#cannot stop touching the waves. the texture...!

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 22.4k (please take your time while reading this)

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, mentions of vomit, drinking, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, sexual tension, smut, a lot of it (i won't spoil it)

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You realize what you're feeling for Eddie, and your relationship finally shifts, as you finally let go. You finally let yourself go.

A/N: This chapter... took it's time... Its long, but IT'S WORTH IT I PROMISE. I hope you all take your time to read it, and enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it so and I hope the feelings I tried to put into words can be felt through the screen.

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!

PART 6

You felt like you were floating on air.

Your limbs were completely relaxed, your muscles felt as if they were gelatin on your body, and you were warm. Slowly gaining back your consciousness as you stirred slightly in bed, groaning as you stretched your arm forward, over the comforters that were hugging your body tightly, providing you with their heat. 

Slowly, your senses started coming back, touch first, feeling the soft texture of the comforter, hugging it tightly against you. But then, your sense of smell came back, picking up a sweet scent. A sweet yet manly scent. And that’s when your hearing came back, soft snores that were very close to you, extremely. So your eyes shot open.

And your sense of sight came back.

Eddie’s face was facing yours, but he was still asleep, comforter over his body as well and your heart and breathing stopped. The tension came back to your muscles in an instant, as you felt your stomach begin to contract in itself, and your fingertips became cold from the nervousness, from the overwhelming realization of what happened yesterday.

Oh god, yesterday.

He caressed you, and you let him. He kissed you, and you let him. He touched you, and you let him. He made you feel good, and you let him. You let your friend touch you. You let a friend touch you in a way that only happens intimately, only because you were curious. You took a sharp intake of breath to forbid yourself from screaming as nausea invaded your stomach.

You needed to get out. How can you face him? How can you possibly face him after he– Your head began to spiral, maniacally. Your legs shifted and your eyes widened when you felt your wetness still there, having not changed or cleaned yourself from what happened last night. Another wave of embarrassment washed over you remembering you fell asleep on him. 

You didn’t even return the favor.

You felt your body heat up at the thought because you didn’t even know if you should have. He did it by his own accord, didn’t he? He just wanted to help you, that’s it, that was it. But, oh god, you moaned. You let your voice out, he heard you moan, without any restraint and– Your blood immediately left your system as you kept remembering the night before.

You moaned his name. 

You had to immediately leave. Your body and your heart cannot take it. You ruined it, everything is ruined, there is no turning back from this. There is no way you can see him eye to eye any longer, because friends don’t do this. No matter how much you are burning at the moment, you can’t take a friend’s help as an advantage. You are despicable, you are horrible, and there’s no way Eddie would forgive you for it.

You looked at Eddie’s face again and you stopped your movements and thoughts. You focused on his steady breaths as soft snores came out from his mouth, which was just partially open. His eyelashes are long, and some strands of his hair were on his face. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest again as you stared at him. His arm was draped over his head, and you could see the tattoos all over his skin. 

Your hand unconsciously reached out and your fingertips touched his bicep, finding the part of the tattoo sleeve where a dragon lays. You were entranced by his art as you looked all over it, mentally taking screenshots of every single trace. You looked back at his face and your hand immediately shifted towards him, your nails gracing his cheek, gently, and you took one of the strands of his hair out of his face.

You felt your face heat up watching him. You won’t deny, ever, that he is gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and not once in your life you thought you would be able to touch someone like him in this way. Not even in your wildest dreams. Yet, it was so easy with him, talking to him, touching him, even kissing him. 

Your fingertips suddenly went to his bottom lip, softly gracing it with your index finger, feeling his hot breath hitting your skin, and you licked your lips not really noticing your movements. You just felt like touching him, and the burning started happening once more. Why was it happening? Why is the heat there? 

But your brain was not cooperating with your body right now. There was a growing need as your fingertip felt the plushness of his lip, a need to taste him again, a need to get closer again, get his arms around you, tightly, holding you and feel yourself tremble against him once more. You wanted more. It seems that’s the only word that is persistent in your head when you’re with Eddie.

More. More. More.

Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t it ever enough? What more can you want? He is your friend, what else could be there that you wanted? And why just him? Why didn’t you feel this heat with Steve or Billy? Why didn’t you feel it with Austin? Why haven’t you been feeling it for every man you crossed paths with since you met Eddie? You had talked to men, be it at the grocery shop, or at a cafe, men working there, or simply greeting you. 

But it’s only with Eddie that you feel this unbearable heat, these flames that just spread like wildfire everytime he touches you, even with just a brush of hands. You can’t remember a time you felt this way for someone else, this hunger that you can’t satiate no matter how much you wait for it to go away.

Your eyes darted downwards, where his pelvic area would be and you gulped heavily as you remembered the night before again. You felt him, and you had enjoyed rubbing yourself on him, even if he didn’t know you were doing it consciously. Your breath picked up as you felt an impulse in your chest, wanting it to move your hand, wanting to explore. Not just his lips, but his shoulders, his bare chest, his back, his legs, and then–

You felt a sharp small pain in your fingertip, making you wince, completely taking you out of your trance and thoughts, out of the cloud that was in your mind, and your eyes darted up again as your hand moved away by instinct only to see brown eyes staring right back at you, and your blood drained once again, as the heat immediately was dampened with a cold bucket of ice water.

“Was I drooling or something?” He questioned with a hoarse morning voice that instantly went to your belly, knotting it up, and your hairs stood on end, embarrassment filling your chest and your brain immediately triggered the flight mode. You immediately threw the comforter off your body, moving away from him, and sitting up quickly. 

Your breathing quickened as you shot up from the bed, only for your limbs to feel like jelly, and you tumbled slightly, Eddie’s eyes widening as he saw the panic setting in your body. He really wished he was the first one to wake up today, because he knew you would probably have a lot of thoughts in your head, just racing uncontrollably. He sat up as you started stammering in your words, looking for your jacket, not realizing in your haze of a panic that it was downstairs.

“I-I should– I should go! I– what– yesterday–” Eddie got up from the bed, wearing the same clothes as last night. After you fell asleep on him, he had moved you so he could lay you on his bed, pulling the comforter over you. He had thought of dressing himself for sleep, but he was afraid you would feel even weirder with him having changed into comfortable clothes when you didn’t have the chance. 

He opted to go to the bathroom real quick to wash his hands and relieve himself, to then come back to his room and then he nestled inside of the bed as well, seeing you sleeping peacefully next to him, and just like you did to him this morning, he had traced your face with his fingers, softly and gently, remembering every twitch your face did.

Last night does feel like a lucid dream to him, and he really cannot believe you had let him touch you like that. He couldn’t believe you had let him touch you in a way he’s been craving for a month now. At first he tried to dismiss it, but now he really can’t deny that everything with you is different, so different. He was changing too, not that you knew about it, nobody knew this change in him.

Now, he knew that a line had been crossed, and that you realize that too, and you’re freaking out about it. He doesn’t want the relationship to be different, but he feared that maybe it was too straightforward to do that to you last night. But he just needed to touch you, he absolutely needed to, and he can’t lie to himself and say he doesn’t want more, because hell, he wants so much more.

But right now,

“Angel, look at me.” He rushed to your side as you kept your gaze down, your panicked eyes trying to look anywhere but him. You shouldn’t have let last night happen, because what if he felt obliged to do that with you? What if he pitied you so badly that he felt like doing it? You can’t bear that embarrassment, not with Eddie.

“I-I’m sorry– I’m your friend and–” You stutter out, feeling the air in your lungs slowly fading as you feel your heart beating in your throat. How were you going to look at him? What does this all mean? Friends don’t do the thing you did yesterday, did they? Your head is a mess, and you just want to run away. 

“Yes, you’re my friend, and sweetheart, yesterday was–” He clenched his eyes tightly, the words in his mouth stinging like a thousand needles on it. “I wanted to let you know that there is nothing wrong with you. You can feel good with someone.”

He was in front of you now as you stood in the middle of his bedroom, still staring at the ground, blinking at his words. Did he read your mind yesterday? How easy are you to read? But what you are failing to notice is that it’s just Eddie the one who can read you like this. He loves that fact. Just as he knows how you’re feeling right now, knowing you need reassurance that everything is okay, even if inside of him there was a storm, wanting to yell that he wanted to actually touch you. He wanted to feel you, hear you, hold you and kiss you, all of it. 

“I– Is…” The lump in your throat made you sound so little, so weak, but you had to make sure, because losing Eddie felt like losing a part of yourself now. The thought felt like a punch to the gut, and you didn’t want it to happen, but how does everything go back to how it was?

“Darling, breathe.” His arms were reaching out to you but not touching you, which you didn’t know if you appreciated or not. Your body was burning with anticipation, but anticipation for what? What exactly were you anticipating? Your head doesn’t know, but when you see his hands, the memory of last night comes back again, but not in a way that makes you want to run away. It is rather making you want to lean closer, let him touch you, graze his skin on yours.

You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes as you put your palms over your face, completely ashamed for what had transpired last night, but you also felt guilty. Guilty for liking it. Guilty for not regretting it. Guilty for desiring. Guilty for wanting more. Why does this hunger and this fire not satiate? Why is it lingering there? Why doesn’t it go away?

But Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to run away. He wasn’t kicking you out, and in fact he wanted to talk to you, which made your brain slow down, even for a second, trying to register that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he didn’t want you to go away either.

“I… Eddie– Yesterday–” 

“It’s okay, look at me…” Could you even do that? Your stomach was twirling, almost in nausea as you even imagined the look in his eyes. Suddenly, you felt your wrists being grabbed, gently, very carefully, and it made you jump slightly. The skin where he was touching was burning, but your heart was so grateful for it, and everything became steady, after feeling like the room was spinning on its axis.

He gulped nervously, taking a step closer to you. The only thing in his mind right now, is for you to be okay. He only wants you to be okay, and for you to be able to look at him. He needed you to look at him again, his heart was aching for it, and his gut was contracting in itself each second you didn’t look up. 

So, he was greedy again, guiding you to slowly pull your hands down, uncovering your face, and he cursed at himself for wanting to pull you in, wanting to hold you in his arms but he has to be patient. He wants you, but he has to do it right. You’re not just anybody. 

Not anymore.

“Look at me Angel… It’s just me.” Your bottom lip shook slightly out of nervousness, but you complied, slowly driving your eyes up. First on his black shirt, then his collar and neck, to then finally land on his brown eyes which were looking at you intensely, with worry, same as yours. You had expected your body to flinch away, to run away even more so than before, but it did the entire opposite. Your body relaxed, your gut turned but it was not nauseating as before, and your brain went blank as he gazed down at you. 

You got lost in his eyes, trying to find the regret of what happened last night, trying to find the slight bit of discomfort, but there was none. There was just reassurance, looking at you like he always did, talking to you like he always did, and that made your body lose some of its tension, Eddie noticing it instantly.

“I– I don’t want everything to be weird– I really don’t want to…” Your eyes were teary now, making Eddie’s heart clench as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly from the emotions he was feeling at seeing you like this. His lips curved up in a soft smile, and he shook his head once.

“It isn’t going to be weird… I wanted to show you that there was nothing wrong with you, and I just– I just wanted to help you learn about yourself, help you trust in your body and sensations.” He wanted to chop his tongue off. He helped you, yes, but he wanted to tell you that he liked it too, even if untouched, he loved it, and if you asked, he would do it again. 

“I–” You felt yourself heat up as embarrassment and shame invaded your mind. “I didn’t… I didn’t do…” You gazed down again, not wanting to look at his face. You didn’t even reciprocate anything to him, you just fell asleep right on his shoulder after he made you feel so blissful, after he made you see stars, after he made you tremble for the first time in the hands of someone else.

Eddie’s heart soared as he listened to you, as he saw that you cared, that you indeed thought about him and how he was feeling. He didn’t even expect you to think about giving something back to him, and his body relaxed as he melted towards you, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to slowly rise up towards your cheek. You didn’t even flinch, but you actually pressed your face slightly onto his fingers, at his touch.

“I didn’t expect it. I didn’t want anything back Angel… I was just caring for you last night, okay?” He did want, but he wasn’t going to say that to you. At least not now, because that is not what you needed. Yet, in your head, there was a question that fell at the tip of your tongue at his words. You looked up at him, locking eyes with him again,  but your mouth didn’t open to voice out what you wanted to ask.

Did he not want anything back because he really didn’t expect it from you, or because he didn’t actually want YOU to give anything back to him?

The thought made your skin grow goosebumps, mind whirling at the thought of some type of rejection. Why did you feel like that? Why did you feel like he just said something hurtful to you? Why did you suddenly feel unwanted? Undesired? 

“And… And us? Does this… make everything–” His palm was now resting on your cheek as he stared down at you, the smile still on his lips, very small, subtle, but yet so emotional and caring, that it made your heart jump at the sight.

“It doesn’t make it awkward… I promise… Which reminds me–” He put his hand down and your other wrist was let go of, making you almost sigh at the loss of contact, wanting to gravitate towards him again. “I don’t think our private dances from yesterday should go unpaid, and as I recall, you make the best fucking pancakes ever, and I’m dying for a chocolate chip one.” 

The tension left your shoulders as he talked, a small smile spreading on your lips, watching him straight up with his arms over his chest. You copied his stance, squinting up at him in defiance which made him raise his eyebrows up, hiding behind some of his messy fringe.

“I believe I never actually ASKED for those dances. You guys were very greedy for just one dollar.” You say and he glared down at you before shooting his arm up, poking you on the side, causing you to flinch and giggle, the butterflies exploding in your stomach, and again, they were not on the nauseating side.

“You make some pancakes or…” You raised a questioning eyebrow at his words.

“Or?”

“I’ll start saying mistaken facts about Harry Potter. Like, for example, Harry Potter and the prisoner of alcatraz was a masterpiece.” You winced at the mistaken title, but you knew he was doing it on purpose. He had let you rant talking about Harry Potter for one whole evening through a video call. He just started asking questions to you, and you didn’t even know that he did that just to hear you talk.

He loved hearing you talk when you were excited, when you were confident in the topic, when you were passionate and loving about it, but he also loved the fact that you cared for his interests too. So one day was Harry Potter, and the next day was Dungeons and Dragons. He had explained to you as easily as possible but you were learning pretty quickly and you retained information like a champ. 

And as he liked to hear you talk, you liked to hear him.

“Okay, I’ll make the pancakes, so shut up.” You say to him with a shake of your head and he grinned widely at you, knowing he got away with what he wanted, which weren’t the pancakes. He got you to loosen up again, and when you turned around to open the door, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, soft and you weren’t able to hear it. 

You tiptoed out of the room, followed by Eddie and you immediately heard the loud snoring from the living room. You giggled while looking back at him and he was just smiling, shaking his head. You walked down the stairs, as quietly as you could, and you saw Robin, now looking up, splayed on the floor over the fluffy carpet as Steve used her tummy as a pillow, in the position of a starfish. 

You covered your mouth as you approached them, trying to hold in the laughter. Eddie was next to you after a second, having retrieved his phone from the kitchen counter, and he pulled up the camera to take a picture of the two people on the floor. He was going to keep this and show his brother, because the little shit idolized Steve for a reason, and he never knew why.

He wanted to break that enchantment.

“I bet they’ll wake up at the smell of food.” You whisper and he smirks, shaking his head.

“Steve needs a bucket of ice water to wake up from a hangover.” You grinned and turned your head to look at him, biting your bottom lip. Eddie had to hold back from swallowing, the blood rushing south immediately.

“Wanna bet?”

“A dollar.” He put his hand inside his front pocket and took out the wrinkled dollar you stuffed in there last night. The memory came back like a flash, making you flush all over as the butterflies turned into hungry wolves.

“Deal.” You immediately turned around, trying to hide away from him, but he had already seen your reaction. His chest puffed with hope as he followed you towards the kitchen, and he was next to you in a second, helping you get everything for the pancakes. 

Then, the scene turned quite domestic, and normal. Way too normal, and easy, as if it were a puzzle just putting itself together in a perfect match. You beat the eggs, he preheated the pan, he poured the flour in, then mixed for you to start making your batch of pancakes, sprinkling the chocolate chips on top. 

“You had to put the chocolate chips inside the batter.” Eddie growled as you shook your head at his whine. You flipped your pancake and looked to your side and up at him.

“Last time I prepared them like this and you didn’t complain.” You say to him, and you remember that afternoon almost everyday. You came with Robin because Steve invited her over, and said that if you wanted to join, that it was okay. You didn’t have any other plans, and the thought of probably seeing Eddie urged you to come over. 

Twenty minutes after your arrival, Eddie and Billy stumbled inside the apartment, groaning as they complained they hadn’t eaten anything for the past 3 hours, and dancing was not helping them. So Robin, sweet Robin, thought it was a great idea to tell them that you prepared killer pancakes.

You cooked 22 pancakes that afternoon.

“It’s because I didn’t see you making them. I was showering and getting myself pretty and presentable.” He says with a teasing smile on his face and you shake your head, putting one of the last pancakes on the plate. 

“Steve, get the fuck up, I smell pancakes.” You grinned widely at Robin’s voice, looking back over your shoulder, Eddie following your motion, putting his fist over his mouth to hold in his laughter as Robin pushed Steve off her and the poor man groaned almost in pain as he sat up. His hair was completely messed up, and Robin’s wasn’t far behind. They had two bird’s nests on their heads.

“Morning.” Eddie says and you look at him, putting your hand out. He raised an eyebrow up at you.

“Pay up.” You say and he scoffs, shaking his head at you.

“I don’t think so. Robin woke up, then made Steve wake– Oh.” You smirked up at him and he bit his bottom lip, yet a smile was on his face as he looked down at you. He definitely felt the change. The bantering before was light hearted, but now, there was this hidden elastic band that was stretching out, slowly, further and further.

“Exactly.” You drifted your eyes towards his lips, just for a second, and then back at his eyes. You were feeling it still, that pooling heat at the bottom of your belly, trying to tell you something which you weren’t sure of. He put his hand into his front pocket again, and slapped the bill on top of your hand. 

“This seems rigged, sweetheart.” He whispered towards you as he put his face closer to yours, glaring at you in a playful manner. Something took over you, something that snapped in your gut, in your mind, a sense of confidence that you never felt before, leaning towards him as well, your face closer to his.

His eyes went wide as you got closer, the tension suddenly rising in between the both of you, not expecting you to mimic his movements at all, but his heartbeat was on his ears, his throat going dry as your breath mixed with his, and he felt the palms on his hands sweating, almost heavily.

“I just outsmarted you.” You leaned back, putting batter onto the pan again, looking as if you hadn’t just turned Eddie into a mess, his mind reeling at how close you got by your own accord, his blood burning into his veins as he kept staring at you, completely dazed. 

Did you even know you did that?

“I need a fucking Advil, or something to end my suffering.” You hear Steve grumpily say with a huff. Eddie snapped out, looking over at his friend, who was now sitting on the couch with an arm over his eyes, probably to avoid the intense light from pouring through his eyelids. He sighed, passing behind you but his greediness got the best of him, and he decided to test the waters.

He put his hands in the small of your back and hips, gently, to push you forward so he could walk between you and the counter, even if he had enough space to do so, but he just needed to touch you. You stiffened slightly, shivers being sent to the tip of your toes, a wave of flames engulfing your entire body as he passed behind you.

And you didn’t see it, but a smirk formed on his lips as he walked away from you.

You took a sharp intake of breath, looking at his broad back, going into the bathroom to probably look for some Advil at Steve’s request. You knew your breath had quickened and that your heart was tugging at your chest, trying to move you towards him, but your thoughts were cut off by Robin who rested her chin onto your right shoulder, looking down at the pan.

“It’s burning.” Your eyes widened, looking at the pancake and flipping it over quickly, and Robin had been right. It was almost black on the other side. You groaned as you heard some steps coming down the stairs. 

“Morning.” You heard Billy say, Robin lifting her head up to look at him, giving him a nod and hoarse ‘morning’ only for her eyes to turn at Eddie’s return and hearing the pill bottle in his hand and a glass of water on the other. He walked towards Steve and Robin followed right behind, trying to snatch the pill bottle from Eddie.

You tipped the last pancake onto the plate, grimacing at it with disgust at the failure as Billy stood next to you, getting hold of it, taking a rough bite making your eyes widen at him.

“Billy, it’s hot!” You say to him with worried eyes and he blows the smoke out up at the ceiling. He swallowed after three bites and shook his head with a wince.

“I just needed food, my stomach is a fucking mess.” You sighed, turning off the heat and putting all the utensils you used in the sink to wash. You grabbed the sponge as you began cleaning, Billy still next to you as he kept eating the burnt pancake. “At least I don’t have a headache like those two.”

You turned your head to see Eddie sighing heavily as he rubbed Steve’s back while sitting next to him, Robin slumped on the arm chair, staring at the ceiling, and Eddie probably trying to make him swallow his vomit, making you wince in disgust again and turn your attention back to the dishes. If Steve barfed, you didn’t really want to see it.

“That’s what you all get for drinking too much.” You say to Billy, which made him chuckle, finishing the pancake that was in his hands. 

“Did you have fun last night?”

You almost dropped the bowl onto the sink at the words that came out of his mouth. Your body went stiff, feeling a cold sweat all over, as your belly turned with nervousness and embarrassment. Did he know? Did he hear? 

