though the android seemed pretty unbothered by this change of plans, Paige couldn’t help but glare into Gavin’s back. “We’re all gonna miss you! Especially Gavin but I’m sure he’ll get over it - after 2 weeks of uncontrollable crying.” She was impressed with herself, less than five minutes in the office and already able to get digs in at her least favourite co-worker? Must have been a new record. The man in question turned around and shot her a look. Needless to say, she wasn’t his favourite person either.

This time Nines stood still, giving her his full attention, to address her question properly. Which she appreciated, even though his blue eyes were still unnerving. Did CyberLife really have to make them THAT blue!? She thanked God sometimes that he at least didn’t have the same voice they’d given Connor. There was the same kind of tone, same rhythm, but it was a little deeper – and he pronounced words and letters ‘properly’- The ‘t’s and ‘g’s, in particular, were never dropped. “I’m going to D.C.” Paige stalled for a second - well, she hadn’t been expecting that. “Washington!? Wow. What!?” Nines nodded, looked like he was about to hesitate telling her something and then decided to say it anyway, “More specifically, the White House.” “The- the White House!?” She spluttered, eyes wide, before collecting herself. Actually, that seemed very logical. “Well, yeah, I… I guess with all you can do that makes sense! Security?” He blinked once, straightening to his towering full height; “In a way.” That was Nines’ way of politely asking her to drop the questions before he started telling her everything was classified. Paige merely nodded, understanding. “I guess they… didn’t really build you for…” She waved her hands at the station floor, “this! A lot of wasted potential in your design just being here!” That was true. Connor had been built for police work, for all intents and purposes, Nines had been built for war.

Speaking of her favourite android, from the other side of the precinct Connor couldn’t help but look up, a little hurt. Paige didn’t even need to see him to know this had occurred and pointed back at him, “I knew you were gonna take offence to that!” Connor looked from her to Nines and back, head tilted, “I didn’t even say anything!” She looked back at him with a wink, “Babe, I know you!” Before turning back to Nines with a smile, “Congrats boy, you’re going places! You’ll have to remember your friends back in DPD central precinct when you’re up in the lofty heights of DC political society!” What ghost of a smile emote she presumed CyberLife had coded him with for ‘happiness’, Nines gave her in return, “I’m sure I’ll be back visiting – it’s not like Detroit isn’t a political centre itself these days.” The ‘what with’ was left unsaid, but in unison they both managed:

“Markus.” Before Paige nodded again, “Makes sense! You’ll have to let us know every time you’re in town! Does Ilyana know, she’ll be upset for sure!” Nines – as Paige predicted – managed to make his smile a little more genuine at the mention of said woman. It almost reached his eyes. “Yes. I was discussing things with her recently, in fact she is where this comes from.” Paige’s eyebrows raised again, this time she leaned forward onto his desk, “From Il- no, I changed my mind I shouldn’t be concerned if she’s upset! I should be blaming her!” She took a breath, and chuckled, “I’m kidding, this will be great for you! I hope you enjoy it!” If he even knew what that meant. Still, Nines responded as expected. “I’ll do my best.”

There were a few seconds silence that followed, but the intent stare that Paige was giving him told Nines all he needed to know. Exactly what she was asking when she wasn’t even asking it. Nines could read her like a book. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing there, Ms. Carlin - it’s classified!” There was the word she expected, but it disappointed her all the same. Couldn’t he make an exception for the group of people here he might be able to call friends? Ilyana would probably know – but getting anything out of her would be just as hard, Paige would reckon. Connor quirked an eyebrow, still listening into the conversation. Eyes flicking to his computer. Classified? Yeah right - he could have that file cracked in two seconds and Nines probably knew it. Paige would likely know the information she was after before he even got the chance to leave the building. Still, as far as Nines was concerned it would remain classified if he hadn’t told her.