“I– Uh…”

“I mean, did you forget about your awful date? You were laughing so I assumed you did.” You gave a sigh out of relief, returning to clean the bowl in your hand. He was talking generally, making your shoulders lose the stiffness once more.

“Yeah, I had fun. Thank you.” You gave him a smile as he took the last piece of pancake into his mouth, and nodded at you, grabbing the plate with a stack of those delicious chocolate chip pancakes you made, heading over towards the group. 

You continued cleaning the utensils which weren’t a lot, to then dry your hands, walking towards them, catching Eddie as he stuffed his face with the third pancake in a row. Steve was looking at him with disgust but Billy was trying to coarse a piece into his mouth. Robin was pitifully eating one, groaning at each bite. 

You grabbed one of your pancakes, and even if the space between the armrest and him was little, you walked towards it, sitting in between. Eddie scooched a little bit, fighting back the grin that wanted to spread on his lips. You, once again, came to him. He bumped his knee against yours as he munched on his pancake, and you reciprocated, bumping it back. 

You giggled as Steve kept trying to push Billy’s pancake away, and the blonde finally gave up, eating the pancake himself, flipping Steve off as he walked to get some water for himself in the kitchen. You finished your breakfast and looked at Robin who was still groaning, her hangover taking all over her body and you sighed.

“We should go. Robin might vomit all over if we stay here a minute longer.” You say, trying to not let your voice sound desperate to stay. Desperate to be here a little bit longer. Desperate to stay with him, just one more minute. You look at Eddie and he sighs, giving you a nod.

“Yeah, Stevie here is not looking good either… Seriously, what did you guys drink last night? Poison?”

“Definitely.” Steve says and he regrets it the minute he does, because opening his mouth made the breath intake swirl in his stomach, and he immediately shot up from his place, rushing towards the bathroom to finally hurl everything out of his system. Eddie, Billy and you shared a look and then at Robin.

“Please, take me home.” Robin says and you nod, getting up from the couch and heading over to put on your heels, and your jacket. Eddie got up as well, holding in a breath at the sight of your legs in the morning light that's shining through the blinds. 

Legs that trembled under his touch last night.

“Come on Robs.” You walked over to her, both of your purses on one hand while the other stretched towards her. She groaned but grabbed it either way and you pulled her up, and she almost knocked you over as she stumbled forward. Eddie was behind you in a heartbeat, pressing his front on your back, as you pushed Robin on steady feet.

“Whoa, the last thing I need is a trip to the hospital today.” You hear him say behind you, and his hands were pressing on your arms, holding you, and your belly wanted to scream, tell him to keep holding you, or yell at him to move his hands, to satiate the hunger.

More.

You pulled away from him when you saw Robin almost falling again and you rushed to her side, pulling her arm over your shoulder. All the heat was gone in an instant as worry flashed in your face, Steve’s vomiting echoing in the room and you felt Robin’s body tense as she gagged and you gasped, looking at Eddie alarmingly.

“We need to go, I will babysit Robin all day.” You say to him and he nods, rushing towards the door to hold it open for you.

“I’ll push the button for the lobby, go before she paints the walls green Angel.” You give him a nod as Robin lurches forward, another gag rushing through her body and you winced, walking towards the door. The ache in your belly reappeared as you looked at him again. Your lips were tingling, and you cursed the fact that you had to hold Robin up because you just wanted to hug him goodbye, or kiss his cheek. 

“I’ll– I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You say but don’t move from your place, almost as if waiting for something. His features softened as he gulped a nervous lump in his throat, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead, very fast, soft, yet burning as if he lingered there for a while.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.” You were stuck to the ground, your heart not wanting to move as you looked at him, and the only thing that made you return to your senses, was Robin’s gagging once more. You groaned as you walked out and headed towards the elevator, which was gladly already at your floor. 

Eddie gave you a small wave and you returned it with a smile, finally disappearing into the elevator, the doors closing as Eddie closed the one of his apartment. He heard Steve again, and he wondered how much more he had in his stomach, because it felt never ending.

With a sigh, he walked towards the fridge, getting the water out to fill a glass for himself, and one for Steve. Billy was eating a pancake next to him, his hip resting against the counter, and Eddie froze, putting the water bottle on the counter, his head slowly turning to look at Billy.

“Weren’t you sleeping on the couch last night?” Billy nodded and then shrugged, looking at the pancake in his hand.

“Got up in the middle of the night, wanted to sleep on my bed.” His blue eyes finally looked up at Eddie’s, a pair of shocked brown orbs staring at his friend’s face as if he were a ghost. Billy smirked, taking a bite out of his pancake again, grabbing the glass of water for Steve, walking behind Eddie to head to the toilet, but not before he whispered into his ear the same question he asked you before.

“Did you have fun last night?”

You took off your work headphones, finally finishing the meeting and work for the day. You sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. It had been some heavy days of work, but gladly you had asked for two days off, one being tomorrow, Thursday, and then Friday, giving you an extended weekend.

You stood up from your chair, turning the laptop off, shutting the top, and finally taking a deep breath. You smiled as you walked towards your kitchen, getting a glass and your bottle of wine. It was already opened, so you just took the cork off and poured yourself until it was halfway full. 

Austin talked to you this afternoon, asking for a second date. You didn’t even hesitate when you declined it politely. It was hard to do so, asking Robin for advice on how to do it, but being honest was the best option. You told him you just didn’t feel it that way, and he kindly understood or that’s what you could read from the texts on the work chat.

If he was mad, he didn’t show it.

You took a sip out of your glass as your phone vibrated and you looked down at it to see Eddie sending you a direct message on Instagram. Probably a meme. You smiled slightly at it, but then it immediately fell and you took a large sip out of your glass this time, as you felt the knots in your belly turning at his message, but there was also some sort of frustration behind it.

At first you didn’t know why you felt it. Sunday he had messaged you about his lunch and what he was going to wear for work that night. Monday, he video called you to tell you that he bought a new expansion for his DnD game, while he wore a tight turtleneck. Tuesday, he was excitedly telling you about his uncle Wayne coming to visit soon, and how Eddie wants you to meet him. And now, today, he’s been sending you memes all day, as if nothing ever happened between you two.

And that was what was driving you insane.

You had almost ripped your brain cells trying to figure out what was happening or why you felt this way, wanting to tell Robin but for some reason you just wanted to keep this to yourself. This is a very confusing feeling, not knowing what is happening, and much less towards a friend.

But you also wondered why Eddie had been so nonchalant about all of this, about everything, and you couldn’t help but want that shift that you felt on Sunday morning. The soft touches that weren’t always there, the small playful bantering, and the closeness. God, the closeness. You shivered every time you remembered his skin on yours, his lips on yours, on your neck, which you noticed as soon as you left Robin at her apartment that you had a few marks on there, very subtle, but still there. 

They were now gone, and you found yourself mourning those marks. Did he want to mark you again? Would he touch you again? Kiss you again? Make you feel good again? And even so, you didn’t feel embarrassed or nervous about that situation anymore, because it was replaced with an anxious feeling, with a feeling of anticipation, with a feeling of ‘What will happen next? Will there be a next time like this?’.

And after your night with Eddie, you found the burning even more unbearable than before, and electric shocks were added into it too. You tried, you really tried to make yourself feel good just like he showed you, but every time you closed your eyes, the memory of his fingers came back, as well as the kissing on your neck, and not even a vibrator could compare. 

Your thoughts were cut off when your phone started vibrating wildly, and you looked over to see Eddie calling you through video. Butterflies exploded in your belly, nervousness filling you up and you cursed at yourself for not putting on a single gram of make up today. You glanced at your reflection in your toaster, wincing as you fixed your hair a bit, putting some strands in front of your face. It was all you could do.

You grabbed your phone and slid on the screen to answer Eddie’s call. His head popped up, his curls tight on a bun on top of his head and you could only see from the bridge of his nose, and up, as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down onto the camera, making you snort, looking away from the screen. You heard him laugh as he pulled the phone away from him, showing his entire face to you.

“Hello there Angel.” You heard his voice and your eyes immediately found his through the communication device, seeking him out again as your pet name was said.

“Hi Eddie. What are you doing?” You asked and he shrugged, giving you an offended fake look.

“I can’t call my favorite girl in the whole world just cause I feel like it?” His favorite girl in the world. His girl. You knew you blushed at those words, giving a huff as you looked towards the glass on your counter and distract yourself from the aching heat that was already beginning to spread. You held onto the glass and took a sip of it, putting it down to look back at him.

“I bet you could have texted me about it.” You didn’t deny his advance at you. In fact, you didn’t deny any of the advances he did on you this week. Showing you what he was going to wear for the night at the club? Putting on a tight turtleneck that would surely show off his pecs to you? Tell you he wanted you to meet his Uncle? He knew it was selfish, and he knew it was risky, but you had actually shown reciprocation that made him smile in victory. You were very brief with his work clothes selection, making small ‘hms’ and ‘that’s good’ as if you were not liking what you were seeing. You complimented him on his black turtleneck, telling him it looked great on him and that he should wear it more often. And then, you told him you couldn’t wait to meet his uncle, so that’s why today, Eddie, has reached a boiling point.

“I thought a call would be quicker, sorry for interrupting your lonely drinking session.” He jokingly replied to you which made you roll your eyes. He licked his lips as he took a deep breath in, his throat closing in on him as he looked at the screen. He stripped for a living, almost completely naked, and talking to you made him more nervous than he’d ever been before.

“Right, so, what is it? I got a glass of wine and some Kirby to play.” You say to him, and his chest warmed at the thought of you, just playing on your switch, while he played on his, both on the couch. He would be resting against the back of the couch while you rested your head on his lap, showing him your accomplishments on your game. And that thought, that small little image in his head, made him finally talk.

“I got the day off tomorrow as well actually.” You raised your head to look at him again, and Eddie sucked in another breath, feeling the palm holding the phone tensing and sweating up, but he can try to play it cool. He always did. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go to that bar near your apartment, I am missing how they prepare the Negroni there–” 

“Yes.”

Silence. Both of you were stunned at how quick you responded. You didn’t even process it, you didn’t even think about it, you didn’t even hesitate. Your whole body had a sudden cold sweat, and you almost dropped to the floor in embarrassment but Eddie finally recovered himself, straightening up as if you hadn’t just accepted going out on a date with him so casually. Well, he didn’t tell you it was a date, but he kind of hoped it was.

“Okay then! Someone’s excited to keep drinking it seems.” He had to lighten up the mood, he had to make you laugh again, lose the tension on your shoulders, and that he did. You giggled through your burning cheeks, your heart beating into your ears, but happiness was replacing your embarrassment, followed by excitement. Was it a date? Or was this just two friends getting together to have a drink? Or maybe you weren’t even going to be alone, maybe he invites Billy if he has his day off or something.

“I just– I don’t have plans for tomorrow, okay?” You say to him hiding your face behind the big glass of wine, and he couldn’t help but smile at you, dimples and all, making your stomach explode with so many things that you couldn’t even name them all. 

“Okay, alright, fine. I’ll just park near your apartment and we can go walking from there.” Your heart soared at that. Austin had told you to simply meet him there, when Eddie wasn’t, not only picking you up, but offered to go walking, and you hoped that it was because he wanted to spend more time with you. And you were right.

“Alright. Can I go play Kirby now?” You needed to hang up, you needed to yell, you needed to jump around with excitement, not being able to contain yourself for much longer. He was feeling the burning sensation on his face now too, so he clenched his other hand on the bed, tightly to hold his emotions in.

“Go play your stupid Kirby, I’ll see you tomorrow Angel.” You gave him a nod, putting your glass down to be able to send him a soft smile, and his eyes almost bulged out of his sockets when you bit your bottom lip, very subtly.

“See you tomorrow Eds.” You hung up and Eddie was staring blankly at the screen. You had accepted his invitation, rapidly, no doubt there, sure you were embarrassed and he could see it, but it meant… God, it meant you were letting go. A wide smile spread on his lips, teeth showing as he threw the phone on his bed, his arms raising towards the ceiling as he plopped backwards, falling onto his mattress with a laugh.

You weren’t far behind on his excitement, putting the phone on the counter before you did small little jumps in the same place you stood, a wide grin spreading on your cheeks. You weren’t this excited when Austin asked you out, and even if you didn’t know if Eddie meant it that way, you realized that if it was indeed a date, you didn’t mind. 

You didn’t mind. Oh my god… You didn’t mind.

Realization hits you like a brick to the face. It couldn’t be that, could it? He is your friend, someone who helped you all along this journey to find yourself, it’s impossible to feel– feel this for someone you consider a friend right? Well not impossible, but it shouldn’t happen, because he obviously doesn’t see you like that. He is just inviting you out to a bar to drink with his friend.

You were just excited to see Eddie, nothing more. But the anticipation was there again. What were you anticipating to happen? Your feelings were not cooperating with what your brain knows, so you cannot even describe what was going on inside of you. When did this shift happen with Eddie? This didn’t happen before, did it? You can’t remember now, because the present was just blurring everything from the past month.

You grabbed your glass of wine again, taking another sip, and the heat was all over your body again. You were going insane not knowing what was happening to you, and that leads you to stomp towards your living room, and take your Switch out of its charging dock, and plopping onto your couch, the glass on the coffee table.

You just needed to distract yourself. Eddie is a friend, and you are going to the bar as friends.

You walked out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, with a shocked expression on your face. 

You just wanted to be tidy, that’s all, feel clean. So, you shaved again, even if you shaved last week, you did it again. But it was all to feel clean, you liked that soothing feeling, your smooth legs and everywhere else. You looked at your full length mirror, scanning your body and the back of your legs if they were properly shaved. It isn’t the first time you shaved when seeing Eddie, but it is the first time you shaved your private parts. 

You shook your head, trying not to think too much about it, as well as the building heat in your belly. You double tapped your phone that was on your night table to look at the time. 5 PM. You had time, okay. You walked over to your closet and opened the underwear drawer, looking through your panties and bras to finally land on something you hadn’t opened yet.

The black laced lingerie set.

Why were you even considering it? Why were you even thinking about putting that on? It was Eddie, just Eddie… Sweet Eddie. You can’t put that on, because it wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t that at all. You grabbed your white set, the cotton pair and you sighed heavily with a nod, pushing the drawer closed. 

You stepped away to throw the set onto the bed but you stopped midway. You looked towards the drawer again. There was something inside of you that was tugging you towards it again, your mind wanting to go against it, but it felt as if it were an impulse, not being able to control it. 

Why can't you control it? You’ve always been able to control your feelings, so what was this? Why is it always frustratingly there? Why doesn’t it ever go away and why is it always there with Eddie? Your body moved to the drawer again, taking the black lace set out and immediately throwing your towel away, stepping onto the thong first, which you almost never used, and then putting on the bra, with embroidery stitched onto it, the edges of it a nice thin lace that stuck to your skin.

You walked towards the mirror again to stare at yourself, the burning sensation returning to your body as a thought appeared in your head. Your eyes widened, slowly, walking towards your reflection to touch the crystal with your fingertips.

You wanted him to see it.

You didn’t think of wearing this set with Austin, and in fact you were saving it for a serious relationship, when you had spent months building the trust and the confidence between one another… Yet, with Eddie you already had all of that. It was always there. It had always been there, and you realized at this very moment, just what was happening.

It had occurred to you many times, that the feeling inside of you was something you never felt before. Something Eddie mentioned that night, and that you didn’t know how to describe it to him. Something that shouldn't happen with friends, and you knew that, that’s why you had been denying it all along, because admitting it would only lead to pain.

You were attracted to Eddie. Painfully so.

Oh fuck… You sat on the bed, looking towards the floor as the butterflies exploded in your belly, your heart beating into your ears, a buzzing noise filling your brain as you tried to think, tried to put your feelings back together, but all you could think about was him. His touch, his scent, his eyes, his lips, his voice, his tattoos, and–

You wanted to see more. So much more. 

You weren’t hiding yourself at the thought of seeing more, not like you did before, not like the nervous and anxious panicked self you were before, because the difference from those times is that you weren’t sure of what you wanted. You weren’t sure if you could do some stuff. You weren’t sure if you would look nice. You weren’t sure if he would enjoy himself with you…

But you remembered that night, and you couldn’t help but hope, wish that he in fact felt the same way, the same attraction you felt for him. You covered your face as flames invaded your cheeks and towards your ears. You were desperate, and it was the first time you were experiencing it. You wanted him to the point of not being sure if you could control yourself with him. Not anymore.

What are you going to do now with this realization? You want his friendship yet you don’t. You want this to not be a date, yet you want it to. You aren’t anticipating anything, yet you are. And there it was, the anticipation of wanting him to do something. The need for him to not act like nothing happened last weekend. The need for him to show you he wants you as much as you want him.

But what if your mind is creating this idealization of him that is not true? What if he doesn’t really want you? What if it is just your brain creating that fantasy that he does just so you could feel good about yourself? It can happen, right? But, fuck, he was hard that night, but men get hard with everything and anything, and you knew that much. 

“Oh god…” You took a few deep breaths in, feeling your chest just palpitating and you were sure you were going into a cardiac arrest. You got up from the bed and shook your hands as you paced back and forth in your room, breathing deeply and exhaling, trying to calm your nerves as they started settling in your body.

Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

He even taught you this. You think too much, you dwell too much on the infinite possibilities on how something might go, when the only thing you have to do is let yourself go, just like you did that night with him, as well as when you let him kiss you almost a month ago. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror again, stopping on your tracks. Just act like you normally do, don’t let it show, but it was impossible. What if he put an innocent hand on the small of your back just like he did when you were cooking pancakes? That touch, that simple and soft touch almost made you lose your mind. How can you possibly do this? How are you going to act now that you know? Should you tell Robin? No, there’s no time, she doesn’t even know you and Eddie kissed, she would absolutely flip and you need to get ready.

The weather was still warm but chilly when the wind blew, so laid out on the bed was a nice long sleeved black dress that reached your mid thigh, there was no cleavage, but your collarbones showed on the collar of it. It was a casual dress, but it wasn’t. You groaned now that you realize you had been anticipating everything about going out with Eddie tonight. 

The shaving, the dress, the lingerie, the excitement of him inviting you to a bar, the perfume you were going to use, the makeup you were going to do on yourself, the hairstyle you looked a tutorial for, the accessories you were going to use and the small heels you were going to wear. Was it all too much? What if he is casual, in some jeans and a band T-Shirt and you make him feel bad about it?

Okay, maybe change the heels for some sneakers and don’t overdo the makeup. You can do that, you have to be more casual. What if he sees through you? What if he thinks you got attracted to him right after he touched you? Will he think you are delusional? That just because he kissed you and touched you meant he wanted more with you? 

What did more mean?

You jumped on the spot when your alarm rang, making your eyes go wide. You had set the alarm to go off at 5:30 PM and you realized you had been walking all around and thinking for half an hour. Precious time you needed to get ready. You rushed to your vanity desk to start pulling out everything you needed for your makeup and hair. 

The time went on as you got ready, your nervousness building more and more as each minute passed. You were nervous, but it was a good nervous, as well as excited but terrified. You slid on your sneakers and looked at yourself in the mirror again. Your hair was down, but neat, a little bit styled, more than usual, but not overdoing it. Your makeup was kept simple, neutral eyeshadows with a tinge of black, with your eyeliner and mascara. Your lips were a natural red tone, a lip tint. 

You looked at your phone and it marked it was 6:42 PM. Your hands started sweating as you began to pace around the room again. It was almost time, and you were trying to regulate your breathing. This wasn’t a stranger, it was Eddie, but the turn of your belly was way worse than any other time you were with another man. 

Just act normal. Like always. It’s just a night out, with your friend, no funny business. But fuck, if there is no funny business, why did you get dressed like this? Your phone vibrated and you rushed towards it to see Eddie’s message. 

‘Arrived a little early 😅’

A smile spread on your lips, long gone was the fear you felt seconds ago, replaced by adrenaline as you sprayed more perfume on the back of your ears, grabbing onto your purse and sliding the phone inside as well as the small tube of gloss just in case you want to reapply. 

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your house, locking after you left and you slipped into the elevator as fast as you could, pressing onto the bottom floor quickly until the doors closed. You looked at yourself in the mirrors of the wall of the elevator and fixed your hair again, giving one small nod as you waited for the doors to open again. Once they did, you walked out and out of the glass doors of the lobby, you could already see him.

Shit.

He was wearing that tight turtleneck black t-shirt you saw on him the other day, his black leather jacket on top, ripped black jeans, with his handcuff belt on his waist. He was looking to the side as he rested on the street lamp waiting for you. His hair was up in a bun, small strands falling around his face, and you felt your knees wobble slightly. 

He dressed up, in the same manner you did.

You gulped and punched the nervous lumps down your throat, walking towards the door and finally opening it. His head immediately snapped at the sound, and he had a smile on his face, ready to greet you, only for his breath to be knocked out of his lungs as if someone had kicked him on his chest cavity. 

He was absolutely stunned as he scanned your outfit, and he was sure that you were trying to kill him. He didn’t expect you to put on a dress for him, and he didn’t expect you to come out as quickly as you did. He also didn’t expect the perfume you were using, and he just was not prepared to see you like this. You were always beautiful, but now that you made yourself look good for this outing with him had his heart in his throat.

Do you even realize what you do to him or are you completely unaware of it? 

“Hi Eds!” Your cheery voice broke him out of his trance, finally feeling a cold sweat invade his feet, all blood leaving them to rush north, making him curse inwardly at himself. 

“Hey Angel.” He leaned away from the lamp post, and your heart soared when he reached out to you to pull you into a hug, face planting on his chest. You were afraid he could feel your heart against him, but you could definitely hear his. It was rather quick for its normal pace, but you guessed that maybe he walked to get to your door, having parked around the corner or something. 

Your arms wrapped around his waist and god he wanted to push you into your complex again, just go to your apartment and spend alone time with you instead of going into a bar with other people. But that would be too dangerous, being alone with you was not good for his own heart, nor his body, not when he had already heard you, tasted you, touched you.

He pulled away from you after taking a deep breath from your perfume, keeping his arm around your shoulders as he guided you to start walking the three blocks towards the bar. He was more nervous than he thought he’d be, but he had to stay calm, try to not show you how his hands were slightly trembling with the need to pull you into a kiss, or an even deeper hug.

You didn’t expect the arm to rest there, setting your body on fire as you started taking the first steps towards the bar. Your voice for some reason was caught in your throat as you looked at the floor. Talk to him, say something, anything at all. You raised your head up to ask him about this day off but your eyes caught onto the dark clouds that were coming from the distance.

“Eds, do I go get my umbrella? Just in case.” You say while pointing at said clouds. He looked over and indeed saw them, but he shrugged with a shake of his head. 

“Nah, it didn’t say it was going to rain. I bet it will just go around or it will be very little rain, we’ll be fine.” He says as if he were a meteorologist and you rolled your eyes at him, still staring at the clouds as you both walked.

“So those big black clouds it’s just a sprinkle of rain. That’s what you’re trying to tell me.” You say to him and he looks at you with a wide smile to his face, his arm falling from your shoulder, and your chest contracted in itself, missing the touch and the pressure that it had created. 

“I am an expert with weather. If you take a sniff, there’s no rain smell! It’s common sense sweetheart.” 

And that’s how you both arrived at the bar, bantering at Eddie’s poor sense of instinct but you still trusted him with not going back for an umbrella. It was the same bar you met Austin at, and when you both entered Eddie guided you to a similar booth, letting you both sit next to each other instead of in front of one another. 

You gulped and took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting right next to you. This… This looked like a date, didn’t it? It had to be, but he didn’t say it was, so maybe it isn’t, but you want it to be. Should you ask? But it’s too early, maybe ask that at the very end just in case you make everything awkward between the two of you. Maybe you’re just–

“You’re thinking again.” He says and you look to your side and at him, a nervous heat engulfing you from being caught red handed. You had to think of something, anything at all.

“It was just a very stressful three days at work. Had to leave everything completely tidy for these two days I’ll be gone.” It was actually the truth, you weren’t lying, but you did lie about this being the thing you were thinking about, and you felt slightly guilty about that.

“Wow, they really can’t go without you sweetheart.” You shrugged at that as the waitress came over to get your order which was a rum and coke for Eddie and a beer for you, with a side of fries. 

“Yeah, I also had a nervous attack yesterday.” You didn’t even register what you said until it was out of your mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, worry displayed on his face as he put a hand on your shoulder, making you look at him.

“Nervous? What happened?” Your eyes widened slightly and you cleared your throat, looking down at the table again, biting your bottom lip nervously. There it was again. You do not want to tell Eddie about another man. How stupid you were before for not realizing this. 

“I uh– Austin asked to go on a second date.” You began and he immediately tensed up, his stomach dropping as his shoulders fell slightly. “But I panicked because I didn’t know how to say no… So I called Robin completely crazy, and she– You wanna know what she fucking suggested?” You turned to look at him and his mood immediately lifted up as he heard you rejected the other man. For a second there he thought you had said yes.

“What did she suggest?” He says, putting his elbow on the table, his head resting on his hand as he looks at you. 

“She suggested that I tell him I am actually an undercover agent, trying to look into company secrets and that I was just using him.” Eddie snorted, followed by a chuckle and shaking his head while you giggled at Robin’s stupid suggestions, telling him one by one, making the laughter increase between you two, until Eddie’s laughter ceased but he kept a smile to his face.

“And what did you actually tell him?” He asked and you were just staring at him. He was absolutely beautiful, and your heart was trying to tug you into him, grab his face and pull him towards you, kiss him, wrap your arms around him. You sighed and shrugged at him.

“That I just felt like it was more of a friendship thing than something more.” At that Eddie’s heart soared, and the question was at the tip of the tongue. Did you feel that with him too? God, he really wanted to know. The waitress finally came back with your order and Eddie straightened up, thanking her as she placed the drinks and the food on the table.

You immediately launched to take a fry into your mouth and Eddie smiled as he watched you. Before, you would have waited until he got the first bite, because you didn’t want to seem desperate for food, and you were very tidy with it too. You took fries with your fork before, and now you’re dipping in with your hands. 

He was just hoping you were like this with him. Just him.

The two of you fell into your natural talk, even if nervous, even if anxious, it was always so easy to talk. So easy, that you were already on your second drink, asking him if his uncle was coming soon or not.

“Actually, yeah, maybe in a week. I am so fucking excited, it’s been way too long since I’ve last seen him, Claudia and the little shit.” He says with a laugh as he takes another sip of his rum and coke. You giggled at how he referred to his little brother, but you knew he cared deeply for him, still calling him three times a week to know how he is, and sometimes to help Dustin write a campaign of his own. “Still want you to meet him.”

You blushed at that, but you felt yourself growing excited at the thought of meeting part of his family, and that he wants you to. He really wants to introduce you to his Uncle, his father figure. His eyes were on you, body fully turned to face you, your own in the same manner. You smiled up at him, moving your head in a small nod.

“Can’t wait to meet him.” 

His arm was over the backrest of the booth, his hand resting right next to you. Your eyes locked with his and that need for him to wrap his arm around you came back. His fingers finally softly touched your shoulder, slow small circles being drawn with the tip of them and you shivered, feeling the goosebumps go all over your body at this small bit of touch from him.

Eddie’s eyes almost widened when he saw something different in the way you were looking at him. Did you even know what you were doing? Looking at him with your pupils a little bit wider than they were before, your fingers on the glass fidgeting, as if trying to do something with them but not having the strength to do it. Oh, everything changed. It definitely changed.

He moved one inch, just one towards you, but his cell phone started vibrating non stop, making him curse under his breath, pulling his arm away from the backrest to face the phone on the table. You didn’t realize that you weren’t breathing, releasing the air that was jailed up in your lungs. You almost reached for him. You almost leaned in, just out of impulse, out of craving. What have you become? 

“Fucking christ.” He swipes the phone screen to reject the call and that makes you snap out and look at him with a confused look in your face.

“Who was it?”

“The little–” The phone began vibrating again, and Eddie groaned while throwing his head back, grabbing his phone and answering the video call. 

“Eddie, what the fuck! This is important and you haven’t been answering my texts!” You hear the other voice say and you look at the screen, seeing it was Dustin, Eddie’s brother. He raised his head to look at the camera with an angry look on his face and his little brother simply rolled his eyes at him. “What are you doing so important you can’t answer me?”

“Does it look and sound like I’m home, you fucker?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle it but Dustin heard it, a smirk appearing in his face.

“Are you on a date?” 

Oh that made Eddie blush, and your giggle ceased again. The thing you both didn’t ask or say, and now you wondered what Eddie was going to say. You gulped, looking up at him and his eyes were already on you. You were waiting for him to answer, you were giving him the option of letting this evening be a friendly one, or something more. 

His heart was on his ears as he felt his gut turning with nervousness, but now, he felt hopeful that this feeling was not one sided. If you let him choose, it’s because you wondered if he had asked you out as a friend or not. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by Dustin, who gasped, making Eddie’s head turn back to him.

“Is it her?” Dustin suddenly says your name and your eyes widen slightly, while Eddie blushes with a roll of his eyes, followed by a nod of his head. “I wanna meet her!”

“What, no! I’m–” 

“I just wanna ask her what house she is in!” And that caught your attention, making you sit up straight and snatch Eddie’s phone out of his hand. He groaned again, a little bit pissed that Dustin completely ruined the moment, and now he was butting in, on the date he didn’t say it was, but it definitely was.

“Hi! I’m Dustin!” 

“Little shit.” Eddie corrects and again puts his elbow on the table, looking your way as he rests his head on his hand. 

“Eddie told me you like Harry Potter!” Dustin says and you smile into the camera, widely as heat fills your cheeks. Eddie talked about you. He talked about you to his family.

“Yes! I am a potterhead, full fledged.” You say to the curly headed boy in front of you, and Eddie knew he had become non existent at this point, but seeing you smile widely while talking to his brother was making his heart beat faster and yearn for you even more than before. 

“I am too! I mean, I am a fan of all nerdy things, but Harry Potter is one of my top 3!” He says with a smile which was super contagious to you, making you smile at him. “Okay so, I am a Hufflepuff, and my Patronus is a dog!” He says and your eyes widen at him, your mouth falling into a surprised one.

“Me too! I am a proud Hufflepuff, but my Patronus is actually a Hippogriff.” Dustin’s eyes widened.

“No fucking way! That one is fucking difficult to get!” Eddie was smiling as he heard you talk, completely entranced by you, excitedly moving your free hand as you talked to Dustin. He wondered if you would be this care free with Wayne and Claudia. God, he really wants to introduce you to them, and the thought scared him before, but seeing you right now he is simply growing impatient for it to happen already.

He used this time to go to the bathroom and relieve himself, looking at himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath in to calm his nerves. God, what is happening right now? You were talking normally, he knew that, but there was something else. It was as if you were expecting something, watching him, and you even scooted closer to him. He wasn’t going to complain, but… Should he make a move? Should he first talk to you? 

He chuckles at himself, feeling like a complete hypocrite. He always talks to you about letting go, to stop thinking, to stop dwelling on things in your mind and here he was. But the difference was that he was risking so much if he decided on making the move. But weren’t the signs there? You waited for his answer if this was a date or not! So why is he hesitating so much?

He walks out of the bathroom, walking back towards the booth and he sees a smile line of people outside the bar, waiting to enter. He knew you two were going to get kicked out soon, and he groaned at the thought, sitting in the booth, sliding next to you again as you giggled at Dustin, Eddie’s heart warming again.

“Yeah, but I can’t ever beat him at Mario Kart. He sucks at everything else, but Mario Kart is a fucking pro isn’t he?” You tilted your head at that, and Eddie’s eyes widened at his brother, already cursing him as Dustin kept talking. “Yeah, he told me you couldn’t beat him either.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise, looking at Eddie with complete shock in your face. His eyes were panicked as he looked at you, an innocent small smile appearing in his lips and you bit your bottom lip with your eyebrows raised up and nodded at him, only to snap back at Dustin.

“So he told you he beat me? Cause I don’t remember it like that at all!” Dustin’s face fell, his turn to tilt his head in confusion and Eddie’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pushing you into him with his hand covering your mouth, rather harshly in order to shut you up as he snatched the phone out of your hands, putting his face on the camera again as your screams and mumbles were muffled into his palm.

“Okay, Dustin, talk to you tomorrow, if this is about the campaign we’ll talk later!” 

“What did she mean–” Eddie hung up before Dustin could finish and he dropped the phone on the table with an exasperated sigh. You were wriggling in his grasp and he took the hand off your mouth but his arm was still holding you close. He looked down at you with a frown to his face as you laughed, your hands pressing onto his thigh for support.

“He beats me at every game, he is not going to let me live it down if he knows YOU beat me at Mario Kart!” You were still giggling as you looked up at him.

“But I did beat you at Mario Kart!” You now noticed how close his face was to yours, his arm still holding you close, with his hand now on your shoulder. Your whole body is turned, which was rather uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. You were just inches from touching his lips again, and the burning in your belly ignited, first like a spark, and it was expanding into flames, all over. 

“Yeah… You did… But he doesn’t need to know Angel… Let’s keep that secret between us, okay?” His voice lowered, talking to you, privately, intimately and that made your legs clench slightly, already knowing why you were always fidgety with him. Why you were always uncomfortable in that area of yours. 

You were aroused.

It was just you two in the bar right now, that’s how it felt like. No one around you. No clients, no waitresses, no barman, no cook… There was no one. You just needed him to close the distance, you were begging him with your eyes to close the distance between you two, but he wasn’t doing anything. Why isn’t he doing anything? You were growing desperate now, and you knew it, but what do you have to do for his lips to be on yours again?

“Can I handle your check?” Eddie wanted to curse at whoever was playing a joke on him from above. Probably his fucking father or something. He sighed as he pulled away from you, looking at the waitress before him. He nodded and you felt as if your breathing had picked up a pace now, feeling your heart hammering in your chest, as you sat straight once more.

You were… Irritated. Why isn’t he kissing you? He’s done it before, why isn’t he doing anything? Maybe he doesn’t want to? But he didn’t say it wasn’t a date, because if it weren’t then he should have said a simple no. You were too into your head that you didn’t notice Eddie paying the waitress until he tapped your shoulder. 

“They are basically kicking us out.” He gave you a small smile and you looked at him, still with a lost look in your eyes and nodded, grabbing your things and getting out of the booth with him. You wanted to glare at the people that were in line, because thanks to them they had to start to clear up tables to fill them in. 

“You didn’t even let me pay half…” You pouted at him as he walked next to you, but your steps were slow, not wanting the night to end. You didn’t realize that you’ve been sitting there with him for two hours, time passing by way too quickly for your liking. 

“Next time is on you.” He says with a smile and your heart jumps at that, making you smile towards the floor trying to hide how flushed you just got. Next time. There will be a next time with just the two of you. You looked up at him, both of you still walking.

“Maybe next time you can help Dustin before so he doesn’t have to interrupt.” You said to him and he was baffled by your answer. You saw Dustin as an interruption when he was close to you. His heart hammered in his chest, and none of you were paying attention to the small concrete boulder on the ground, and when you stepped on it, you tumbled to the side, flailing your arms everywhere.

“Shit!” He grabbed your arms, pulling you into him to steady you as your heart felt like exploding. You felt your world tilting when you stepped on that, giving you a complete heart attack. His chest rumbled with laughter and you looked up at him with a frown and pout in your face.

“Don’t laugh at me! I didn’t see it!” You were embarrassed at your display, but seeing him laugh was making you want to get on the tip of your toes, and plant a kiss on him. God, you want to kiss him, really bad.

“I’m sorry, you just moved your arms everywhere and it was funny.” His laugh slowed down as his head turned to look at you and there was that look on your face again. You were blinking slowly at him, and his blood began rushing south because it almost looked as if you wanted to eat him alive. 

Just like he wanted to do to you.

“Eds…?” You were dazed, eyes hazed while staring up at him and your mind was turning into gelatin, coherent thoughts no longer processing in your head, and your palms were splayed on his chest, and you just wanted to rise them up, glide them on his torso and to the back of his head.

“Yes, Angel?” His voice was low, your frame still in his arms as you two stood in the street, and he really was trying to keep himself under control here, but when you were looking at him like that… The only thought that was processed was… Fuck it. 

But you flinched, your eyes blinking rapidly as you touched your cheek with your index finger, water covering it. You frowned at it and Eddie was about to ask what happened when he himself felt something on his cheek. He unhooked one arm from you to wipe his face, noticing the drop of water on his hand, and as soon as you both looked up, the sky decided it was time for a waterfall to happen. 

The drops were heavy, soaking you both in the lapse of five seconds and you pulled away from Eddie with a squeal, followed by a glare towards him and he was taking off his jacket in a hurry, cursing under his breath to then flop it on your head to cover you from any more rain.

“I TOLD YOU SO!” You yelled at him and he grabbed your hand to start running towards your complex, and he couldn’t help but roar with laughter as he ran. You wanted to murder him and he was laughing at the situation. The streets had puddles already from how heavy was raining as thunder roared in the sky above you both.

“JUST RUN!” He yelled back through his laughter and you couldn’t help but laugh with him as you kept running under the rain, Eddie’s jacket over your head, keeping the rain out of your hair and face. Many people were running from the sudden downpour, some cursing, some laughing, and then some just accepted their fate and walked under the rain.

You two were just running like crazy, laughing hysterically as his hand squeezed yours, your sneakers already full of puddle water which was making you wince in disgust and made you keep whining at him, telling him off that you were right and that you should have gone inside for an umbrella. You took the keys out of your purse desperately as you both reached the complex and he let your hand go.

“Well, Angel, I should–”

“Nope, you’re getting inside and we’re gonna dry ourselves before we catch a fucking cold!” You yelled at him and he wasn’t going to say no, following you inside the lobby as you opened your door. You both rushed to the elevator as you kept laughing at how stupid Eddie had been about the weather. 

In the elevator you took the jacket off your head and he grabbed it, trying to shake the water off it and you covered your face to then slap his arm to make him stop. He was laughing at the reflection of the two of you and you noticed that your makeup was running, making you gasp in embarrassment and fix it with your index fingers.

The doors opened at your floor and you grabbed his hand to walk the two of you out of the elevator, rushing towards the warmth of your apartment, your heart beating loudly in your chest, as you opened the door to finally head inside. Eddie closed the door behind him and you motioned for him to take off his boots as you took off your water filled sneakers.

“God, okay, I am not a weatherman, okay? I can make mistakes.” He says with a chuckle, taking off his boots and his socks that were completely drenched. You put your sneakers and socks aside as you looked at him. 

“You said you were an expert–” 

“Experts can make mistakes sweetheart.” He says to you with a smile, that dimpled smile that made your knees buckle. You studied him, his hair was stuck to his forehead and cheeks, some curls were wet bouncing off, but his bun was still in place. You felt your breathing picking up a pace again, and it wasn’t because of the running. His chest was going up and down, his shirt now completely stuck to his body, letting your eyes roam all over him, and the flames never extinguished. Even when you were running towards here you still felt them, in the hold of his hand, in his laughter, in that moment between the two of you.

You didn’t even turn on the lights of the apartment, but the streetlamps of the street were bright enough to bring some light into the place, and thunder every now and then flashed through the windows. He ran a hand over his face to take off the excess water, and even if you were drenched from head to toe, you were burning. You were really burning as if you had the worst fever ever.

Your consciousness was drifting away again, your body wanting to move as your belly and your need yelled at you. He hadn’t made a move on you all night. He didn’t kiss you, he had touched you but he did go farther than that. The anticipation of him doing something, the anticipation of fully crossing the line, the anticipation of something happening tonight. That’s what you were waiting for, but you were irritated already because of how desperate you were for him.

You want him.

You desire him.

You need him.

“Angel, we should get some towels.” He was oblivious to you, not realizing the desperate look on your face, the fast pace of your breathing, the twitching of your hands, and just because he was looking all over at himself and how incredibly drenched he got from some rain in just a minute. 

Your body was trembling almost as you stared at him, your belly burning as you felt the heat right at your core. This, you never felt this before. This intense feeling of wanting someone, of craving someone, of wanting to touch them in every possible way. The thought of that scared you before, but now, you would do anything to see him in the light, bare before you, and you wanted to make him feel good, in the same way he made you feel that night. 

Stop thinking.

Stop waiting. 

Let go.

Let fucking go.

Eddie looked up only for his eyes to widen when he felt both of your hands reach up to his face, cradling him, and he didn’t even notice you had walked closer to him at all. He stared down at you, seeing that look again in your face as you pulled him down towards you, and you tipped toed upwards.

And you kissed him.

It was soft, yet with pressure, and he was in complete shock, his eyes still wide as you kissed him, in a long peck, your lips not moving, yet he could feel the desire in the kiss, because he could feel how hot your hands were, despite the heavy cold rain that poured on the two of you. You made the move on him. You kissed him. Out of your own accord, no help required, no favor asked. 

Your hands trembled as you slowly pulled away, breathing heavily and taking a step back to scan his face. Your body was shaking slightly, not because of the wet clothes on you, but because you wanted to simply jump on him. This new feeling inside of you was making you feel like an animal, and you didn’t know how to control it, not anymore. 

He was still looking at you with surprise in his face, his chest increasing its movement as his breathing picked up, and locked eyes with yours. The tension in the air was palpable, and the room grew hotter, and hotter as you two scanned one another. You didn’t think, you let go with him. 

Fuck it.

He dropped the wet leather jacket to the floor with a thud, and gave a heavy step towards you, one hand flying towards your waist, wrapping his arm around you while he took the other towards the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You sighed of relief as your arms immediately wrapped around him as his lips clashed desperately against yours.

This kiss was different. It was needy, rough, and it was already burning your lips as you both moved with one another, your fingernails digging into his back as you pressed your body against his, feeling his hand grip onto the small of your back. His fingers went into your wet hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss.

There was no room for thoughts, no room for being conscious of what was going on. You just need this fire to be over, you need it extinguished, but it only grew its flame. You need more, so for the first time, you licked his bottom lip, wanting to feel more of him. He groaned into the kiss, his chest exploding at the thought of you making all the moves today.

You wanted him, you were experiencing desire for the first time ever, and he now understood. You were letting go, letting your instincts take over, letting your body move for you, and you were being consumed by those flames you were annoyed of for the past weeks. 