Truth was it wasn’t just any normal type of security Nines would be heading to the White House for – and it wasn’t really government work either. With Androids gaining their own rights there were obviously a lot of people who, having previously had problems with Androids when they were viewed as ‘machines’, had even more problems with them now. Anti-Android protests and groups sparked up across the country and whenever they were on the news, they were a great point of contention. Usually this was the point that Nines would hear Hank and Paige swear most and turn off the news so as not to get so mad they’d put their fists through the screen. On the other side of things there were the pro-android groups; those supporting the android movement, who felt like the government weren’t doing enough, even when they were working in collaboration with Markus. Mostly the protesting was non-violent but, that didn’t mean they all were. And, during all of this the president had received a number of death threats. Warren wasn’t so concerned about herself – she had the best of the best in the secret service guarding her.

What she was worried about was the number of credible threats against her daughter’s life. In the hope that they could sway her decisions one way or another. Having offhandedly mentioned this to Ilyana one day on a visit, Markus’ young, quick thinking, human relations partner had the perfect solution. The most advanced model CyberLife had ever created? Virtually indestructible? Not a deviant? (In fact, Nines was programmed to patch any potential source of deviancy – hence unconvertable.). Paige was right, his talents fit him in the DPD fine, but they were wasted. A few weeks and negotiations later Nines found himself assigned to be the personal bodyguard to one Ms. Rie Warren.

And he believed he was looking forward to it. ---

Thank you for reading! Happy Anniversary DBH! 💙

[usaghinanami99]

how are you into devilman

Fine, thanks, how about you? Kidding, kidding. I know what you're asking (and I know I'm late answering...): I don't seem like the type of person that would post about something like Devilman, right? Well, the reason behind my getting into it is actually the simplest you can think of: as the most cursory glance at my blog can show, I am an animanga nerd (and for many other things too, but that's a story for another day). I've also been a literary nerd since my dad taught me to read, and now I'm a Literarure student, to boot. My burning passion for literary creation and, crucially, for acquiring knowledge about it (through reading it first-hand, of course) thus plays an enormous part in the way I read and/or watch non-literary texts, which I never choose to engage with any less seriously than I'd do with anything else. And, well, you know how there are some books that you can't not read if you want to understand the literary history of a particular country and/or language? When the medium we're concerning ourselves with is manga, then we can't not read Devilman the same way we can't not read Astro Boy, Attack no. 1, The roses of Versailles or dozens other milestones in the history of Japanese comic that I can't list here and now. I've known that Devilman was among these required readings for a long time, because its immense importance was always referenced in all the books and magazines about the history of manga that I devoured as a Gymnasium student. And my curiosity only grew with the years, because the comic book shop I was a regular at couldn't obviously sell me a series with such a high age rating before I turned 18. You can add to that the fact that I thought I was already well-acquainted with Gō Nagai, when in fact I was only familiar with family-friendly animated adaptations of his most famous works. This is because since around the age of 7 I had watched and rewatched the Robotic Trilogy anime (which consists of Mazinger Z, Great Mazinger and UFO Robot Grendizer), as well as the unrelated Jeeg Robot, be it via some of the very frequent TV reruns or via videotapes that my mum had recorded at the end of the last century. Grendizer, in particular, is very dear to my mum because she grew up on it during the late 70's, so to put is shortly she made it so it could become a part of my childhood too. (Off-topic side note: she was very excited when news of the upcoming Grendizer U reboot aired on TV, but I fear she'll be disappointed due to it being written by the same Ichirō Ōkōchi who's brought us Devilman Crybaby...) Putting it simply: I knew I liked these anime series so I thought I liked Gō Nagai, which fostered my desire to read this all-important but forbidden Gō Nagai manga that I kept on reading about. How things have changed... It may be repeated too much, but it's just because it's true: no one respects Gō Nagai more than those who only known him cursorily through Tōē Dōga's classic adaptations of his giant robot stories, but no one hates Gō Nagai more than those who have actually endured reading his manga.

This was just the needlessly long story behind why, as you can see, I had the moral duty to read Devilman. Flash forward to early 2017, I turn 18, I go to the comic book shop, I buy Devilman, I return home, I read Devilman, I am traumatised, I begrudgingly recognise its genius, I am still disgusted, I develop a (probably unhealthy) love-hate relationship with this manga. Not with Gō Nagai though, that one is a pure hate relationship. BTW, you can imagine how shocked I was when I discovered that my childhood fave Tōkyō Mew Mew was secretly a Devilman retelling; I am just glad I hadn't yet watched stuff like, say, Neon genesis Evangelion before reading Devilman, but this just proved how right I was about there being some manga that should be required reading before passing on to... well, everything else.

I unfortunately suffer from a terminal form of completism syndrome, which is how I ended up searching Japanese blogs for info about those silly pachinko cutscenes that have sparked your question. But in fact, Devilman may very well be what is slowly curing me, since I was so horrified from some of the later official material I've read, not even mitigated by the redeeming virtues of the original manga, that more and more I'm starting to reconsider my stance about having to read and watch *everything* about any particular franchise I get into. I wish I didn't have to learn this the hard way, though... and that I had some brain bleach handy, sigh. Yes, I hate Gō Nagai. Yes, I hate almost all the non-70's Devilman stuff that I've read or watched so far (to the point that I don't know whether to go on or not). Yes, sometimes I wish I could warn my younger self. But historical knowledge is one of the things I value most and, if I hadn't read this foundational title, what sort of pseudo manga fan would I be today? And I love Ryō Asuka to death - don't we all? - along with many future characters and stories by different authors that he paved the way for. These are the two things that I reckon make it worth it to be into something as infuriating and terrifying as Devilman.

[conniescove444]

FROM THE FIRES

Chapter 4: Rock & Roll

Pairing: Sam Kiszka × female!oc

Word Count (this chapter): 3044

Summary: Lana moved to the States a few months ago and has found herself in a small town in Michigan called Frankenmuth. After visiting a local bar on her first night, she begins talking to the bassist of the band that played and by the end of the night she's moved her things into his apartment. This was the last thing she was expecting to happen... but hey, what could go wrong?

(This story is set in 1971 rather than modern day so I've had to play around with some of the bands' story. I've been playing around with this concept for a while and thought it may be interesting considering their vibe is straight out of that era.)

WARNINGS: alcohol use, heavy drug use, tobacco use, sexual content (due to the themes this fic is 18+, please DNI if you are a minor- you will be blocked.)

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Lana scurried around the apartment in the early morning sunlight trying to get herself put together. It was her second shift at the record store and she was still feeling quite nervous. She'd never had a proper job before and while it was definitely an absolute dream compared to working at a grocery store or something like she'd expected, it was still intimidating. Her interview went really well and yesterday she had her first shift, however it was with the owner of the store so that she could be shown exactly what to do and be introduced to everything. Today she was gonna be working it by herself and she had the opening shift so she'd woken up quite early to make sure she was ready in time. She was trying her best not to wake Sam, he'd been up late rehearsing last night and was still fast asleep. On the days where Lana worked, she knew she wasn't gonna see him very much, by the time she would be home he would already be at the studio and once he got back she was getting ready to go to bed.

She was in the bathroom rummaging through one of the drawers to find her hairspray when Sam walked over and leant on the doorway.

"Morning Lanie," she turned around and saw him rubbing his eyes, clearly he'd just rolled out of bed. He had his hair in a messy bun and was only wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms.

"You're up early." she closed the drawer having found what she wanted and took the cap off, spraying it over her freshly curled hair.

Sam coughed lightly and waved his arm to get the fumes away from him, "God I don't know how you're not dying when you're practically spraying that in your face."

She laughed at his reaction, "I've gotta go Sammy, I'll see you tonight." she walked past him with a smile and made her way over to the front door, grabbing her bag on the way.