He moved the both of you, your hips slamming against the counter behind you as your tongue danced with his, heavy breaths mixing with one another’s, his hands wanting to roam all over your body but there was still some control in him, even if it was a very thin line. So he kept his hands where he originally put them, while your fingernails were scratching on his scalp, wanting him closer onto your body, feeling his hip against yours and you couldn’t help but whine at the need for more, his blood rushing south in a fast pace as he heard that coming from you.

You had to have more, it’s not enough. God, it’s just not enough. He groaned into your mouth when one of your hands slid down from his head to grab onto his bicep, harshly and without breaking the kiss you pushed yourselves off the counter. You want to take what you desire, want to lose yourself in the feeling so you start taking steps, small steps, guiding him with you, your lips still attached as if your lives depended on it. 

He was hesitant to follow you, wanting to pull away to ask if this is what you really wanted, but he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want this. It’s the only thing that’s been in his mind ever since he kissed you back at his apartment, maybe even before that. So the fact that you are the one, guiding him into your bedroom, was making that small control he had in himself slowly begin to snap.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, and the kiss only broke for a second as you fell back, body hitting the mattress below you with a soft huff as you tried to get your breathing back to normal, to get oxygen into your brain so you could think, but Eddie was close behind you, following you as he got on top of you, each knee on the side of your thighs, right on the edge of the mattress, as he leaned down hungrily to take your lips again with his.

You moaned softly into the kiss, making him groan as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders again to pull him close. He wrapped one arm around you, going in between your body and the mattress to lift you slightly up so he can guide you up into the middle of the bed, your legs no longer dangling at the edge and he crawled with you in the movement, trying to never leave your lips.

You were both breathing heavily into each other, tongues mixing in a wild dance, battling for the prize, but it was still not enough. He was hovering over you, not pressing his body against you, and you needed that. You arched your back upwards, looking for him, not knowing yourself for a second there but you were just desperate for him, you needed him, terribly. 

He felt your chest hit his and he groaned into the kiss, but he had to be first, and foremost, the good friend you met at that coffee shop. The good friend you trusted from the beginning to help you. The good friend you could be yourself with no matter what. So he slowly, painfully, broke the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours as he spoke, eyes searching for yours.

“Angel… Are you–” And you finally locked eyes with his, and he almost died right then and there. All your features and the wide dilated pupils in your eyes made all of his doubts wash away. 

“E-Eds– I–” He knew that if you talked you would think and your mind would start working in search of words, so he immediately clashed his lips on yours again. He was so selfish, but he wasn’t going to miss this chance of you letting go with him. For whatever this evening takes you both, he wasn’t going to miss the chance of experiencing it. 

His arm was still wrapped underneath you, so he kneeled up, making you sit up while the kiss never broke between the two of you. He pulled away once more, looking into your eyes to see if there were signs of regret, of panic, of uncertainty, but in your eyes the only thing you could see was him. Just him. The eye contact never broke, as his hands slowly started heading to the back of your dress, finding the zipper at the top of it.

You were both almost panting now as you stared at one another, and when he didn’t see you move away, when he didn’t see you look away, and when he didn’t see your gaze change on him, he held onto the zipper and began pulling it down, slowly. Your body shivered as your belly turned with an anxious feeling you didn’t know how to really describe, but it wasn’t bad, it was the complete opposite of it. You wanted him to take your dress off, and it made you nervous, you knew it by the way your hands trembled, but you still wanted him to take it off, let him touch your bare skin, skin that was burning you almost agonizingly at each soft teasing touch.

Once the zipper was down, and you still haven’t stopped him, he sucked a deep breath in to calm his heart as he grabbed onto the collar of the dress, and started pulling it down. He was going to save your breasts for the final show, first helping you get out of the long sleeves, which was hard to do because of how wet the fabric was, sticking onto your skin.

You took this time to glance at his arms, wanting to bite onto them, wanting him to wrap them around you again as he slowly took the top of your dress off. Fear finally struck you as he pulled the top part down to finally see you in your bra. Your body flushed, feeling bare before him, yet you still looked up to look at his reaction, and his eyes were almost wide, completely clouded at your sight.

When he pulled that part of cloth down, he didn’t expect you to have something like that underneath. That black lace fit you as if it was made specifically for you, and you… You picked that for him. You had chosen to wear this underneath that dress of yours, all night, while talking to him. He cursed under his breath when he felt his bulge twitch in his pants, wanting to break free. 

He grabbed the back of your neck, and leaned down towards your face, making your eyelids drop as his breath hit your face. He gave your lips a small peck, yet longing as he slowly pushed you down onto the bed once again. He pulled away from the kiss as he hovered on top of you, both elbows holding himself up to not crush you, fighting his hips upwards so you wouldn’t feel his hard on against your thigh. 

His lips found your cheek bone, and you sighed with almost relief, closing your eyes as his lips went further down, going towards your neck, leaving soft breathy kisses all over the skin. He gave a soft tentative nip on your skin, making you jerk upwards, your chest hitting his as he groaned against you.

“You’re so beautiful… God, you’re so fucking beautiful Angel…” You gasped as you held onto his biceps, swallowing the words he just said to you. His lips went even more south, kissing onto your collarbone and the flames just expanded with that. If he kept going you were sure you would combust from the intense burning that was all over your body. His kisses kept going, kissing all over your torso until he reached the top of your breasts. He looked up at you with a lost look in his eyes and you looked down at him, breathing heavily as you gave him a nod. 

“Please…” You begged, almost whined, and he didn’t have to be told twice. He dipped his hand behind your back, and you lifted slightly so he could get access to the hook of your bra. He expertly snapped it open with one movement, and you dropped onto the mattress again. He could feel the heat that was radiating off your body, how flushed you were.

Your mind started moving its gears again when you felt him pull the first strap down. What if he didn’t like them? What if they are too bland? Too boring? Maybe little more than what he normally is used to? Not perfect and perky? What if he–

A kiss on your cheek stopped your mind from reeling any further, and you looked at Eddie who had a lust filled look in his features as he breathed a little heavily over you. He now decided to let you know how bad you had him in the palm of your hand, how incredibly turned on he was with you underneath him, so he pressed his hip against your thigh. Your eyes widened when you felt the bulge hitting on your skin, and your control left your mind once more.

“You’re perfect… So fucking perfect.” He whispered to you as he took the other strap down and your body relaxed as he took the constricting device off your body, the breeze hitting your wet skin, making your nipples stand up at it. Reality hit you, now being conscious that Eddie was seeing you half naked right now. You were going to start talking but his lips hungrily found yours again.

He took one glance, just one glance at your breasts and he was gone. He needed to feel you, he desperately needed you now, his heart tugging on him so intensely that he believes he is going to die on the spot. He threw the bra away, not caring where it landed as his hand pressed onto your waist, to let you know he was there. You breathed softly against his lips as his fingertips started trailing up on your body.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cold hand come in contact with your left nipple, sensitivity shooting a shockwave through your body, making your arch your back towards his touch. His tongue was in your mouth, swallowing your soft moan, making him hold a groan back as he greedily rubbed himself on your thigh once, to get some friction.

His index finger started circling your nipple, perking it up even more, and you couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss to throw your head back onto the pillow, a low moan escaping your lips. You never felt this when someone touched your breasts, but you felt this a hundred times more, even more than when you touch yourself there. Eddie was basically doing magic on you right now. 

He was panting as he looked at your blissed out face, and he pinched your nipple once, gently to see you jerk up, another moan escaping you and he licked his lips as he hungrily stared down at you. He used your exposed neck, planting a kiss there, and then on the other side as his thumb and index finger kept pinching you, rolling your nipple in between his digits. 

He was too hungry for you, trailing his kisses back down towards your collarbone, and you were too distracted into the bliss of his fingers, that you didn’t notice his kisses at the top of your right breast, kissing now all around the mound, and he looked at you one last time before he placed his mouth onto your nipple. 

Your eyes snapped open at the feeling, looking down at him and your core burnt with the sight of him, groaning, almost moaning against your skin, enjoying every lick and bite he did to you. Your hands were gripping his shoulders, tightly as moans ripped from your mouth and your back arched at him.

Your taste was something he was never going to forget in his life, nor get tired of. He was in pure bliss as he gave you this pleasure you never experienced, and he hoped he was going to be the only one to give that to you. He sucked on your lip to then let go with a pop, letting his tongue flick onto the nub a couple of times, making you shiver under his touch, your eyes closed as your head was to the side, enjoying his ministrations.

He dragged his tongue to the center of your breasts to then land a kiss there. He then began trailing more kisses, going downwards and your breathing hitched when he grabbed onto the lower part of your dress. He gave you a look as he sat up, letting you choose again if he continued or not. Your answer, even if nervous, even if thoughts wanted to go off in your brain, your instincts and your body didn’t let it. Your hips raised up from the bed and he sucked in a sharp intake of breath as he began pulling the dress off you. 

He dropped it somewhere in the room and he had a perfect view of your body now. You were almost naked, on your bed, giving yourself to him in a way he didn’t think was possible. His chest was going up and down rapidly, fingertips trembling. He wanted to devour you, take you, make you his, and ruin you, absolutely ruin you for anybody else. Ruin you to the point you wouldn’t be able to forget about him. Ruin you with the intent of branding himself on your skin and mind. 

No one can have you, but him.

Your body burnt at his gaze, and you were about to cover yourself out of embarrassment and he shook his head at you, running his hands on your thighs.

“I am admiring you Angel… You– You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” You didn’t expect to hear that from him, but as your gaze looked downwards you could see how big the bulge underneath his pants were. You didn’t even touch him, and yet he was there, turned on by just touching you. 

He leaned down again, crawling a little bit downwards as he placed a kiss on your stomach, and then at your waist. You covered your mouth as his kisses started going beyond the elastic band of your thong, kissing over your thigh, and then moving onto the other one. His fingers moved upwards and grabbed onto the edge of your thong.

Your eyes widened and you flinched away from him, fear striking you suddenly as the nerves took over you. He looked up at you to see if you were regretting it, if you wanted to stop, but your eyes were simply confused, nervous, and doubtful. He licked his lips as he kneeled up again, to lean over you so he could gaze at your eyes more closely.

“Do you want me to stop?” Did you? You definitely didn’t, but he was going to see you there, he was going to be able to see it. Last time he couldn’t and just touched you, but now he wanted to be face to face with your center. Yet, as you looked up at him, you could see some desperation in his eyes, almost a plea, a beg. You shook your head slowly at him and he gave you a small smile. “Trust me…”

You nodded gently at him, and he looked down again to hook his finger at the band of your thong. He sat back and lifted your legs so he could slowly slide it away from you. Your eyes clenched together and before you could move and hide yourself by clenching your legs shut, he placed himself in between them, your knees hitting his hips. 

He crawled down again, looking down at your center like a starved man. He couldn’t just dive in, even if he were as hungry as ever, he couldn’t. You were nervous, and he knew that, so he looked up at you and saw your eyes just looking everywhere at the ceiling. 

“Eds— I– No one has ever…–” And he knew what you meant, so he started his kissing again, trying to soothe your tensed up legs, bending your knees slightly as he kissed the top of your thighs first, soft kisses and tender bites to let your relax, to tell you in his own way that he is going to take care of you, that he is not there to judge you, and that you didn’t make him do anything. He is doing it out of his pure greediness, his own selfishness, his own hunger and his own fire. 

“I’ll make you feel good love… It’s just me.” Those last words always relaxed you, always made your nerves slip away even if slightly, because he was right. It was just him. And you were glad it was always him, you were happy it was just him, you were excited that it was only him. His lips were now in your left inner thigh, kissing you gently, longingly, moving towards your center, and then repeating the actions on the right inner thigh, making you tremble with anticipation, your core clenching on nothing as you waited for what he could do to you.

And then he took a deep breath in, taking your scent in, seeing how wet you already were for him, and finally pressed a kiss over your clit, a gentle one, but it was enough to make you jerk at the sensation, your hands gripping onto the sheets below you. Your eyes were wide at this new sensation, and your belly turned from finally getting something to numb the burning ache. His arms were now under your thighs, and his hands gripped your hips to keep you in place as he finally gave in to his hunger and dove in.

A moan escaped your lips when he licked all along your slit, flicking your nub at the end, and repeating the motion again. Your mind turned into mush as he pressed himself into your center, licking and tasting you. You could feel his tongue flicking on your clit, and he started doing a motion you didn’t think it was possible to do with tongue. Your moans escalated as he moved his head up and down on you, gathering your slick as he groaned at the taste, the tip of his tongue sliding in between your folds repeatedly to feel your walls clenching on nothing.

He couldn’t believe how sweet you tasted. He could spend a lifetime here in between your legs if he could, if you’d let him, just taking orgasm after orgasm from you, never satiating his hunger for you. He was listening to your moans, to your panting as your back arched upwards and then it fell back down on the mattress. Your hips sway slightly against him. 

He then pressed his face against your center, nose against your clit as his tongue went inside of you and your eyes widened as stars filled your eyes. You could feel him move inside of you, and it was different from his fingers, but still made you moan even louder than before as your belly was building up that tension, slowly, that needed to break.

“Ed-Eddie–” Oh god, his name is on your lips again. He pulled his mouth away from you to flick your clit with the tip of it. His arm let go of your thigh, to bring it in between your legs. He sucked on your clit, your back arching as he coated his fingers in your wetness, first pushing his middle finger in.

A whimper came out of your lips at the feeling of your clit being stimulated as he plunged inside. The room was definitely on fire right now, the heat of it all being too harsh, but yet feeling so good. This is what you wanted. You didn’t want it extinguished, you wanted it to burn you alive. His finger started thrusting in and out of you as he kept stimulating your clit with his tongue and mouth.

He looked up and he almost came in his pants at the sight. You were moaning with no restraints, some ‘god’ and ‘fuck’ came out here and there, and he couldn’t help but rub himself against the mattress for some friction, because he was going to explode if he didn’t. His eyes looked at your hand on the mattress, so with his other hand, he let go of your thigh to guide towards your hand, getting hold of it.

Your eyes opened and looked down at him. His eyes closed as he guided your hand to his head, dropping his own to wrap around your thigh again as he pulled you into him once more. You were seeing him devouring you, his finger still going in and out of you as your body rocked slightly against him. Your hand immediately closed onto the top of his head, nails going into his curls, a groan being pushed inside your center as you did so.

The elastic band was slowly growing wider and wider, ready to snap in your belly, as your body heated up at the orgasm that was building inside of you. He felt the clenching of your walls around his middle finger, so he decided to help even more with his index finger, now both fingers stretching out as he pumped them in and out. His mouth never leaves your sensitive and throbbing nub.

Your eyes widened again, your hand pulling his head into you and then your other hand found itself into his curls as well, your belly now burning as he kept eating you as if your substance was the elixir of the gods. And for Eddie, it definitely was. He was still rubbing himself against the mattress as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers and your body twitched several times.

“I– I– Eddie, I’m gonna–” You were stammering in your words, not being able to think straight at all as he kept mouthing at you, fingering you, even faster than before, curling his fingers inside of you so that he could hit that spongy part within you, that part no one but him has ever touched before. 

He groaned in approval and moved his head up and down on you to move his tongue even faster, and he felt you moving your hips against him, trying to reach your climax and help him get to it faster. The coil finally snapped and your back arched all the way up as your walls clenched onto his fingers, tightly, and he could barely move them from how tight you were, groaning onto your clit as his eyes looked up to see you like this for him.

You were moaning his name, loudly, your hands still on his hair, gripping onto it as he helped you ride your orgasm out, tasting your fluids on his tongue. He slowly felt your walls unclench on his fingers, and he could take them out of you, but before he would completely detach himself from you, he licked a wide stripe of your slit to collect your juices, groaning in delight at the taste as you flinched away from the over sensitivity.

You were panting heavily, looking at the ceiling with half lidded eyes, and you thought the flames would be gone, that after that they would simply fade away… But they didn’t… And as you saw him crawling back up, his face over yours again, your slick being wiped off by his wrist, and that made you tremble slightly once again. 

So, have you got the guts?

“We can stop here… There is no need to keep going if you don’t want to.” You looked up at him, searching to see if he wanted to stop, if he wanted to really end the night here, unlike yourself. You didn’t want to stop, you needed more, you wanted more, this wasn’t enough, because you wanted to make him feel good too, but overall… You wanted to feel him. 

Your hands reached up to grab onto the hem of his shirt, and he immediately realized what you wanted. He sat back, and throwing his hand over his head, he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one swift move. You slowly sat up, your breathing still heavy from the orgasm that exploded in you a minute ago, but for the first time, you could see him. 

Tattoos lingered all over his body, a few patches of uncovered skin were there, but now you found yourself amazed by all the tattoos you had to trace. These new markings you wanted to mentally take a screenshot of to always remember them. Your hands lifted up, your mind filled with desire and lust, as you finally touched his abdominal area, making him throw his head back in a circle, a groan being restrained in his throat. 

Been wondering if your heart's still open, and if so, I wanna know what time it shuts.

He’s been touched like this before, but this is the first time he felt cared for, as if you were making sure to touch every little piece of skin that there was so that he knew you desired him as much as he desired you. Remember every small part of you, every little twitch, every marking, every mole, freckle… 

Your hands traveled upwards towards his pecs, running your hands over them and Eddie’s eyes widened when he felt your lips kiss over his belly button. He couldn’t wait anymore. He really couldn’t. He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you off him, so he could grab the back of your head, pulling it back so he could dive in and press a deep kiss on your lips.

You moaned into it, your hands still on his body as you ran your fingertips all over his waist, making his skin grow in goosebumps. With his free hand, he guided it towards his belt, the clinking of the buckle opening catching your attention, pulling away from him with a gasp. You were looking at how he took the leather strap off him, throwing it to the side, a clank being heard from the metal hitting the floor. 

Simmer down and pucker up

He licked his lips in anticipation as he tried to keep his breathing under control, but fuck, he never felt this way when having sex before, and he was afraid of fucking it up. His eyes widened though, when he felt your trembling fingers touching the button of his jeans. He gulped audibly as he looked down at you, pulling the button off and then slowly gliding the zipper down, just like he did with the zipper of your dress.

He stood up from the bed, right next to you to be able to take his pants off, which were a still wet mess, and you just stared at him, standing in your room in his boxers only. Your eyes widened at the prominent bulge that were covered by the black fabric, and you felt your mouth salivate, for the first time in your life, while looking at someone’s hard on. It didn’t happen with the men you dated before, but with Eddie, everything was just pure craving, pure desire, pure and absolute want. 

And you weren’t shying away from it.

He saw how you were watching him and he took a step closer to you so you could make the final move on him, the one that will determine how the rest of the night is going to go. You looked up at him, and the only person you saw was Eddie… Your sweet Eddie… And your hands moved by themselves as they grabbed onto the hem of his boxers, slowly dragging them down until you could finally see him, in all of his glory. It was large, and you really don’t remember enough to compare it to your exes, but this one, you knew you would remember. Before, you would have died to have complete darkness in the room, so you didn’t have to see them, but as the thunder struck against the sky and illuminated the room through the windows, it was like a camera flash to you, taking pictures of him, scanning him all over.

And you wanted him, you really wanted him.

You looked up at him, and he immediately knew what you were trying to tell him, with just one look into your eyes. He leaned down to grab onto your jaw with his thumb and index finger, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. You moaned against the touch and he groaned as his dick twitched, not being able to handle the anticipation any longer. He pulled away from the kiss to mumble against your lips.

I'm sorry to interrupt, it's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you.

“Condoms are in my jacket–” You couldn’t afford the seconds it took for him to go get his jacket, so you opened the drawer on your night table to show him the box of condoms you had there. He raised an eyebrow at it and then directed it at you. Nervousness broke into your body as you looked down. 

“I-I bought them after we– you started giving me advice…” He smirked at you and then grabbed onto the box, closing the drawer. An unopened box of condoms. He opened the pack and took a foil out, and then pushed you to lay back down onto the bed as he kneeled in between your legs again. Your breathing picked up again as you saw him rip the foil off with his teeth, taking the latex out of the package.

I don't know if you feel the same as I do.

He threw the rest somewhere on the floor, and you watched as he slowly rolled the condom on his shaft, your center clenching at nothing as he groaned at the friction of finally being able to touch himself. If he was this sensitive with just rolling the condom on himself, he was sure he wasn’t going to last with you. Your legs were bent and spread, him coming closer to you to finally cover your body with his, his elbows keeping him up in order to not crush you.

He leaned down to take your lips in his again, this time softer, tenderly, and your eyes closed into the feeling, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your lips moved with one another’s, feeling your heart beating into your throat as you lost yourself into his tongue, but then your eyes widened when you felt him line himself up against you. 

He groaned into the kiss when he felt his tip going in, just his tip, and he was already moaning at the feeling of it. This was definitely different from any other times he had sex. This wasn’t just that, it was way more, because he felt his whole body being run over by electricity and fire included. 

But we could be together... if you wanted to.

“Angel, you need to relax– Relax for me…” You didn’t notice how tense you were until he pulled away from you to tell you that. Your eyes locked with his and he was looking down at you with care, with so much care and worry that you sighed, feeling your heart warm at his thought, and your muscles relaxed on him. One of his elbows was keeping him up, while his other hand was pressed on your waist to have some leverage on reality.