"Play some Crosby, Stills and Nash in the shop for me." he called after her, returning the smile. She turned around and nodded, giving him a small wave before stepping through the door.

After the short walk, Lana approached the door to the shop, it was a very small building that had been there a long time and looked quite unassuming from the outside. On the inside however were rows and rows of albums. It had a lot of new stock but there was also a section at the back where people could come in and exchange their old unwanted records. Those were the records the staff were allowed to play during their shift. The walls were covered in posters and the place was lit up by different lanterns hanging from the ceiling. There were also beautiful bohemian rugs covering the old hardwood floors. It had a really homely feel and Lana could understand why the group loved it so much.

As she stepped through the door she flipped the sign to open and put her bag on the desk. She then made her way to the back of the store and began flicking through the used albums. A few stood out to her as candidates to play which she picked up for later but she was hoping to come across some CSN like Sam had requested. In the last row of albums she found their debut record and smiled to herself at the sight. She brought her small stack over to the desk and loaded the album onto the turntable behind it.

The day was going by quite slowly, a few customers here and there but for the most part she had the time to herself. At one point she went out the back to light up a joint, it was one she'd made quite weak, mostly tobacco, so that she wasn't completely high on the job. As she was getting back inside she heard the small bell above the door chime, signalling someone had come in. She quickly made her way back to the desk ready to greet them but she was instead met by Lori.

"Can I smell weed?" she said with a fake shock on her face.

"Lori you scared me! The day's been really slow so I wanted a little pick me up." Lana leant on the desk, a little out of breath from trying to get inside so quickly.

"High on the job, so unprofessional," Lori shook her head, scolding her friend in a jokey way, "I would do the same, I'm only teasing... anyway, me and Jake were gonna head to the beach tomorrow but you haven't been yet so we were wondering if you wanted to tag along? I know you love nature 'n stuff so I thought it may be fun."

"I'd love that but I don't wanna third wheel if you guys wanted to spend some time together."

"You're not third wheeling, I invited Mary-Jane too but then Danny told her he was gonna take her out."

"Okay then, as long as you both don't mind me coming. I haven't been to a beach since I was in Cali." The album she was playing had just finished so she turned around to take the vinyl off the spinner as she spoke, "Got any requests for the next album?"

"Hmmm I don't know... lemme go find something." Lori walked over to the records and started looking through. She returned with Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys.

"Classic." Lana said as she took it from her and put it down ready to play. She cleaned off some of the dust before placing the needle down and turning back to her friend, "you fancy staying for a bit? I'm getting pretty lonely and we're getting a new shipment in at any minute- I heard the delivery driver's pretty cute."

"I was about to grab some lunch but you've got my attention now." they both giggled at Lori's response.

"Lunch sounds really nice right now, I haven't eaten all day." Lana took a seat at the stool behind the counter and rested her face in her hands.

"Yeah or you just want some munchies because of the grass."

"Well yeah that too," Lana rubbed her face as she spoke.

"Okay well what do you fancy? I'll go grab something for us."

"I don't mind, I could use some coffee though."

"I know a place, be back in ten." Lori turned and left the store again, walking quite quickly in an attempt to not miss the delivery.

She returned not long after with her arms full of food. The delivery van pulled up at the same time and a guy with long messy blonde hair stepped out.

"You want a hand with that doll?" he took off his sunglasses to look at her when he spoke. He seemed to be a bit older than the girls but one thing was for sure, he was certainly attractive.

"Yeah, thanks hun," she smiled, handed him one of the paper bags she was carrying and opened the door to the shop, the pair walking in and placing the food on the counter. Lana looked up from the magazine she'd begun to look through.

"I take it our delivery is here." she smirked at the blonde.

"Yeah, where'd you want me to put your order sweetheart?" he spoke with a raspy voice and looked the girl up and down.

"Just on the floor down here would be great, I'll give you a hand." Lana moved round from the back of the desk ready to help while Lori took a sip from her drink, eyeing the man carefully.

"No it's okay, don't want either of you to hurt yourselves carrying those heavy boxes." he gave them a wink before heading back out the store to open up the van.

Lori turned to Lana with a smile dancing on her lips, "Wow."

The pair just stood watching him as he walked back in with a box under each arm, setting them down where Lana instructed then brought in a few more. When he was done he went to make his way back out, "If you need any help with anything you have my number, should be in the staff notes." He then put his sunglasses back on and closed the door behind him

"Lana I swear to God if you don't make sure I'm here next time you get a delivery..."

"Hey watch it, what if I wanted to keep him to myself?"

"Tough luck, shouldn't have let me meet him then." the pair giggled a little before turning to the boxes and ripping them open and looking through.

They were putting away the last few albums when Lori turned to look at her friend, "You know, I'm really glad you're sticking around. It's nice having another girl in the group and the guys all love you."

Lana looked up from what she was doing with a small but genuine smile, "That means a lot, I was a bit worried at first, I wasn't sure how you'd all feel about me suddenly being involved in everything. I know you guys are all super close and stuff and then suddenly I was just there as well."

"Awe honey... why'd you think I asked you to join us that first night? You just have this vibe I dunno, me and Janey just knew when we saw you that we needed to talk to you."

"You're just inflating my ego now." Lana looked back down at the records, adding the last one into the row.

"No I mean it though! Seriously… Plus, I know Sam's really enjoying having you around- I've never seen him so happy."

Lana chuckled lightly, "Well that's good to hear considering I live with him."

"I still can't believe you moved in with him so quickly... I mean I'm glad you did but that was brave of you."

Lana walked over to the desk, getting her things together ready to close up, "well you know, I'd been hitchhiking with strangers for days at a time, nothing bad's happened so far."

After closing, the girls went their separate ways and Lana got home in just a few minutes. When she walked through the door she was expecting to be alone but Sam was sat on the sofa, doing seemingly nothing, with his bass in its case on the floor beside him.

"Sammy? I thought you were at the studio, what're you doing?" she put her keys down on the kitchen counter as it was next to the door.

"Yeah... well... I was waiting for you to get back. Don't take your coat off or anything." he picked up his bass and began walking over to the door.

"Huh?" Lana looked at him, confused.

"We want you to sit in on our session. Josh thinks we need a new set of ears." Sam grabbed Lana's keys from the counter and opened the door, grabbing her hand on his way out.

"Oh okay... why me though?"

"You play music, you'll be able to give us advice." he said it as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm not very good. I play for fun, you guys are professional Sam."

"Doesn't matter, you have a good ear." he opened the car door for her. She was sceptical about the whole thing but was just going along with it. He'd stayed back to wait for her after all.

The drive there wasn't as long as Lana was expecting and on the way Sam explained what the band was struggling with. She wasn't sure how much help she would be but she was willing to try. The pair stopped on the way to grab some food and when they got into the studio the guys were all happy to be getting fed. They'd all already been there a few hours and from the smell of weed lingering in the room Lana could guess they hadn't got much work done. "Thanks for coming Lana, I know this isn't ideal for you but we really appreciate it." Josh said, going over to give her a hug.

"That's okay, not sure I'm gonna be much use though."

"I think you will, Sam told us you were a bit of a musician," Jake said, he was sprawled over the couch with a cigarette between his fingers.

"I'm not sure about that." She laughed as she spoke and took a seat next to him, opening up one of the pizza boxes they had brought and taking a slice- most of the guys then did the same. Sam however went into the recording room and sat down at his keyboard, pulling out a crumpled up sheet of paper and placing it down in front of him. He then began to play, completely consumed in what he was doing. Lana finished her pizza slice and lit a cigarette, standing up and walking over to the glass window that separated the rooms to get a better look at what he was doing. Josh then walked over to stand next to her, grabbing her cigarette and taking a drag before handing it back to her.