He looked down to where you two were beginning to connect as he sunk further, holding in a groan in his throat again, closing his eyes at the feeling, and your mouth fell into a voiceless gasp, staring at the ceiling. It felt good, yet it was a big stretch, but god it felt good. It was painfully good. You could feel him going deeper, each second that passed, your hands all over his back, nails scratching onto his skin.

He leaned down into your exposed neck to make him think of something else as he pulled back slightly, to then thrust into you again, this time further, letting a choked moan escape your lips. He kissed your skin, as he groaned into it, feeling your chest heaving up and down from the intense pleasure you were starting to feel. 

Do I wanna know, if this feeling flows both ways?

“Pl–Please Eddie–” He raised his head to look down at you, to look into your eyes when he finally made the final push, and he bottomed out inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips as a groan escaped his.

“Fuck…” He couldn’t help but curse at the extreme feeling he was experiencing with you. You were full of him, and you loved it, god you were loving it. Your heartbeat against your chest as your legs raised up against his hips to feel him even more into you. He looked at your eyes again and you nodded slowly, not wanting to wait any longer, the room already becoming hell from how hot it was, and he sucked a deep breath in as he threw his hips back, and slowly thrusted back inside of you.

Moans filled the room, volume increasing at each slow thrust of his, a pace that was driving him insane, but when looking down at your face, he knew you were loving. He leaned down to kiss your cheek as he kept moving his hips against yours, your hands gripping the back of his head as he moaned into your skin, his muscles flexing at the intensity of it all. 

You needed more, more, more, you couldn’t stop chanting that word in your head, so your hips started moving, going against his rhythm to fasten the pace, to make him go deeper into you, because your belly was screaming for more, your heart was tugging for more, your body needed more of him, more of Eddie.

Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you'd stay.

“You don’t know– You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… To have you like this– fuck.” He moaned into your ear and you whimpered at the words, tears prickling in your eyes as he caught your message and his pace quickened, now the slapping of skin being louder, causing your body to flush all over, and you wanted to tell him the same, you wanted to express to him that you wanted him, that you took some time to realize it, but it had always been there.

He pulled away from your skin to put both hands at the side of your head, staring down at you, as his hips started snapping against yours, the feeling of him inside of you deeper than before, the force of his thrusts sending you into a crazed state, into a place in your mind where you didn’t know who you were, or where you were at.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and he moaned a curse when he felt you pushing him into yourself, your nails scratching onto his arms now, your mouth open with moans coming out of it, eyes closed and lost in the pleasure. He gulped heavily as he looked down at your body, taking mental pictures of how you bounced, of how you moved, of how your body twitched and yearned for him. 

Baby, we both know… That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

“Eddie– Eddie, god–” You moaned loud, your senses all filled with him, your body marked by him, your insides being full of him, each hard thrust, every change of pace, every moan you heard from him. You couldn’t have enough, and your belly was already coiling again with that elastic band, wanting to break loose. 

He was breathing heavily, sweat now prickling on his skin instead of the water rain from before. He felt himself getting close, how could he not? He had rubbed himself on you, on the mattress, and pleasuring you was almost enough to make him finish right then and there. He stopped his movements to wrap his arms around you, lifting your upper body off the mattress, as he sat back, making you sit on him in a straddling position.

“Ed-Eds, I don’t know, this position–” You breathed heavily as your mind tried to think again but he shook his head, holding onto your hips as he kissed your neck softly, mumbling onto your skin.

“I’ll guide you, I’ll help you—” And he started guiding you up and down on him, slowly, as your hands clenched on his shoulders, your mouth falling agape at how deeper he was than before. You never changed positions, and this was very new to you, but your embarrassment was completely overshadowed by the incredible lust you were feeling, by the desire of wanting to keep making him feel good. 

Crawling back to you. Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do.

You followed his guidance, your hips moving up and down, almost bouncing on him, his thighs clenching at the feeling as his moans filled the room. His arms were wrapped around you, pulling you flushed into his own body. He just wanted you close, closer, wanting to feel your skin on his as you both tried to near your climax. Your hand creeped up onto his hair, and just like that first night you saw each other, you grabbed his ponytail, with no guidance, and pulled his hair off the bun he had, letting his curls fall down onto his shoulders. He smiled up at you, shaking his head as you leaned down to capture his lips with your own, licking onto his bottom lip as you kept your pace on him.

Your walls started clenching on him, and he knew he was going to lose it. He pulled away from you and then he leaned down to take a nipple of yours into his mouth, sucking on it, and that made you throw your head back with a loud moan escaping your lips, the coil in your belly about to break, about to make you see stars once more. Your nails were digging into his skin, and you needed more friction, you needed more.

“Eddie– Eddie–” You asked for him, you asked for help, and he nodded, pulling away from your chest to look up at you. He pushed your hips down, not letting you go up again, and started motioning you to go forward and back, rubbing yourself on him. Your eyes widened when you felt this new feeling. This position was letting you rub your spongy part on him, your g-spot, repeatedly, and that was making your mind lose complete control of your body.

Your hips started grinding against his, faster, and faster, trying to reach that climax, and he was almost whining underneath you, trying to hold in his own orgasm to be able to feel you around him first. He needed to feel you clench around him, he needed it. Your upper body was thrown back slightly as one hand was gripped onto his shoulder and the other on his arm that was still holding you.

“Fuck, Angel–” You looked like a goddess to him right now, using him for your own pleasure, grinding faster and faster until he felt your tense up, the elastic band in your belly breaking again, your vision going completely white as your walls clenched tightly around him, a new type of climax, one that would not compare to anything else in your entire life.

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new, now, I've thought it through.

“Eddie–!” You screamed his name and he was moaning as he felt your walls sucking him in and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, your name falling off his lips in a chant, in a prayer as his own body stiffened, and he finally released himself inside of the condom, his heart exploding inside his chest as you both rode your orgasms with one another.

Heavy pants were heard all over the room, and Eddie held you up as your body felt a little wobbly from everything you just experienced. Your mind was almost gone, drifting away, slowly, your eyes heavy but there is so much you want to say, so much you want to do, but the fire was gone. For the first time, the fire was gone for a while.

“Angel–” He breathed out, and he felt you clench on him again, making him curse. “Don’t do that… Sweetheart, let’s get cleaned up…” He really didn’t want to move, but he knew you two were completely soaked in sweat, in rain, and that you needed to clean yourself. He helped you off him, pulling out of you earning a whimper from your part at the loss of him. 

He got up from the bed and he noticed the hazy look in your eyes. You were drained, he knew that, so he guided you into the bathroom for you to clean yourself up as he took the wet comforter off your bed for the two of you to lay on dry sheets at least. His heart was wildly beating in his chest, taking the condom off him and tying it up. He looked at the tissues that were on the other night table, grabbing some to put the condom inside to hide it in a ball of paper, before cleaning himself with some tissues. 

He heard the toilet flush, and he looked at the door to see you walking inside in still a dizzy state, and opening the sheets to finally get inside. He smiled at you, knowing how much energy was just drained from you. He pulled the sheets open to move towards you. You were looking at him, trying to keep your eyes open to talk to him, but only one thing came out.

“I want to kiss you…” He felt his whole body relax at that, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. You gave a sigh out of relief as you immediately fell asleep. His heart was in his throat as he looked down at you, breathing evenly now, and he took a deep breath in as he laid down on the bed himself, and he looked at you again.

He never cuddled after sex. Cuddling after sex meant you cared for the other person, so he never felt the need to do such a thing, but now… He needs to keep you close. He needs to keep you with him at all times. He needs you to be in his arms at every time possible, because he can’t ever let go of you again. No, he can’t let you go.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him as you mumbled something in your sleep, finally making you rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. His heart was exploding, he knew that, but he wanted you. He really wanted you. He had wanted you for the past month. He got you, and it wasn’t enough, and he knew it wasn’t going to be enough. 

With a smile to his face, he closed his eyes, succumbing to sleep, knowing that tomorrow everything will change between the two of you, and there was no escaping it, no way of avoiding it. Now, it was time to face it all, and Eddie was going head first because for you… Everything was worth it when it came to you.

Do you want me crawling back to you?

End of part 6

A/N: So... yeah. Here you saw the reason why this fic is called Do I wanna know... and if it wasn't specific enough, it is indeed Eddie's feelings towards Reader.

I hope you liked this chapter, i hope you stayed far enough and always reblog your artists!

Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!

Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @sillypurplemurple @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @justheretostalk @vintagehellfire @trixyvixx @steeldaisies @bitchyseawitch @seventhlevelofhell @leelei1980 @kbakery @corroded-hellfire @poofyloofy @nightonblogmountain @gothvamp1973 @hideoutside @mrsjellymunson @honey-eyed-munson @sarcastically-defensive17 @narutofan249277 @siriuslysmoking @hereforshmut @venuslayla23-blog @ghost-proofbaby

[ynyaan]

𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⚔ | 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ࣪𖤐

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ♕

𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩-𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: Loki didn’t lack in giving you anything. He was attentive to your needs and is a surprisingly good lover. Alas, his endless gifts and spoilings leave you feeling guilty for receiving so much. You have never asked for anything specifically until one day; you had an ache to take something of his. “I must not be doing my job right if my love still wants something?”

.ᐟ 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙤𝙣

...

Loki has never failed to give you anything. Actually, most of his gifts are of his own accord. From silver jewelry to gems of every color, he gave whenever he could. You have always been grateful for it, but constantly receiving gifts knowing you can never repay them, leaves a bubbling guilt inside your stomach.

“Loveee!” A cheerful voice enters the living room. You were sat on the kitchen counter eating fruits while the large television played a nostalgic show.

“Loki, you’re back!” You grin. A smile you will forever greet him with everytime he comes back unscathed.

“Of course. I have a gift to present my divine goddess.” Loki motioned to his hand. A pink paper bag he had held tightly was now waving at your face. An excited ‘Oh’ formed at your lips as you grab whatever is inside. A soft texture arrives at your touch as you take it out. It was a fluffy textured box usually containing rings.

“Loki…” You began, “I told you, I dont need THIS many gifts! You’ve given more than enough!” You try to protest, but a hand to your face stopped your antics.

“Darling, I will spoil you as I please.”

“Yes but why must all of them be top-grade? Treasures that I cannot repay!” You pouted, your eyebrows pressed together.

Loki grabbed your cheek and caressed it softly. “I will only ever give you gifts worth your time, sweetheart.” Before you could exchange another sentence of no’s, the phone ringing suddenly filled the room with a repetitive chime.

Loki released his hold on you and walked further away to pick up his phone. He was speaking but it was inaudible. His facial expression created tension among his bones. Instead of wondering what they were discussing about, you instead took in Loki’s length and the extent of his obsession with coats. His pants that were worn out from battle and a dagger…

A dagger that shone gold and green, attached to his boots. The pocket being sheer enough to see through the detail of the weapon. It was by far, one of the most gorgeous daggers you’ve seen Loki owned. It’s silver hilt that had ‘LOKI’ engraved in little letters.

“(y/n)?” Your head snaps back to Loki walking to you.

“So? What do you think of the gift?” He grins, all the stress from his face faded away without a trace.

You nod, “its beautiful, of course. I love it. Thank you Loki.”

Days flew by, yet the ache in your heart would not stop bubbling. Your mind had an itch you could not satisfy, a picture popping up in your mind the moment your eyes fluttered close.

You wanted that dagger. To use something of Loki’s, something flashy yet something soft to your touch. Unfortunately, you would rather go mute than ever ask anything from him. He has simply given you way too much, things and memories you simply cannot repay.

“Somethings wrong.”

His voice snapped your train of thought. The fruits you've been cutting have taken you atleast 20 minutes already. You hum in response before feeling his arms wrap around your waist behind you. “Tell me what it is that troubles you, my sweet.”

You bit your lip. Why on earth do you even wish for that stupid dagger? Your vanity table that had trinkets and jewelry in every box and corner, your closet filled with every type of clothing all painted in your favorite colors. Why do you want something of his? Something you barely would use anyway!

“I-,” you shut your eyes tight. Unable to keep the frustration in.

“Go ahead.” Loki snuggles his face onto the crook of your neck. He tightens his grip, encouraging you to go on.

“I- um, whew, I want…I mean, Ive been wanting something.” You sigh in relief, glad you could finish your sentence.

Loki releases his hold on you, turns you so that you are met with his face. His eyebrows is raised and a grin is formed by his lips. He chuckles lightly, “You want something…” he buries himself on your shoulder. This might just be the first time you actually ask for something specific from the God of Mischief.

“I must not be doing my job right if my love still wants something?” He teased, yet your feelings wavered. How could he think he’s not doing his ‘job’ right when he’s actually given way too much?

A louder chuckle escapes his lips as you feel him grin against you. “I had simply meant that I hoped to give you the world.” He whispers softly, enough for you to hear.

He faces you now, grabbing you on both your shoulders. “Tell me, my sweet, sweet, lover.” He puts his point finger under your chin and tilts it slightly higher. “What is it that you wish for?”

You lowered your head realizing how ridiculous your next words will sound, wanting such a simple thing yet asking for it sheepishly. “…dagger.”

Loki’s eyes lit up. He raises his hand and suddenly something shone brightly from it, he had summoned the exact dagger you wanted.

“Im glad it caught your eye. Its a special design you see, something unique from all the others.” He grabs your hand and places the dagger inside of it just before kissing your fingers.

“Remember, everything I have is yours and soon enough, I will have, the nine realms.” You nod as you clutched his new gift.

“Thank you, it truly is magnificent.”

𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙: Star (@_ynyaan) ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[gardensofthemoon]

28, chengxian!

28 - in parting

The wind was rustling through the field of tall grasses as a woman’s raspy wail, perturbing the sprawling sea of stalks and wildflowers from their lazy swaying. Across the strip of clouded sky there loomed the craggy hillside, curving as the spine of a beaten beast. The textured greenery unfolded as far as the eye could see.

“Just a little more, Jiang Cheng!”

Wei Wuxian halted and looked back.

Behind him, Jiang Cheng was trudging up the winding dirt path, pausing to catch his breath when he judged Wei Wuxian distracted. Which was often—not that Wei Wuxian could forget about his precious charge, but if Jiang Cheng figured out Wei Wuxian tracked his movements with a hunter’s vigilance he’d feel belittled or worse, coddled. Hurting Jiang Cheng was the last thing Wei Wuxian wanted. 

“You said that five li ago.”

“I did, didn’t I,” Wei Wuxian laughed reflexively, “but now we’re even closer. Almost there.” He spun in place searching around: the rocky ground was covered in untamed vegetation that had never known a gardener’s hand, weeds and shrubbery, brambles and bushes with red fruits hanging from their branches as beaded strings, nectarous and deadly.

They were in the heart of Yiling, in the middle of nowhere.

“We’re on the right track,” Wei Wuxian said.

The location didn’t matter, just that Jiang Cheng believed the ruse. And it was now time for the last precautionary step.

“Wei Wuxian, what’re you doing.”

Wordlessly, Wei Wuxian unspooled a strip of black fabric from his bracer and tied it over Jiang Cheng’s eyes. His lashes were trembling, sweeping in a dark fan against his cheek.

“From now on I cannot go with you,” he said. He touched Jiang Cheng’s stiff shoulder and some of that tension melted away. “Follow the path until you hear a bell; you should reach the sect in about half a shí.”

From where it had rested on Jiang Cheng, his hand slid upwards cupping the curve of Jiang Cheng’s cheek, running a thumb just beneath the blindfold. Wei Wuxian kissed his covered eye, then his other one, light as a mothwing.

Jiang Cheng’s mouth parted slightly; he wetted his lip. Swallowed. Wei Wuxian wanted to swipe the pad of his finger over that glistening, bitten lip, or pinch his cheek, or kiss him until his mouth ached. “Don’t get off the trail,” he told him instead. “And be more careful! This is your only chance. I won’t be able to help you again.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said. He looked pitiful, slight and still weak, and Wei Wuxian’s heart lurched. The sooner Jiang Cheng returned as the sect leader he now was, at the height of his power, the better.

Jiang Cheng’s fingers curled on Wei Wuxian’s lapels. “We’ll meet at the foot of the mountain,” he said in a rush, tinged with desperation and—hope, his voice was suffused with such agonising, bone-deep hope Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched as if struck by a sword’s hilt.

“I’ll wait for you,” Wei Wuxian promised.

Jiang Cheng made a small grunt of assent and straightened his shoulders, bracing himself, and leaning on the staff he staggered upwards on the trail. Determined and brave—but the blindfold and simple robes cinched around his thin frame made him look as vulnerable as he was. Bird-boned, sylphlike; wan and waifish. One could gather him up and crunch his bones in their fist. 

“A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian called, seized by a sudden, nameless worry.

Without looking back, Jiang Cheng gave him a little careless wave. Wei Wuxian stopped himself from screaming at him.

In the distance a bell tolled, faint as a memory, and the birds hidden in the grasses took flight.

[do-u-know-this-autisticcharacter]

Do You Know This (non canon) Autistic Character?

Propaganda:

- Restrictive eating, based on texture. (Aversion to any vegetable, to the point where even Ignis knows to not work with carrots because he will just not eat anything with them. Aversion to jellies and custards with the quote "Not a fan of mushy desserts." Will visibly poke at food and then eat it with a decisive movement like it's what he has to do to get it down. Cannot bring himself to eat the tofu, which is perfectly in line with the dislike for "mushy" texture.)

- Narrow and obsessive interests. (FISHING. FISHING??? FISHING! It's the only thing he gets excited about besides his FAVORITE FOODS and his friends make fun of him relentlessly for how he lights up about fishing. His passion for fishing is unmatched. He loves fishing. So many fishing quests, so many dishes that require fishing, so many accessories and fishing spots and photos.)

- Social difficulties. (Often doesn't pick up on small cues, for example: The lady flirting with him at the Galdin restaurant is met with an explanation of what he actually meant, even though she knows that already. He often stutters and stops confusedly when talking to people. There are very straightforward options when responding to Luna's messages, to the point of almost being rude. He also often ducks away from anyone who touches him, even his close friends, and brushes them off quickly and awkwardly. The massage scene is painful to watch because having the masseuse's hands on him looks like it hurts him even though they are visibly being gentle. He HATES being touched. The mechanic to wave at passersby is very stilted and unsure. The outing with Iris is palpably hard for him even if you choose the nice options, he still talks out loud to himself about his negative opinion despite the fact that he does like Iris as a person. Spoilers: He cannot tell apart the mannerisms of his best friend from his worst enemy. Canonically. )

- Self-soothing behavior. (Look I know this is a game, they have idle animations, but stay with me here. Noctis will play with his hair during idle AND when he's talking to people. He's not combing through it to fix it, he's fiddling and petting when he's feeling awkward or confused and he does it a lot, even compared to his companions.)

- Trouble with emotional regulation. ("I'M AS CALM AS I'M GONNA GET. " "I GET IT, ALRIGHT? I GET IT!" and then pulling in on himself to be completely silent and detatched. compared to everyone else in the game, Noctis is the only one having these severe reactions. as for the scene references, iykyk)

- Lack of respect for authority. Lack of respect for authority is not diagnostic criteria, but it speaks to his difficulty in understanding social hierarchies and expectation (You can totally read this as him just being the Prince, but he seems to genuinely be overwhelmed and confused by the reverence expected to be given to royalty. He stutters when calling his father "Your majesty" and outright rolls his eyes and disrepects him. If not contempt for authority, at the very least it's indicative of being unable to read a room. He also tends to avoid subjects like Ignis and Gladio's sworn duty to him, and prefers to act like it doesn't really matter, as with his own royalty. Every time he forced to acknowledge his status it's like they put a vegetable in his mouth.)

Any other details

Whenever the writer wants to make a parallel to Noctis's father, they change Noctis completely in order to do so. Sudden confidence and speeches and knowing exactly what to say to political leaders. I choose to ignore these, because Noctis does not act like that for the majority of the time playing the game and it comes off jarring in my opinion.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Dry-humping with Helaena?

Golden Chains (Helaena Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Helaena isn't yours, but you are always hers.

Warnings: Angst. Implied sex between Helaena and Aegon, Implied SA? To be safe, smut.

A/N: I love Helaena so much, but this was a hard prompt to write. I hope I did it justice.

Helaena sends for you, unexpectedly. The Princess, your Princess, awaits you in her rooms. It’s late. The Red Keep’s halls are empty, except for the guards who give you cheerful waves.

You like it here. It’s a good job. No one bothers you, and not only do you have food and boarding, but also a small stipend. Your Princess, as kind as she is, sometimes slips you little trinkets. A slice of cake here, an embroidery handkerchief there.

In normal circumstances, you would be elated to see that she is calling you. But this late? It can only mean one thing.

As you open the doors to her bedchambers, you try to remain unmoved. After all, the Prince is still there. He always looks a bit sick when he does. Perhaps it’s regret, or perhaps it’s the fact there is a witness there to see exactly what they have done.

It’s a testament of Aegon’s sadness that he doesn’t even give you a lustful glance. Other times, when you pass him in the corridors, he smirks and makes crude remarks. He knows exactly what goes on between you and his sister wife, and he never fails to ask you to join him in bed, too.

He tries to do right by her, in a twisted way. Despite having plenty of evidence to get you fired and probably executed, Aegon never makes a move to separate you from Helaena. You wonder if he hurts as much as she does. Likely. Knowing Aegon, he is only getting started for the night. His next stop will be the Street of Silk, where he will try to get rid of the memory of his wife at any cost.