"He's been hung up on that song all week." Josh said to her quietly.

"It's really beautiful... what's it called?"

"Flower Power. We've been kicking it around for years."

"I really like it." her eyes were fixed on Sam as she spoke. He was so entranced in what he was doing but she could tell he was tired by his demeanour.

"I'm glad. Not sure why he's playing it though, it's not the song we wanted you to hear."

"I don't mind. I could listen to him playing all day, no matter the song."

Jake then walked over too, "Lori called, you're coming to the beach with us tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it." she turned to look at him and gave him a brief smile before turning her attention back to Sam.

"He needs to hurry up, we have work to do." Jake seemed kind of frustrated by the fact his brother wasn't doing what they had planned and he just stood there, arms crossed, with a fed up look plastered on his face. Lana stepped away and walked into the recording room without saying a word. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray sat on top of Sam's keyboard and took a seat next to him on the stool.

"Hey Sammy." she leant her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around him to put her hand on his other shoulder. He continued to play when he spoke back, "Hi Lanie."

"That's beautiful. Is it what you were playing around with the other night at home?"

"Mhm."

"I really love it but I think everyone wants to get on. You wanted me to help you out with another song, right?" she spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Yeah... sorry." he stopped playing and just looked at the keys.

"Come get some food and then we can get on. I wanna go home soon, I'm really tired."

He nodded and stood up, taking her hand and walking back to the rest of the band.

"It's okay Sam, take your time, we have all night." Jake said sarcastically.

"Oh fuck off Jake. You were all eating anyway, I wasn't doing any harm." Sam went over to his coat and pulled a joint out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a deep inhale.

Danny stood up from where he was sitting, he looked really tired. "Let's not fall out. We're all exhausted let's just get on with it."

"Yeah because you've all been working really hard all day getting high." Sam passed the joint to Lana as he spoke.

"We've been writing as well actually." Josh sounded a bit offended.

Sam just rolled his eyes, taking the blunt back and walking back into the recording room, everyone else following too.

Josh stood behind the microphone and spoke to Lana, "We'll play the song for you, when you want to talk to us press the button on that control board in front of you because we can't hear you in here."

She nodded and took a seat by the window.

By the end of the night they had got to the root of their issue, Lana had given a few suggestions and they seemed happy with it. On the drive home, Sam didn't really say much and it was beginning to really bother her.

"What's wrong with you today? You were fine this morning." she looked at him as he was driving but he just kept his eyes fixed on the road.

"I'm still fine."

"Sam."

He didn't respond.

"Have I done something wrong?"

"No it's not you."

"Then what's bothering you? You're not usually like this."

"I'm just fed up with everything. I want this to be perfect and it's just not."

She looked down at her hands, "Sometimes it's just like that. Bands always go back and forth before reaching a point they’re satisfied with. Nothing's ever perfect but I think you guys are pretty close. Just enjoy the ride, you don't need to put so much pressure on yourself."

"Yeah I guess." he briefly looked at her and gave a weak smile.

"I think I know how we can make you feel better when we get home."

"Oh yeah?"

"I think you need a release Sammy."

And with that he put his foot on the pedal even harder.

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A/N: I know a lot of these early chapters aren't the best (I'm ashamed to say I have a Literature qualification.) but I wrote the first ten over only a few days because I was tryna get ideas down. I promise they gradually get better tho so stick with me!!

ALSO all the chapters are named after songs so I'll link a playlist once I have more of this published <3

[ladytauria]

2, 3, 5, 6 (and will you read it in the upcoming year), 10 ,14, 18, 20, 24 y 25!

thank you for asking!!! i had to grab books from last year bc this year was a bad reading year for me, but the questions were/are fun!

2. Did you reread anything? What?

i reread the last unicorn yesterday!!! bc i was feeling nostalgic. i made. a BUNCH more highlights in my kindle. (altho i read my physical copy lol.) there's just... so much good stuff in there, aah.

(oh ik u sent me an ask about this, idk if you saw it--ik tumblr is goofy--but its here! also, minor clarification: it doesn't have a *sequel* but there's a pair of novellas, released as one book, that are set in the same world!)

3. What were your top five books of the year?

i. didn't read very much this year at all. (er, published books! i did read a ton of fanfic). the beginning of this year was exTREMELY stressful, and in the latter half, all the books i started just. failed to grab me :/

that said!! i met my reading goal last year, so i will just include those!!

One of the books I did read this year was The Cybernetic Tea Shop by Meredith Katz, a v cute novella about a mechanic & an android. It's set a few centuries in the future, where robotics have advanced significantly. Intelligent AI were banned a long time ago, but those few whose bodies have not eroded / code hasn't corrupted are allowed to remain. The android in the fic runs a Tea Shop, which she inherited from her long-deceased lover <3 (The book is also sappic! I would love to read more of Katz's work.

Also, like I said, I reread The Last Unicorn, which I think would be on a top 5 in general for me, if I were ever to attempt to narrow that down xD. The prose in this book is beautiful; there are so many lovely lines. And the themes in the book--the play of mortality vs immortality, the structure of fairy tales & how the ppl in this setting are v much bound by them--are present from the very beginning, which was a fun thing to pick up on during my reread xD

All Systems Red by Martha Wells! I read a lot of sci-fi last year for some reason? Anyway, I adored this. Murderbot is a fascinating pov character & I love the choices Wells makes with it. My only gripe is that I could not immediately go out and buy the rest of the series.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger!!! this was. so cute. It's YA, I think? Yes, okay, Storygraph confirms this. The writing is lovely, and I adore the main character and the story! One thing you see a lot of--or, actually, I guess I should say I see a lot of--in YA is like. The rebellion against authority figures? Parents are often antagonists, and I understand why this is, but it was very refreshing that in this book Elatsoe's parental/adult figures were so present & involved & like. There was this mutual respect between them that I adored. Also, she can talk to ghosts? And solves her cousin's murder by doing so! And she has a ghost dog. What's not to love?? (Oh, and she's ace, which I think I remember her mentioning explicitly! Also, the way Native culture is threaded through the book is just. Lovely.)

Am. Am I already at 5. How did. How did I get to 5 already 🥺 *kicks foot* Okay. I. Would not be me. If I didn't mention Nona the Ninth. The only reason I didn't rec the Locked Tomb series to you is bc you mentioned not wanting sci-fi, and while there are a lot of fantasy elements, it is. Very sci-fi. Anyway. I admit that I was not enthused about going into this book. Nona was originally going to be a novella, released between Harrow & Alecto, and when I heard it was getting full novel status I was. Kind of not happy. But oh my god. It was so good. The first half, or maybe even 2/3rds, of the book is very slice-of-life, with Nona going to school & planning her birthday party (despite being only 6mo old). You can tell there is more Plot happening, but Nona is v much oblivious and also being kept out of it. And then the last half/3rd is Plot-Plot-Plot. And my god. That ENDING. Alecto can't get here soon enough, I'm. I need it. I need it. OH. Okay, no, I was right when I said half bc this book is the first split POV, in that every other chapter / every couple chapters is narrated by Jod. (The God Emperor, John Gaius) while he tells his story. It was fascinating, I thought I would hate those chapters, but he is. Such a compelling antagonist, omg. Also there were more memes uwu. First book I ever annotated along with as I was reading, too!! I---

Stopping. Cutting myself off. Sorry; these books make me gush.