You shake your head, trying to vanish those thoughts. Aegon is not your concern. He has the other Prince, and numerous guards for that. Helaena has no one but you. Not even her mother could come and face her, in nights like these.

Why would she, out of all people, force her into this marriage? You doubted Queen Alicent’s marriage was more pleasant. Yet instead of marrying Helaena to someone else, she had tied together two of her children, who were clearly unhappy.

Duty. The death of all love, it seemed. Even the maternal kind.

Helaena looks small, huddled among the bed covers. Her eyes are vacantly staring at the ceiling, arms limp and outstretched at her sides. If it were not for the rapid movement her chest makes as she inhales and exhales, you would think she is a statue.

“Princess, what do you need? Shall I run you a bath?” You keep your voice soft and unhurried, as not to startle her. You do not approach her further.

Helaena lifts her head from the pillow. Her expression is cold. “’Tis the burden of every noblewoman” She had said to you once, as you poured water down her back. “Nothing to be done about it.”

It broke your heart then. It breaks your heart now, that you cannot help her. Baths are a poor consolation for what she has to endure.

You don’t move. Helaena stares.

“Will you come here?” Helaena finally asks, throwing her covers down. She is dressed as always, in a thin sleeping shift, without lace or any of the frills usually added to entice reluctant husbands. You know she has issues with the textures, sometimes. That what to you is a normal touch, to her feels wrong.

You approach her as soon as she bids you. She doesn’t like to wait. Without needing to be told to, you sit on the edge of the bed.

“I need…” The Princess blushes, all sweet. You feel the urge to smile. Even if suffering, she is never less than polite. “Could you? Um. I… I feel… My husband has left me… Unsatisfied again. I need… I’m burning up.”

“Would a cold bath suffice, or do you wish for me to…?” You don’t dare finish the sentence, just as she doesn’t dare fully ask for what she needs. Perhaps, if not spoken aloud, you can pretend the circumstances are different.

“Please?” The Princess asks, looking tearful. You nod, kneeling on the bed.

“Do you want my…"

“Your thigh.”

The unexpected. At last. You pop one of your hips slightly forward, so your knee juts out just so. Helaena smiles between the tears and pulls you into a kiss.

Against her mouth, you breathe heavily. You do not touch her. Not from fear, no. Because on nights like these, she can’t stand anybody’s touch. And you do not mind it.

This arrangement between the two of you had started when you started serving the Targaryens. Young, and of a similar age to Princess Helaena, you had been designated as her maid after the old one got fired. It meant many things, in practice. You had to supervise her children, the sweet young twins. Manage her daily schedule. Make sure her rooms are kept tidy and neat, help her dress. If Princesses were allowed to have a Hand, that would be what you were to Helaena.

At the same time, you knew you were more. You doubted the Lord Hand cared for King Viserys as you did for your Princess. Spending so much time with someone forced you to have opinions on them, and while you knew little of servitude, with the Red Keep being your first job, you knew she was a good mistress.

Helaena was odd. Peculiar. Most maids couldn’t stand her, Queen Alicent had explained, as she gave you the breakdown of your daily duties. Loud noises upset her, the same with certain textures and some foods. Helaena is very picky about what to eat, and she wants everything done in the exact fashion every day. You had thought at first Helaena was a terror, but soon came to realize it was not on a whim. She needed her routines.

That was why visits from her husband were so disruptive and upsetting. Prince Aegon was unpredictable, as many drunks were. Some nights, he would come to her chambers nearly unconscious. Other nights, he would be in a boisterous good mood. Angry, some days. And he took all of those on her.

He was not a good lover, you had heard. Another maid, one in charge of the children, had told you her predecessor had left because the Prince had made advances towards her. Advances so bad, she had to drink moon tea after, supplied by the very hand of the Queen. Aegon was prone to taking women by force, it seemed, because each time he visited Helaena, she crumbled like a house of cards.

You wondered what that must be like. You were uncertain if she felt like she was doing her duty to the realm, or disgusted by the fact that it was her sibling. Her body seemed to respond well to him, so you guessed he had some care for his Lady Wife he didn’t display towards others. Not enough, in your opinion. Because Helaena always felt unsatisfied after.

And as her Hand, it was you who had to fix it. It had started one night, as she had begged you for a cold bath to cool her blood. Despite the strange request, you had obeyed. And as your Princess sat down, shivering and sniffling for the cold water you poured down her back, she had leaned in and kissed you.

One look at those big, pleading blue eyes, and you were a goner. The Faith of the Seven said it was a sin to lay with another woman. Yet, you didn’t agree. You were not a woman of letters, to be able to read the Seven Pointed Star, but how could something that felt so good be a sin? To you, it was another way of serving your lady. And you had heard at the Sept, once, that a servant must love her Queen. What was the harm in loving Helaena a little earlier?

Some nights, Helaena wanted to please you, too. She brought you joy so great it made you scream and cry. What could be closer to the Seven Heavens than this? Your body tensing like the string of a bow under her skillful hands, so used to embroidering and painting. Her hands, her hands, how you loved them. For what they did to you, for what they taught you to do to her. Guiding yours towards her center, as you worshiped the curve of her hips, her breasts, you felt you were kissing the statue of the Mother herself.

But other nights, like these, she couldn’t stand the touch of your hands. It was too much for her and not enough, and she was burning up, mouth parting in the sweetest of ecstasies. Ready for the taking of a man who didn’t care to bring her joy. And hurting. Hurting so much, she had no option but to lick her wounds. She was too proud to do so in front of a servant, a Targaryen despite her sweetness. So she took selfishly from your body, again and again.

Not pleasure. No. It was a cruel, cruel game. She left you all hot and bothered, chasing her joy. Despite it, you loved her like this, too. Taking what she deserved, as the kindest, sweetest Princess of the realm. It made you proud. Here was something Prince Aegon, despite his blood and titles, couldn't give her. You could. You could because your love was not selfish. If she asked, you would break time and time again under her. You would withstand the harshest punishments, if you got her to yourself once more. If it meant not sharing her.

Helaena shifted on the bed, to straddle your thigh. Her nightgown remained in place, as did your dress and apron. Her hands shyly wrapped around your shoulders, eyes fixated on somewhere far away. Never yours.

Her hips rolled against your leg.

“Like this. Oh… Just like this.” In the sweetest, sweetest whisper. You placed a hesitant hand on her waist. Trying to help her hips find a rhythm, but she bated it away, pouting.

Cheeks flushed. A deliciously dark expression. Sinful. So it was that kind of night. She only wanted to take, take, take. Not be given.

Your leg started to cramp. You didn’t dare move. Not when it would mean losing this. The view of your Princess using you as she would any other tool. Taking her pleasure of your body, as her husband had done from hers.

Did it help? You wanted to ask, after these nights. But you never did. Helaena didn’t like talking. She was reserved. Tuned inwards instead of outwards, as your mother used to say. Feelings were a complex topic to her, but again, to whom weren’t?

Other maids said she was weird. Fey when she spoke, unable to look them in the eyes. You guessed they never saw her like this. Glorious. Sweet. The sweetest. There was a reason the realm loved this Princess of yours.

Other nights, when you two were together without Aegon’s shadows, you allowed yourself to dream. Of asking her to run away with you, of being able to call her fully yours. You never asked. You knew her too well. Helaena was a faithful mother and wife, and much too kind. It would destroy her family.

Sometimes, you thought that was not the real reason. You never asked her because you were afraid she wouldn’t understand. You heard once that when birds were raised in cages, and they escaped, they never survived more than a few days. They weren’t used to freedom and once granted, they didn’t know what to do with it. So they withered away.

Her hips stuttered, little punched out sobs becoming harder to contain. You tensed the muscles of your leg, hoping to aid her along. Helaena rutted against you, harder, faster. Mouth sweetly searching yours, kissing your cheek each time she missed. Your hands didn’t move.

Perhaps, in another world, you two could have been together. A world where your love was not forbidden, a world when everyone could love who they pleased. Where you could scream all your joy when Helaena touched you. But as she tensed against you, mouth parting to scream, you had to kiss her to muffle it. This was not that world. It would never be.

[brown-little-robin]

Hello, Robin!! *waves*

Since we got onto the topic of synesthesia, now I’m quite curious: how did you come to find out that you had synesthesia? What did that process look like for you?

Hi, Grace!! *waves back*!

YEAH OKAY SO! It was pretty interesting! In a nutshell, it went: I hear about synesthesia and go "couldn't be me! my color associations must be made-up and only in my head!". I learn that not everyone sees real-time subtitles in their mental space. I learn that not everyone has a mental space. weird, but okay. I keep thinking about it for a few years. I read various synesthete's descriptions of their own experiences, including symptoms that are different from what I initially assumed was The Only True Synesthesia. (useful athough limited terms: "associative" versus "projective" synesthesia.) I talk to a psychology grad student who explains how synesthesia works, physically, in the brain. I finally accept that I process almost everything through the color center of my brain. Every concept, thought, sound, and touch-sensation registers as "color/light" to me. I have two fields of vision, which I cannot turn on or off at will: the physical one and the mental one, and sometimes they overlap. I decide that I definitely have synesthesia.

Basically, the process of finding out I had synesthesia was part paying careful, consistent attention to how my brain works, and part learning how other people's brains work. I had to learn that my experiences were not just What Everyone Does, and come up with my own terms for my own experiences as well as adopting certain existing terms!

Detailed timeline of Robin's Synesthesia Adventure below the cut! <3

1) At age 10, I have an argument with dad where I argue that 5 is green, and he says it's red, and I say NO it's GREEN, and he says "well it could really be either, I could see 5 being green", and I stop, confused, and think ....no, every number is only ONE color (except for the number 2 which is two colors at once), what is he talking about. I could understand 5 being red for dad and green for me, but the idea that 5 was totally unconnected to color, that this argument had no basis in reality? that was weird.

2) years later, I learn the term "synesthesia". Cool! I think. Couldn't be me, since when I look at the number five, it isn't green on the page, exactly. It's just green in my head, and sometimes on the page. Same with all the other letters and numbers, and with sounds and textures. High short sounds only make bright neon flashes in my head, and cello is only brown and fuzzy in my head, and guitar only makes sharp metallic shapes in my head, and so on; it's not like I'm actually seeing sounds. Also, "R" is "red", and "Y" is yellow, and "G" is green, and many such things; if I really had synesthesia, surely the pairings would be totally random and not influenced by my culture or the stuff I grew up with. surely.

3) I read a book from the perspective of a character with synesthesia (who also had magic alien communication powers related to that), and HER symptoms were so extreme that it confirmed me in the belief that I definitely did not have synesthesia, because I don't like, hallucinate! (note: the definition of hallucination is a bit loose. you could argue that I do hallucinate. but anyway.) but I, unlike this fictional character, don't react physically to sound-colors like they're real! Except when things are so loud that I experience them as bright and instinctively close my eyes, but that doesn't count. surely.

4) I get into a research rabbit-trail on synesthesia. synesthesia is so cool! what is it like to have that? from the inside? wait, this sounds like me. wait, you can have associative synesthesia versus projective synesthesia?? what's the difference?? WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I HAVE BOTH ASSOCIATIVE AND PROJECTIVE SYNESTHESIA. I have to be making this up. I don't think these words exactly fit my experiences; I definitely see the colors I associate with things, but not in the real world, not exactly, not all the time. hmm.

5) I learn that most people don't experience ticker-tape synesthesia (involuntarily seeing captions as people speak). It is at THIS point that I first go: yeah, I definitely have SOMETHING. I DEFINITELY have THAT. But then I think, wait, I don't see captions for ALL LANGUAGES. that must mean I'm making it up. when people speak a different language than English around me, all I see is blobs of color, like how it looks when people sing without words, and occasional "captions" when I pick up something that my brain can transliterate into Roman characters. surely this is not synesthesia. this is just... Thinking.

6) After upwards of a year of wondering about this and observing myself, I come to the conclusion that although the specific associations are not intrinsic to my brain (for instance, I develop color associations with friends that I don't have with strangers, and letters correspond to related colors), my synesthesia is both consistent and involuntary; piano was white sparkles five years ago, and it's still white sparkles now. I am not making it up on purpose. It happens whether I want it to or not, and I cannot turn the sensations off when I try. This is just something my brain does. (note: recently I've been having fun watching my brain come up with colors for the Japanese characters I'm learning! ら,る,れ, and ろ are all red :])

6.5) I meet a grad student in psychology at my university who hears that I think I might have synesthesia. He is DELIGHTED to share the current research on exactly how synesthesia forms in the brain with me, out loud and via sketching on a napkin. I kid you not, on a napkin. I learn that synesthesia is a physical process in the brain, and that almost every baby is born with some form of synesthesia; sensational signals (electrical impulses) travel to multiple receiving parts of their brain through your neurons. Eventually, baby brains figure out to send visual signals only to certain areas, such as the color and shape sensing areas, and auditory signals only to auditory receiving, and so on, without triggering the other parts. HOWEVER. Synesthetes' brains never quite lose some of the more convoluted sensational paths. (side note: you can also develop synesthesia later in life because the brain is very flexible and very weird. people sometimes gain it after a brain injury, for instance.) anyway, I, personally, seem to route all of my sensations through the color processing area in the brain. I don't know why, but maybe because it seems to be useful to my memory recall systems! When I try to retrieve memories, the first thing I always think of is the color I associate with a memory/concept/thought. Then my brain uses that color as a key to find the related memory/concept/thought.

Wow.

7) Sharing this experience isn't necessary to have synesthesia, but I realize that my synesthesia significantly affects my functioning; due to having two fields of vision that overlap sometimes (like glass being laid over the real world or something), I get easily overwhelmed/overstimulated. And being overwhelmed causes my "synesthesia vision" to overlap MORE with the real world, causing more distress, causing a spiral of overstimulation that I seek to escape via closing my eyes, putting on music in earbuds, or leaving the room. A lot of what I and others had labeled "being shy", I realized, wasn't that I didn't want to be around people; it was my body getting stressed out and overwhelmed and trying to escape the double vision by any means necessary. It also gave me a tendency to dissociate and ignore my body. I become gentler with myself and learn to work with my brain, including knowing when to embrace discomfort and open my senses versus when to accept that the current overwhelm is not helpful and dissociate intentionally and/or remove myself to a quieter environment.

8) present day! I am still learning more about synesthesia and I love talking to people with different forms of it, or people with related conditions like aphantasia (face-blindness / inability to mentally visualize). I also like to argue about it. April is pale purple and I will FIGHT YOU on that.

if you have any questions or comments or things that stood out to you about this you'd like to exclaim over, please feel free to reply or dm or send an ask about it!! I Love Talking About Synesthesia >:D

[gutsandsweets]

Fictober day 4

Prompt #5; "It's a new day, let's go!

Characters: Nefertari Vivi, Karoo, Pell the Falcon

﹏﹏﹏

As the sun rose over the horizon, the light shine into the buildings and brightened rooms all over the land. Shadows shifted, the darkness covering only the backgrounds of urbanization now.

People all over begin to open their eyes,some more reluctantly than others. Front Doors were opening left and right as people went on their way to get an early start to whatever they had planned for the day. Some made small talk with others as they continued to wake up. Not even long into the start of a new day, and the citizens were already as lively as ever.

Among them was the inhabitants residing in the Royal castle. Some had already woken up before the others to start their separate duties earlier. The king and his subordinates had been up for quite some time now, walking around the grand building as they did thing after thing. They chatted amongst each other with various topics rolling off of their tongues. Steps and voices echoed through the vast halls of the castle, and anyone who hasn't already been up was now starting to rise. The sun was about half way up now, illuminating more than half of the entire city.

Shifting could be heard from a nearby room, white and adorned with a few limited decorations. Inside the room sat the princess of the kingdom, Nefertari Vivi. She had awoken not too long ago, stretching her arms above her head in a silent yawn as she went to get ready. She had many things that she needed to accomplish today; the duties of royalty never restedto the dismay of many. As she moved around her room, she grabbed a simple but fitting outfit for the day from her long closet. After a bit of pondering, she had chosen a soft fabric dress with small ruffles near the top line and sleeves with a similar texture and shape of their own. The waist and ahoudlers of the long dress had luxurious golden jewelry on it, fit for royalty but not too over the top.

Vivi wasn't much of a person to flaunt her status, and didn't want to wear anything too contradicting that could seem possibly portray her seem as such- arrogant, overly egotistical and pushy was exactly what she strived to never be. Not for her life, and not for anyone else's.

As she slipped on the clean dress after setting her sleep wear aside, she grabbed a deep royal purple brush and ran it through her hair. Once she was done with that, Vivi grabbed her typical flower hairclip that she used to hold her hair back. Readjusting the sheets, pillows, and blankets in an organized matter for when she returned to it once again at the night.

As she made a few finishing touches, she opening her door slowly. The sound of words went through her ears as she smiled and started to walk through that various halls. As she saw people, she would politely wave to them and ask how they were doing/had slept. After a few minutes, she had reached the front area of the place. The patter of feet and squaks could be heard behind her, catching her attention as her smile stretched across her face.

She shifted her body to face the source of the sound, where it had come from.

As she did, her duck companion, karoo, was in front of her. He was quite tall- not as much as the princess, but way more than your average duck., He sported his typical chullo hat and cup necklace.

He began to run around her in circles, quacking loudly about who knows what.

The princess began to laugh at this action, a hand held to her mouth as she waited for karoo to slow down. Once he get tired of doing so after a while, she looked back down to him while she spoke.

"You're very lively today, aren't you? Hehe!"

He comes to a stop, once again in front of her. He gives his most determined and excited look he can muster up, flapping his wings and hopping up and down. He quacks more in response, and while Vivi cannot quite understand exactly what he's saying, she knows from his tone and how he usually acts.

They begin to walk alongside each other with the princess speaking to him about today's activities. She had a list of things she needed to do outside for the castle. Sometime after they had met up, a tall man dressed In a long white robe and a hat came up to them. Both with brown star-like shapes on the silk. He politely bowed his head in the direction of the princess.

"Good morning, princess Vivi. How did you sleep? " asked Pell.

He was one of the two main guards of the kingdom- The strongest warrior, and a devil fruit user.

The princess looked up with a curious hum, immediately responding upon seeing who it was.

"Ah, hello Pell! I slept quite alright, but there are many things I would like to do today. so I decided to wake up a bit earlier than usual!"

"Yes, that certainly explains it. What do you plan to do on this sunny day?"

"Mostly just some shopping around the stalls, possibly get some more shirts or jewelry.."

He nodded at her words, understanding that it would be best if he left her to her duties for today. He spoke as he went to turn and walk away.

"Of course. I'll leave you to it then-."

They said their parting words for the morning as she set about to complete the tasks she mentioned. Karoo kept to her side as she exited the entrance of the building, beginning to glance around the land. After a short amount of time, she came upon the stall that had what she had chosen to buy. With a quick pace she moved amongst the spaces.

She turned the corners and structures with her hands clasped in front of her(holding a double handed basket between them both. The sun gleamed over her, warming her skin as the rays shone over the stalls. Each of them sold different things varying from food and crafts all the way to golds and riches. More people could be seen strolling on the streets and sidewalks doing whatever they pleased.

One of the many good things people enjoyed about being a citizen of the Alabama kingdom was how nobody was particularly forbidden from doing anything much. Of course, there were the typical limits, but the royals and higher ups didn't want to be overly controlling over their people. The royals respected the citizens, and the citizens respected the royals. The people were very loyal in return and very rarely complained about anything. Everyone lived together in coordination with their lives.

Vivi went from place to place purchasing various foods, clothing, and jewelry. She talked between the stallholders and others surrounding. She spoke with a smile as she started to return to the palace. Going through the same turns as she had before, and eventually arriving back to it. Opening the doors, she went back to her room to set down the new articles of clothing she had gotten.

With no time at all, most of what the princess needed to do had already been completed. The sun had started it's descent behind the earth in the distance. The shades of the night sky had once again returned, and the princess began to get ready to turn in for the day. She switched back into a clean pair of her sleepwear as she layed back into her bed. She let out a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling of the room. Today was very successful, and she hoped that the days in the near future would be just the same- if not even better.

As the sun returned, the princess opened her eyelids once again. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she prepared for the repetitive cycle of day to continue. She looked out the window as birds passed by. She opened her mouth, speaking with an energetic tone to karoo who layed at the end of the bed.

"Well.. It's a new day. Let's go!"

Ive had this one done for a bit, but needed to work on the next two days since I got a bit behind.. But here it is!!

[thefallenangelsgang]

This is the incomplete scene the line from the tag game is pulled from. I'm not tagging it with anything in the hopes it gets hopelessly buried but I am too excited to not share. I am not kidding when I say narrative has not felt this easy in a long time.

Spoilers for Act 3 of Baldur's Gate, TW for Blood and Body Fluids (spinal fluid to be precise), I wanted the stakes to feel a little higher so I peppered in some bodily trauma hence the blood 'n stuff, brief uncouth language (there's a few fucks sprinkled in there)

Some context for it: this picks up after the failed Elder Brain Domination sequence immediately as the portal closes with the Party in the Astral Plane. The Tav and Narrator is a High Elf named Wynleth, she romanced Gale. All of the Companions (minus Minthara cause she didn't make it into the cool kids club) plus two OCs (repped by hirelings in my gameplay) are present.

Also, Emperor hate if you are sensitive to that. I'm not the Tentacle's biggest fan frankly, hence why this exists.

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

At times the squirming feeling had been uncomfortable. It even had been painful, distracting from whatever I was attempting to focus on. This is a whole other plane of being. The fire in my cranium consumes me, making coherent thought impossible. My mouth is filled with the distinct taste of copper and something I cannot place. Pressure builds and it makes it feel like my eardrums might rupture or perhaps my head might just explode altogether. That almost would be a welcome release from this torture

Then all at once it stops. The sudden shift from everything being too much to feeling nothing at all is damn near deafening in a different way than the pressure and pain was. I loll in disorientation and hands steady me, bracing my shoulders. 

My vision swims at first. Blues and purples and greys swirl like strange liquid in a glass jar. It only adds to the dizziness brought on by the pervasive numbness. The hands are still gripping my shoulders. I can almost feel my hands, almost. The gritty texture against my palms speaks to handfuls of dirt clenched in my fists. I will myself to release them.

It’s muffled but I think someone speaks my name. So close I can feel the vibrations in my chest yet we might as well be separated by an eternity. It’s an effort to bring my hand up to grip their forearm. It’s an even greater effort to bring my head up to look them in the eyes. 

I can’t discern exactly who it is through the intricate dance the colors are doing in my eyes. The figure is dark against the shimmering ethereal background so it is not one of my fairer companions whose complexions would only muddle my identification more. I try to ask for a name but a strained sound is the only thing to push past my lips. Well that and a bit more blood.

A new wave of numbness washes over me starting from the crown of my head and spreading to the very edges of my person. A little clarity comes with it this time and the vertigo subsides.

“Take it easy, you gave us quite a scare.”

Shadowheart. Still muffled but sounding closer by the second. Something I’m hoping resembles a smile graces my face. 

Then The Emperor speaks and a crashing wave of pain drowns the words out, ripping a cry from my mouth. No fresh blood this time though. 

A pulse of Shadowheart’s healing magic surges through me, a touch too harsh considering she is dealing with my brain pan, but I think that can be forgiven given that it sounds like she is reaming the Illithid for all it’s worth. 

“-stupid? Her brain has been scrambled enough. Until she’s stable, kindly shut the fuck up.” 

The silence after is telling. That round of healing must have knocked something back into place though, the dirt comes into sharp focus. I never thought I’d be so happy to see pebbles. I’m less pleased to see the amount of blood and clear liquid that mars the ground and both pairs of knees in my field of view. “Sorry about your pants.”

My speech is still lethargic and ungraceful and I certainly missed the mark on the coy tone I was going for, but the way Gale’s face floods with relief at my coherence feels almost as good as the magic coursing through my veins. 

“My pants? Don’t ever scare me like that again!” The incredulity of his initial statement melts into something of a mix of concern and joy as he cups my face. His eyes betray the fright I put him through though. I wish I had the strength to feel sorry about that but I really can only make room for relief at the moment. “I really thought that was going to be it,” I say thickly before gathering some saliva to spit the fluid in my mouth off to the side. 

“So did we. It was… a lot.” Shadowheart is somewhere behind me. The fear peeks through her usually even cadence. I must have put on quite a show. “Is this clear stuff what I think it is?” I venture and really hope she doesn’t affirm my suspicions. Spinal fluid means something was desperately wrong. I grit my teeth as I wait for a response.

“Y-Yes. I think so at least.” Now she touches me. A gentle hand between my shoulder blades. “You’d think they turned on a hose the way it sprayed out of you, darling.”

The urge to laugh at Astarion’s colorful retelling of the events is a difficult fight, one I lose. I bury it into my shoulder and try to cover it with a cough but the way Gale clucks his tongue at the comment of very poor taste breaks the dam. My reaction cracks a smile on the wizard’s face, however miniscule, though. 

“I’m sorry my love, it’s all just a little absurd,” I say, still gallantly attempting to retain some composure.

“You’re cracking.” 

“Spectacularly.”

Teasing each other in this moment seems entirely irreverent to the fact that I almost just died and that the situation we are in just got a whole lot more grim but the Gods can strike us down for attempting to find some levity. 

Gently I lean forward and rest my head against Gale’s shoulder. I’m fucking tired and I feel lightheaded despite everything Shadowheart has done but there’s very little she can do about that without actual supplies. I’m short a not insubstantial bit of liquid between the blood and the spinal fluid. It certainly looks worse than it is though. We could try a cocktail of potions and elixirs to get me back up to speed but I think I’d rather rest a bit before we try drugging me into fighting shape. Gale’s arms around me feel nice.

“Am I all clear Shadowheart?” I turn to rest my temple on Gale’s clavicle. From this vantage I can see my party gathered around in a tight bunch wearing grim faces of worry. Shadowheart looks exhausted, I likely took quite a bit out of her, but she nods. 

The Emperor floats back over and makes a motion like it’s asking permission to speak, shocking me more than it probably should. But if the psionic link is going to turn my brain to soup then maybe it is best to ask the cleric first before she has to revive me again. Her stern gaze is comforting and promises hell if I end up with more liquid leaking out my nose. 

The psionics aren’t painful per se, they certainly are more uncomfortable than usual. I try not to grimace too much and make Shadowheart call the communication off. Charades are not indicative of good battle plans and I have a feeling reading is only going to make the lingering headache worse. Besides, we really don’t have time.

“The situation is worse than I thought.” I watch Astarion roll his eyes theatrically. He chooses to keep his mouth shut. Smart man. “What you went up against is an Elder Brain no longer. The magic of the crown has caused it to evolve. It has become something more - a Netherbrain.”

“Is that why I took up the role of a garden water feature when I tried to dominate it?” The withering looks I get from my companions are severe. I roll my eyes gently and burrow into Gale’s neck a little more. Try coping with this clusterfuck in a reasonable manner. 

“I wouldn’t have used that turn of phrase but- yes. It unleashed the psionic power back on you. You are lucky I pulled you out of there. We nearly lost everything.”

And reality comes crashing down.

[transparencyhub]

The Future of Football Boots: How Puma is Leading the Charge with Innovation

In the dynamic world of football, where every move, every sprint, and every goal counts, the importance of the right football boots cannot be overstated. Puma, a brand synonymous with excellence, innovation, and performance, has steadily risen to the forefront of the football industry, crafting some of the best football boots available today. With a steadfast commitment to pushing the boundaries of technology and design, Puma has transformed how footballers experience the game, and their latest advancements point to a promising future. In this article, we’ll delve into how Puma is redefining the football boot landscape, making waves in the UK market, and why now is the perfect time to buy Puma football boots online.

Puma's Revolutionary Approach to Football Boot Design

Puma’s approach to football boot design is anchored in innovation. This is not merely about aesthetics or branding; rather, it’s a thoughtful blend of engineering, design, and player-centric features that elevate performance. Puma has focused on creating boots that provide an advantage on the field, combining lightweight materials, advanced grip technology, and ergonomic shapes to accommodate the needs of every type of player.

Lightweight Materials for Enhanced Speed

Puma understands that speed is crucial in football. To support this, they have pioneered the use of ultra-lightweight materials that allow players to move faster while maintaining stability. Boots like the Puma Ultra series are prime examples of this innovation, featuring an innovative woven upper that provides the ideal balance between weight reduction and strength. This not only helps players achieve explosive speed but also enhances control, making it easier to handle the ball during high-speed plays.

Advanced Traction Technology

Football is a game of rapid changes in direction, sprints, and sudden stops. Recognising this, Puma has developed sophisticated soleplate technology to provide superior grip and traction. The GripControl Pro technology, for instance, used in boots like the Puma Future Z series, is designed for responsive play, ensuring players have the footing required to stay stable while making quick turns or sprints. This cutting-edge traction technology has made Puma boots increasingly popular amongst players at all levels, as it reduces the risk of slipping and allows for maximum control on varied surfaces.

Customisation and Fit: Personalised Comfort

One of the areas where Puma truly excels is customisation and fit. Every footballer has unique needs and foot shapes, and Puma acknowledges this diversity with boots that can adapt to a player’s specific requirements.

The Fusion of Comfort and Precision with Puma’s Adaptive Fit System

Puma’s Adaptive Fit System is engineered to provide a snug yet flexible fit, ensuring that players can move comfortably without any hindrance. This system, featured prominently in Puma’s Future series, uses FUZIONFIT+ technology – a system of stretchy bands around the midfoot that adapt to the foot's natural shape, offering a secure fit without sacrificing agility. This not only enhances comfort but also provides a more personalised fit, which helps reduce the risk of blisters and other discomforts common in competitive play.

GripControl Pro: Optimising Ball Control

For any footballer, controlling the ball is essential. Puma’s GripControl Pro coating provides a fine texture on the boot's surface, which enhances ball handling in challenging conditions, including wet surfaces. By improving grip, Puma ensures that every touch is responsive, giving players confidence in both wet and dry conditions. This feature is especially valued by midfielders and strikers who rely on precise handling to outperform opponents, and it’s one of the reasons Puma boots are gaining traction among professional players.

Adult's Football Boots Puma Future Play MG White Fuchsia

Performance and Style Combined: Puma Football Boots in the UK Market

Football boots are no longer just about performance; they are also about style and expression. Puma has mastered the art of blending high-performance technology with sleek, stylish designs that appeal to a broad audience. This has made Puma a sought-after brand among football enthusiasts in the UK, where the brand continues to lead in the best Puma football boots sale.

Bold Colours and Sleek Designs

Puma's boots are recognised for their bold colour schemes and unique patterns, making them a fashionable choice both on and off the field. From neon accents to minimalist tones, Puma offers a wide variety of designs that appeal to diverse tastes. The Future Z, for instance, has gained popularity not only for its technological advancements but also for its eye-catching design. By creating boots that look as good as they perform, Puma appeals to a younger audience that values both function and fashion.

Availability and Accessibility in the UK

With an extensive presence in the UK, Puma football boots are easily accessible through various online stores and sports shops. Shoppers can conveniently buy Puma football boots online, taking advantage of regular discounts and sales. The brand’s commitment to affordability and accessibility has contributed to its growing popularity, and buying online allows customers to access a wider range of styles and sizes, often at a better price.

Puma's Sustainable and Ethical Manufacturing Practices

As consumer awareness about environmental sustainability grows, Puma has taken significant strides in ensuring that their football boots meet ethical and environmental standards. Recognising the importance of sustainable practices, Puma has committed to using eco-friendly materials and reducing waste throughout their production process.

Eco-Friendly Materials

Puma’s commitment to sustainability is reflected in their efforts to incorporate recycled materials and responsibly sourced components in their boots. By using synthetic fibres and recycled plastics, Puma not only reduces the environmental impact but also produces lighter boots that enhance performance.

Ethical Labour Practices

In addition to sustainable materials, Puma prioritises ethical labour practices. The brand ensures fair wages and safe working conditions for workers across its supply chain. This dedication to responsible production practices has bolstered Puma’s reputation as a socially conscious brand, further enhancing its appeal to eco-conscious consumers.

Why Now is the Perfect Time to Shop Online for Puma Football Boots

With an increasing number of online sales, now is the ideal time for football enthusiasts to shop online for Puma football boots in the UK. Puma's online presence has expanded, allowing customers to access exclusive offers, seasonal sales, and bundles that make high-performance boots more affordable. Whether you are a seasoned player or a casual enthusiast, buying football boots online offers unparalleled convenience and a wider selection than most physical stores.

Access to the Latest Models and Exclusive Discounts

Online shopping provides customers with early access to the latest Puma models, ensuring they stay ahead in terms of both performance and style. Many online stores offer exclusive discounts that make it easier to purchase top-tier boots at a reduced price. Additionally, Puma often collaborates with well-known footballers and sports influencers, launching limited-edition models that are available exclusively online. This means that dedicated fans and collectors can enjoy unique designs that set them apart on the field.

A Glimpse into the Future: Puma's Vision for Football Boots

As technology continues to evolve, Puma remains committed to leading the charge in the football boot market. By continually investing in research and development, the brand aims to introduce even more advanced designs and features. Puma’s future models are expected to include even lighter materials, enhanced grip technology, and innovative sustainability measures, keeping them at the forefront of the industry.

Smart Boot Technology

Looking ahead, Puma is exploring the integration of smart technology in football boots. This includes the potential for embedded sensors that track player movement, analyse speed and agility, and provide data-driven insights that help players improve their game. By staying ahead of trends and embracing digital innovations, Puma is poised to revolutionise the football boot industry, setting new standards for performance and technology.

Collaborations with Top Athletes

Puma continues to work closely with professional footballers who play a key role in the development process. By collaborating with elite players, Puma gains valuable feedback that informs their design and functionality, ensuring that their boots meet the demands of professional play. These partnerships also contribute to Puma’s brand strength, as fans look to their favourite athletes for equipment recommendations.

Adult's Football Boots Puma Ultra Play FG/AG White Red

Puma's Impact on the Football Boot Market

Puma’s relentless pursuit of innovation, commitment to sustainability, and dedication to both performance and style make them a formidable player in the football boot industry. For those looking to elevate their game, Puma football boots in the UK offer the perfect blend of technology, comfort, and aesthetic appeal. As the brand continues to innovate and expand its offerings, there’s no doubt that Puma will remain at the forefront of the football boot market.

If you’re ready to experience Puma’s cutting-edge designs and unbeatable performance, buy football boots online from Puma’s extensive collection and take your game to new heights.

[dailydragon08]

Random cute Luke x Reader headcanons that live in my head rent-free pt 6 (curly haired reader edition, cuz honestly people can be so rude sometimes and I just need a little validation rn)

- I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again (cuz Padme had some glorious curls), Luke has a thing for natural curls like his father before him.

- The first time you wear your natural curls down, he’s all 😍

- Like legit he cannot stop admiring them and after he learns that you’ve dealt with so much stupid shit from people about them, he will remind you how much he loves them all the time.

- Has done his RESEARCH. When he overheard you telling someone you can’t treat curly hair like straight hair, he went out of his way to learn everything he could about the curly routine. Or he’ll watch your routine and is just so fascinated by it and learns every step to the point that he becomes a pro as well.

- Knows better than to just start touching or run his fingers through you hair. But if you do let him touch, he’s so gentle and careful with your curls and only plays with them in a way that won’t create a giant frizzy mess (he’s also done his research on how best to do this).

- He loves your curls in all their forms: big, bouncy, fresh day 1 curls and even day 5 looser waves that are falling out.

- Gets excited when he sees someone else wearing their natural curls and will be like “oh my partner has curly hair too! :)”

- He’s very protective of your hair because he knows how irritating and rude people can be. When he first learned about some of the comments people made, he was so offended and frustrated on your behalf, and won’t stand for anyone making “bird’s nest/electrical socket” comments, and is especially annoyed when some stranger tries to just turn you into a petting zoo (if this happens, he’ll usually intercept them before they can touch).

- He’s your ultimate hype man, especially when it comes to trying new products or hairstyles. He especially loves messy curly buns that have a few curls escaping (especially when one of them sort of cascades down your neck, he thinks that’s so pretty) and if you want, he’ll even help you research the best products.

- If you two have kids and they have curly hair, he’s so excited that they got your texture and curl pattern and it makes him all 😭 he’s so good at helping them care for it and let them know their hair is beautiful exactly the way it is.

- If you wear it in a pineapple at night or use a bonnet, you were a little self conscious about it the first time you spent the night together. But he assured you he thought you looked adorable. The next morning, he loved watching you take it all out and watching your curls just rain down and now insists on being present every time you do that.

- Loooooves a good high curly haired ponytail.

- If you brush it out before you shower, he’ll offer to help and is so gentle.

- Sometimes when you get out of the shower, you’ll let him help you scrunch it before you dry cuz he thinks it’s fun.

- Learned how to finger roll even better than you and has been known to mumble “weeee” as he lets the curl go and it falls into place.

- If you go a fancy party or have a wedding, he’ll support you if you’d rather straighten your hair or put it up (he thinks you’re beautiful either way), but is genuinely so excited if you leave it curly and will tell you over and over how beautiful you look.

- If you’re sick, injured, or even just tired, he’ll offer to do the whole routine for you and seems to genuinely enjoy it. He’s so sweet and gentle too and will leave little kisses on your forehead or temple as he goes along.