5. What genre did you read the most of?

Normally the answer to this is fantasy, but! I think Sci-Fi won out <3

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

Yes! Both last year and this year I meant to read some of my spooky-ish books for October and did not. Specifically! I meant to read:

Carmilla & Laura by S.D. Simper -> I have so many of Simper's books on my kindle, but this one is a standalone, which I've been prioritizing so I don't go buy more books w/o reading the ones I have. This is a re-telling, which I was going to read with / around the copy of the original that I have.

Plain Bad Heroines - Emily M. Danforth -> I believe this is told in a dual timeline? After three people are killed at a girls' boarding school, it closes its doors. Over a century later, a bestselling book is written about the girls and inspires a horror-film adaptation, filmed on-site. And I'm just going to use the last line of the goodreads blurb, bc it makes me want to read it now: But as Brookhants opens its gates once again, and our three modern heroines arrive on set to begin filming, past and present become grimly entangled—or perhaps just grimly exploited—and soon it’s impossible to tell where the curse leaves off and Hollywood begins.

My Dearest Darkest by Kayla Cottingham -> One of the books I did start. I'm 9% in. It's a YA novel, also set at a boarding school. A group of girls accidentally summon an eldritch horror who promises to grant their every desire... for a price, which becomes steeper and steeper as time goes on.

The Lost Girls by Sonia Hartl -> Also YA! I got this one recently. A vampire turned by her boyfriend ends up falling for his latest victim, while plotting with his other exes to kill him.

There are a lot more I'm carrying into next year, but I am most disappointed in not getting to those!

Oh, and the Priory of the Orange Tree. (I'm. 20% through. This one is a Beast!!)

10. What was your favorite new release of the year?

I don't buy a lot of new releases for cost reasons---these days most of my books are purchased through ThriftBooks or eBook sales (I am subbed to a few sites which notify you of deals; my favorite of which is BookBub). However! I had Nona pre-ordered <3 So. Nona.

14. What books do you want to finish before the year is over?

any of them.

going into the new year with only 2 books read last/this year makes me very sad 🥺

18. How many books did you buy?

i plead the fifth

also i have no clue

20. What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations?

gotta go with Nona. i was a weird mix of both unenthused (bc this was supposed to be kind of a side novella) and enthused (bc i love this series and i wish i could do what Tamsyn Muir does) but it not only met but surpassed my expectations. Nona was... Nona's identity was a core mystery of the book; she was, more or less, a brand new character who never showed up in the previous two books, so i was. skeptical of going in, let alone to her pov.

but.

it was so good.

i. already gushed about it. i'm not. i'm not going to do it again.

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

think i might be DNFing The Bookshop & the Barbarian. love the premise but i've noticed. a few issues in the text.

one i have def for sure DNF'd is Alma Katsu's The Deep. her books are horror + historical fiction. i finished The Hunger (which follows the Donner Party) but it was. very much a slog. i didn't like most of the characters, the horror was there but the reveal was lackluster to me. it got 3 stars tho bc it was very much a "this book isn't bad, just not for me" type of read? (there was an aspect i did like / even found kind of funny, but i--- hm. ig if you go in not knowing like, the names of the party members it would be a spoiler to say it, but otherwise i guess its... not a spoiler? idk??? i dunno, there was a subversion that i loved, but also i'm not super familiar with the specificities of the Donner Party so it may not have even been a subversion, if her telling was that accurate? i realize this is vague. apologies.)

The Deep is supposed to be abt the Titanic which. i love the Titanic, and i love ocean horror (it's a close second to arctic horror for me, and one day i want to find a book that scratches the same itch as The White Vault podcast does). but i realized early on that it wasn't a match for me, and i wish i had DNF'd The Hunger as well.

25. What reading goals do you have for next year?

my reading goals are the same every year---26 books. that's a book every other week! originally i used to set it to 52 but i've had too many bad reading years.

my secondary reading goal is to cut my TBR (of books i own) in half. i don't. i don't want to admit how many that is bc. just looking at the number on my kindle makes me feel bad.