- Is known to come up behind you, hug you, and mutter “Maker, I love your hair” in your ear at random.

~~~

Edit to add I found out Natalie actually DOES have naturally curly hair and it’s making me so happy (still not sure if her movie curls were natural or if it was part extensions/straightened and then curled with an iron, but still!!! Her curls look like mine and that makes me extra, extra happy 😭):

[strikersexhaver]

Alright, I’ll bite. How about both sfw and nsfw headcannons for Striker dating a trans masc AFAB with autism and ADHD, and who often struggles with anxiety, gender dysphoria and sometimes dissociation? (If it helps to know, I often cope through stimming with rubbing soft/smooth textures and with pressure stims such as hugs/squeezes and weighted blankets). Make it as long or as short you need to, anything that you can come up with for Striker dealing with/reacting to these things I’d be interested in reading. (For the sake of my own comfort though, say I have top surgery, refer to the naughty bits as a cock/dick, and only use he/him pronouns for the reader) I hope this isn’t too much to ask!

Also…god damn I am addicted to this man’s voice and I wish he could just vibrate my entire body with his rumbles and snake sounds gkdnfkdndn

To be fair… Me too, me too 😭😭… I love his voice, both voices are amazing to me. And also sure, I can do this! I have autism so I can put some firsthand experience in here as well !! Plus, my brother is trans, I used to take care of him during his transition.

CW for NSFW under the ‘read more’ cut!

Personally, Striker didn’t think or care much about you being trans.

Don’t get him wrong- he supports and loves you but he doesn’t really care about gender. He mostly sees you for you, and your strength-

He does respect the courage of coming out, or being bold with it since-

In Hell there’s more than a just a little amount of assholes lurking around.

He’ll be right by your side if you ever wanted him to fight for you or deal with dipshits.

Back on track though, he would help you in transitioning if you asked- via HRT shots, helping you afford the surgeries required to make you feel comfortable in your own body.

When he sees how you looked like when everything healed, he’ll say you’re sexier than ever.

(If you were an imp, he’d help paint your horns to be the more thick black and white lines like other men imp, if you wanted that of course)

Now as for relating to things like autism and ADHD, you’d have to explain a lot to him. Because I highly doubt Hell has a good educational system about mental health.

He enjoys hearing you talk, about this or fixations little or larger ones like hyper-fixations. He likes your voice, regardless of how it may be.

(Also- if you stopped wanting to take HRT for a while and you had a voice drop, he’d be mad confused)

But for other things such as flooding, he’d try to calm you down in the best way he could without stimulating you further.

As for meltdowns, he doesn’t know how to deal with them. He really does not, so he gives you space. At least on the first time, if it bothered you and you came to him on what to do when it happened again, he’d listen.

He’s not going to be the best, but he’s never gonna lay a hand on you during this state.

Speaking of, if you had certain sensory issues with touch- he’d be mindful to check to see if you’re up for physical contact.

He will mess up, sometimes forgetting entirely, but that’s only after a long day of killing and shooting.

He’d learn how to not just tap your shoulder for your attention, like waving a hand in front of you or tapping the table you were sitting at or anything really.

If you had certain tastes in exact textures or clothes that’d make you more comfortable, he’d try getting a few to make you feel better- same for weighted blankets once he learns of them.

He’s not afraid to steal for you if you needed it-

As for sound related issues, if for example you had an issue with metal scraping metal. He’d take you to a different area. If it was from him, he’d take it somewhere else where you cannot hear.

To be honest, if you brought it up saying you wished you had something to shut things out or turn out the noise.

He’d absolutely- 100% get you noise cancelling headphones, if they were expensive- fuck it, he’ll steal it- he’s not above murder so why would he be above stealing? He lives to see that joyful smile on your face- even if it’s for a brief second before you return to your resting face.

He knows you loved it, it boosts his ego and gives him a serotonin boost.

As for anxiety, if it was social anxiety and you didn’t like speaking up to others- this mf will do it for you, he has no problem, he loves talking.

Now to NSFW, Striker he still loves talking- not as much, but if you’re into it you’ll be hearing a lot of praise.

He’ll give masculine nicknames like ‘Good boy~’ if you were into that, if not he’ll stop.

But knowing firstly knowing his voice, you don’t and probably won’t tell him to stop.

Also- speaking of stopping, previously going to back to boundaries. He’d ask you firmly what you did not want him to do or not, gender-related or not.

He’ll experiment with you, trying to see if you’d prefer being a top or a bottom. Because some people prefer having roles that suit / fit their gender identity.

(A/N at least from my perspective, some people do! Not everyone ofc)

(Striker will always try to be the dom though- regardless-)

(A/N) Hope it was good! Please let me know how it is, I’m always open to critique and sorry the NSFW part was so short I simply couldn’t think of much! I’m not trans (depending on how you see nb people DJSNHA) well- ftm, but if I did or said anything wrong or wrote anything wrong let me know!

Also, requests are open!

[misselko]

GIVE ME A RIDE

Condescending look, devilish smirk, and sinful touches. Hubert von Vestra always has his way on teasing and bring forth your lust for him.

Hubert knows it won't take long before you make your way over, crawling on your hands and knees to worship him. He doesn't speak as he pats his thigh, but his eyes say it all.

"Take a seat and give me a ride."

Warnings: Thigh riding, sex

He’s busy. You know that. But it’s so damn annoying. Hubert has been holed up in his office working on his papers, neglecting you effectively these past weeks.

You know as the Minister of Imperial Household he has his hands busy. Peace has just begun and there are lots of things that need immediate improvements. Agriculture, schools, building restorations, tax policies. It’s as if all of the Adrestian nobles team up together to keep your husband away from you and you can't stand it any longer. Something has to be done! Hopefully he wouldn't mind putting away his work to spend this night together with his wife.

"Hubert, you've been working on these papers for hours. It’s past midnight already. Let’s take a break," you whine.

He just waves you off and you pout slightly. You think he hasn't noticed how desperate you've been getting for him over the last hours. Feeling a burst of courage hit you, you decide to go over to his desk and try to distract him, instead of sitting alone on your shared bed.

Walking over him, you earn Hubert’s sigh as you straddle his leg, facing away from him. He raises an eyebrow at you and just continues to do his damned paperwork, choosing to ignore how desperate you are for him.

He doesn't speak as he pats his thigh, but his eyes say it all.

"Take a seat and give me a ride."

You pout from his taunt and pull the fabric of your short nightdress that got caught in between. A shiver runs throughout your body at the sensation. Your clit is stiff and sensitive from a day of neglecting it in hopes he’d be the one to touch it.

The feel of the fabric pulling on your clit gives you momentarily relief from the tension of denial. As Hubert works, you slightly roll your hips against his thigh, getting the friction you so desperately need. You couldn't help but let out a quiet whimper when the harder, rougher texture of his pants meets your eager pussy.

“What is the matter? You cannot do anything without my help, can you?” Hubert coos with a bittersweet tone into your ear. 

Hubert suddenly turns you around to face him, positioning your core firmly over his thigh. A hiss of annoyance passes your teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to move. Immediate pleasure tingles up your spine. It feels better than you thought. The texture of his pants against your bare pussy was just right. It tingles and tugs along your clit; it feels so damn good.

Perched on his lap, you twist your body around to his face, not quite straddling him yet. His eyes shift down to your breathless form. You wonder if he can feel the heat from your pussy as you settle on top of him.

“How miserable. You are as greedy as ever.” Hubert taunts you in a softer but critical tone that drives you mad. You are about to protest when Hubert pulls you into a deep kiss, making you moan into his mouth.

A low throaty sound emits from Hubert’s lips when his left hand rubs and squeezes your thigh, while the other massages your breast. His quickened breathing is heavy against your ear. 

“That bad, hmm?” Hubert asks, with unrelenting smugness. “I have no idea you are so wet for me already.” His hands are rough, squeezing you tightly as he rocks your hips over his muscular thigh.

You let out a symphony of whines, letting Hubert know just how impatient you are right now. But, your pleas fall on empty ears as he stops abruptly and starts scribbling away on another book then puts it above a stack of papers. You grumble and nuzzle your head into his neck, forcing yourself to be patient.

“I gave you what you wanted and yet, here you are, still needing me to do it for you.”

You turn a little pink in the cheeks, your skin burning from Hubert's glare. You haven't even opened your mouth and his face is communicating that he knows exactly what you're thinking; he could read you like an open book.

“What is it, love?”

Goosebumps rise on your skin and you gasp. “You are being mean, Hubert.”

Your fingers dig into his shirt. A shiver runs down your spine. You are working him up. But he’s too damn proud to give you what you want. A shared quality you both have. But at this point you have been denied him for too long. Harsh truth of his words hurt because they’re true.

Letting go of your thoughts, you start to roll your hips faster and harder onto his strong thigh. You keep going, needing more to fall off the edge. The feeling of his thigh rubbing you sends your bundle of nerves into overdrive, making your thighs quivering in pleasure.

You quickly realize though how much Hubert shifts while he is working. Whether it be a small adjustment or a big one, you notice. It is almost insufferable. Every shift of his hips bump up against your throbbing core. 

Hubert isn’t really working at this point, he is too absorbed in your moans and watching you desperately try to give yourself pleasure. He wants to keep up the unbothered act he has going on but he also wants to ruin you. He decides for a middle ground, bouncing his leg and trails his hand all over your body, sucking and biting, leaving love bruises into your shoulder and breasts.

The pleasure is starting to become too much. Your hips are stuttering, the friction delicious and dangerous. Your whines became breathy and desperate. You are so close, and your hand stills around him and the fingers of your other hand pressed into his skin, nails digging in and leaving red marks.

“A remarkable performance. Now keep going, dear.” Hubert pauses and gives you an inch of his attention, breathing into your ear before whispering. “Cum as much as you want. You are so desperate for me that you are getting off on my thigh. How pathetic.” he practically spits out the last word and chuckles.

Involuntary moans escape from your mouth but you try to stop it by catching the rest of the sound with your teeth, biting down on your lip. You force yourself to stop, even though you want to do the complete opposite. You try to get off from Hubert but he holds your hips down.

“No. Keep going and indulge me. I want to watch you become a pretty little whining mess just from my thigh.” You are trying your best to stay still despite it but dear Goddess, it is hard. You want to defend yourself but between his words and his motions you had nothing.

“H-Hubert, I can't,” you cry out as the intensity of the orgasm is too much to handle all at once. Your eyes locked into his, glowing with heat.

“You can do this, my dearest, ride it out," he purrs, the satisfaction dripping out of his lips. You whine. Slowly you move a hand up into Hubert’s hair and tangle your fingers in it close to his roots. You ride his leg like it was his cock, hard and with no restraints. His pants get wet and sloppy; the friction is barely impacted.

Despite his words, Hubert helps you to keep up your pace as he guides you affectionately. Hubert brings one hand up and tugs on your hair softly, pulling your face from his neck. He looks at your face with a devilish smirk.

You are a moaning mess and your mouth hangs open in a small ‘o’, cheeks flushed, eyes blown out with lust. Hubert can't help himself as he kisses you passionately, all teeth and tongue. He swallows your whimpers as you get closer and closer to your finish. Hubert forces your hips to move faster as he watches you unravel. 

Your eyes flutter into the back of your head as you let out a high-pitched moan of his name and you ride out your high on him, throwing your head backwards and forwards uncontrollably as your body shudders atop his frame. 

Your orgasm spreads through you slowly and sweetly. Hubert helps you through it, slowing your hips down gently, letting you (literally) ride it out. Collapsing over him, you are a panting and sweaty mess with your head resting on his shoulder. It’s comforting to have Hubert patting your head to make sure you are fine.

“I love you Hubert,” you smile softly at him.

“I love you more, (Y/N)” Hubert professes softly as he lifts you up to carry you over to the bed and kisses your forehead. He chuckles at your exhausted form, pressing little kisses to the crown of your hair and staring into you. His eyes are filled with lust and pure devotion.

“Ready for the main course?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out shakily.

Hubert growls when you call him that. It seems his thighs won't be the only thing you're riding before the night ends.

[lunarbuck]

Reset - Three

Семнадцать

Pairing: The Winter Soldier x f!Reader

WC: 5.3k

He is carved from darkness. Hell's creation, a thing of nightmares.

Warnings/Tags: descriptions of violence, description of injury, fear, swearing

series masterlist | my masterlist | ao3 | @hydravictrix | fic playlist

AN: thank you @cwbucky for beta reading!!! Please let me know what you think <3

chapter 2 / chapter 4

Soldat

The ride back to the compound is quick despite my distracted thoughts. I am captivated by this new information about моя куколка’s family, friends, and life. It is more than I could have wished for. It is more than she would have granted had I asked.

When I arrive back at the compound, there is a pull in my gut; I need to see her. It has been too long. I wonder what Rollins has done with her during the hours I was away.

Before I see her, I need to check in with Pierce. He is probably back in his office after doing his rounds and checking in on his subordinates. 

I find him at his desk, typing something into his computer. Internet access has been restricted, people outside of Hydra’s compounds and residences can’t use it. This was done early on to prevent communication, but the resistance often finds ways around it.

Pierce glances up from his work and gives me a once-over when I enter the office. I’m still wearing my tactical gear and my weapons. He doesn’t like seeing me armed. He knows I am dangerous, that I could kill him if I wanted.

I won’t. Not yet. 

“Mission report,” he says, returning his eyes to the screen in front of him. 

“Intel gathered on the new SHIELD resistance leader Lucas Glover.” I rattle off what I’ve learned and explain what I took photos of. I leave out my visit to the SHIELD safehouse. I don’t mention what I have learned about the prisoner, even though the information would probably be helpful to Pierce. It is for my ears and eyes only.

“Good work, Soldier. Dismissed.” He waves his hand in the way I hate, flapping at me like I am a dog. I turn on my heel and head down the hall. I know I should remove my weapons, but I don’t want to delay seeing her any more than I already have. 

The hallways were cleaned recently, and my boots squeak against the waxed tile. I am surely scuffing it, marring its glossy texture. I turn corners, mindlessly making my way to her cell. I know I should question the way she occupies my thoughts. It is dangerous, she is dangerous, but I cannot stop myself.

I hear a loud thud coming from the direction of her holding cell, and the hair on the back of my neck raises. What is going on? I hear her scream, and my blood runs cold. I calmly walk down the hall toward the sound of fists beating flesh, trying not to speed up my steps.

When I round the corner, I see моя куколка on the ground, spitting blood. Rumlow grabs her by her hair and hauls her up so Rollins can strike her again.

“Fucking bitch,” Rollins grunts, shaking out his hand before crouching down to look her in her eyes. “If you’d just listen for once, we wouldn’t have to do this. All you had to do was be good.”

They can’t touch her like that; they weren’t supposed to fucking touch her. I can’t stand to watch it anymore, and without thinking, I close the distance between them and me.

I grab Rollins by his collar and throw him back against the wall. He lands with a thud but recovers quickly.

“Calm down, big guy,” Rumlow says, still holding onto моя куколка. His knuckles are split and bloody, staining her hair. “Nothin’ to see here.” I swing my left arm into place and roll my shoulders back.

“You defied Pierce,” I say, turning around to stare down Rollins. “You touched her.”

Куколка 

Rumlow’s grip on your arm is firm; it feels like he’s about to break your bone. You bring your other hand up and claw at his fingers, but it does nothing. He’s too distracted by the Soldier.

“I didn’t do shit,” Rumlow says, rolling his eyes. Rollins tries to come at the Soldier, but he is armed. His metal fingers deftly grab a knife from a holster on his leg, spinning it through his fingers before lodging it in Rollins’ leg. He howls in pain, and the Soldier rips the blade from Rollins, wiping it on the fabric of the injured man’s pants.

“You touched her,” the Soldier says. It sounds almost as if he cares, but maybe that’s because you’re concussed. Rumlow gives up his hold on you and tosses you to the ground. You land hard, and you’re too disoriented to save yourself.

The Soldier turns on Rumlow and quickly takes him to the ground, pinning him against the tile. It is clear that when the Soldier puts his mind to something, no one can stop him. Rumlow puts up a good fight but eventually gives in and relents.

“Get the fuck off me,” he grunts as the Soldier presses the man’s face into the ground.

“Never touch her again,” the Soldier says, voice cold. It makes you shiver.

“Fine, whatever, fuck off.” The Soldier allows Rumlow to stand then turns to you. Something swims in his eyes, some far-off emotion that you can’t name. He kneels down next to you and runs his fingers along your hairline, looking for the source of your bleeding. He holds the weight of your head in his hands, and you don’t fight it. 

Your body aches all over. There isn’t one place that wasn’t subject to Rollins and Rumlow’s beatings. The Soldier’s hands hook around your back and under your knees, lifting you up. He presses you against his chest, and you let your head fall against him. For the first time since your capture, you’re not worried about what will happen next. All you can think of right now is the warmth of the Soldier’s body against yours and the sound of his heart beating in your ears.

The Soldier brings you back to your cell and lays you down gently on the cot. Your vision blurs as he turns you on your side, curling your limbs up into your chest. He steps away, and your gut twists.

When he returns, you hear the rustling of his tactical gear as it falls to the floor. Beneath it, he wears black cargo pants and a black t-shirt. You try to focus on him, on his eyes, but you can’t. Unconsciousness creeps into the corners of your vision, and you let your eyes fall shut.

“No, no, you can’t do that right now ангел (angel),” the Soldier says, running his thumbs over your cheeks. The chill of metal fingers sends shivers down your spine, and you fight against the urge to keep your eyes closed. For a brief moment, you focus on his eyes. They’re striking, a shade of blue you swear doesn’t exist anywhere else.

He nods and moves away, dragging over a bowl of water. He dips a rag into it and begins to wipe the blood off of your face. You’re not sure where he found all of this. The water is warm, and you let out a gasp at the feeling. 

The Soldier smirks; it is almost a smile. 

Once he has cleaned the wounds on your face, he shifts and begins to undress you. He removes your shirt and pants but leaves your underwear, surprising you. He wets the cloth in the now murky water and cleans your arms. He starts at your shoulder and, with careful fingers, wipes at your skin. 

He is focused on the spot he’s cleaning, never letting his attention stray. His gaze burns, but you don’t move. The silence in the cell is deafening, and even though your mind is hazy, you know you have to try now. You won’t get another chance like this.

“What does it mean?” You croak quietly. The Soldier continues cleaning your hands, your fingers.

“What does what mean?” He replies quietly. The Soldier’s voice always surprises you. There there is something almost sweet in the gravelly sound.

“Ahn-gel,” you say, butchering the pronunciation of the word. He smirks and huffs out a breath; it is almost a laugh.

“Ангел,” he corrects, watching your face. He does not explain further as he shifts you to clean the other side of your body. “What happened?” He asks, cleaning beneath your fingernails.

You think back to this morning when Rollins came to your cell, how he’d cooed in one breath and tore you down in another. 

“Rollins came this morning, said you had the day off. He took me to that room with the chair, and I didn’t want to go, so I tried to get away. He didn’t like that, so he beat me. Rumlow showed up, and they put me in the chair. It hurt so much today.” The Soldier’s fingers pause on your abdomen.

“Why were they beating you when I found you?” There is a new gruffness in his voice, an urgency that hadn’t been there before. Bile rises in your throat as you recall the events of just a few moments ago.

“They wanted me to shower, they were tearing at my clothes, trying to–” your voice catches in your throat, and the Soldier shakes his head. He holds your face in his hands, so you have no choice but to stare into his eyes.

“They will never touch you again, ангел. Never.” Your eyes water; how did it get to this point. How have you strayed so far? His eyes scan your face. You must have a far-off look in your eye, considering the concern written in his gaze.

“Bucky,” you whisper, resting your hands on his wrists. The Soldier stiffens but allows you to run your fingers along his arms, up to his shoulders and neck, until you reach his face. Your fingers graze over his skin, his scars. He is carved from darkness. Hell’s creation, a thing of nightmares. At your touch, something in his eyes cracks. His lips part as your hands explore further up. You trace over his cheekbones, his nose, his brow bone.

“No,” he replies, matching your quiet volume. “Soldat.” His hands shift from your face down to your neck and shoulders until he’s holding you around your ribcage. His strength, his power pulses through his fingers, the hands that hold you and clean up could kill you in an instant.

“James.” His name comes to you as easily as breathing, as easy as living. The Soldier’s grip tightens on you, fingers digging into your ribs. He breathes deeply through his nose and shuts his eyes tightly. 

“Don’t.” You rub your thumbs along his cheekbones, letting your fingers find the length of his brown hair. Before, you said that maybe in another life, he could have been beautiful. You were wrong. He is beautiful in this life; he is striking.

When the Soldier opens his eyes, there is something new in them. They are clear like a storm has passed. He draws his hands back up your torso to your face, cradling you in a way you hadn’t thought possible from the man. 

Something has shifted between the two of you. You’re not sure when it happened, when your hatred for this man changed, but you know it is dangerous. To be truthful, you’re not sure you ever truly hated him. What kind of person does that make you? How could you not hate the man that killed the person you loved? 

You’d thought the Soldier was a monster; maybe there is more to him than you realized.

“Sleep,” he says, tilting your head to rest on your threadbare pillow. “I will fix this.” The Soldier pulls a blanket over your body and helps you curl yourself in it. His hands trace the curve of your jaw before he stands to exit the cell. The lights turn off when he opens the door. 

“Goodnight, James,” you say quietly into the darkness.

“Goodnight, ангел.”

You dream of Steve.

“You look like such a baby in this one,” you said through loud laughter, pointing to a picture of young Steve Rogers.  

“I had a baby face, don’t be mean,” Steve chided, plucking the photo from your fingers. You pouted, and he kissed your cheek. “I’m not gonna let you look at these if you’re just gonna make fun of me. What happened to you being my sweet girl?” He asked with a goofy smile. You rolled your eyes and leaned into his side. He knew you were just kidding, but you still felt a little bad. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight to make up for it,” you offered, glancing up at your handsome companion. Steve wiggled his eyebrows in approval, and you burst out into another fit of laughter. 

It was so easy with Steve, so effortless. 

He picked you up and placed you in his lap, your legs wrapped around his torso. You looked up into his bright blue eyes and his big dumb grin. 

“You think I’m gonna forgive you that easy?” He asked with mock confusion.  

“Uh yeah, I do. In fact, I know you’re gonna. I can read you like a book Cap,” you replied, tapping him on the nose. Steve plastered on an exaggerated frown, but you were immune to the puppy dog eyes. Eventually, he relented and let you go shopping for groceries. He helped you carry them and everything like the gentleman he was. 

That night after you’d both eaten, Steve dimmed the lights and put on an old record of his. Soft jazz music played through the grainy speaker as you and Steve swayed to the beat. Your head rested against his chest, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to the top of your head.  

Steve hummed along to the song; the sound rumbled in his chest and tickled your ears. Some days, you couldn’t believe he was real. That he was with you. Some days, it was too good to be true. But then he’d pick you up, swing you around, and all those doubts flew away. 

“I love you, sweet girl,” he’d whisper against your hair. “I love you so much.”

You wake to pain coursing through your body. You’ll be feeling the lingering effects of yesterday’s beating for a while. Slowly, you push yourself up and lean against the concrete wall behind your bed. The cool material shocks your skin, but you don’t move away.

There is no evidence from the Soldier’s visit. He must have gathered his gear, the bowl, and your bloody clothes when he left. You notice a pile of folded clothes beside your cot, a t-shirt, and pants just like always. You must’ve been too out of it to notice.

You dress with shaky fingers, fumbling with the zipper on the pants, but eventually, you’re clothed. There is no food by your door, but you’re not sure you’d be able to stomach anything right now. 

Footsteps thud outside, and your heartbeat speeds up. The weight of the steps is familiar; it is the Soldier. He opens your cell door and steps inside, letting it shut behind him. In one hand, he holds a plum, and in the other, a small knife. He stares down at you for a moment before crouching beside the cot.

“It is the afternoon. I was instructed to remove your first meal of the day, but you need to eat.” Now that the Soldier is closer to you, you can see faint purple bruising below one of his eyes, remnants of a split lip, and blood along his hairline.

Without thinking, you reach up and brush the seam of his lips, feeling for the injury. You know that with the serum, his wounds heal quickly; these are recent. He must have received them this morning.

“What did they do to you?” You whisper, forgetting yourself for a moment. The Soldier does not move. He doesn’t remove your hand from his face. 

“Do not worry about me, моя куколка,” he says, shaking his head. “You must eat.” You slowly drop your hand and take the plum from his awaiting palm. The Soldier presses the small knife into your hand next, and you watch as the blade glints in the harsh cell light. 

You cut the plum into a few pieces, and the Soldier watches each movement. He surely is breaking many rules by bringing you food and a weapon; what does this mean?

“Was that because of me?” You ask, watching the bruises fade from his skin. You’d watched Steve heal many times, but it never ceased to amaze you. The Soldier sits beside you on the cot, and it sinks with his added weight. You place a piece of the plum against your tongue, letting the sweet fruit fill your senses. It’s almost too much, but it tastes incredible.

“No,” the Soldier replies. When you’ve fully cut up the plum, you hand the knife back to the Soldier, holding the blade in your fingers to offer him the handle. A voice deep in your mind, so deep you can barely hear it, screams at you for giving it back. You could’ve used it, hidden it, and tried to escape. Another part of your mind, this one much louder, knows that you never could’ve escaped using such a small blade. There are too many people in this compound. You never could’ve taken them all.

“Then why?” The Soldier wipes the plum juices off the blade before tucking it away into a pocket. You eat another piece of fruit.

“It is not important.” You nod and continue eating until the plum is long gone. You want more, craving the sugary sweetness of the fruit. When the Soldier sees you’re done, he stands and helps you up. “We need to go.”

For a moment, you think he won’t cuff you, but that thought is quickly extinguished when he pulls out the manacles. Your heart aches, but you’re not sure why. Did you really think that he would forget that you are his prisoner? That you are a member of the resistance? Your naïvete has seemingly returned with a vengeance. It is dangerous.

Once the Soldier has secured your wrists, he leads you out of the cell and down a familiar hallway. You know where he is taking you. The electrocution chair haunts your waking moments as well as your nightmares. 

When you enter the electrocution room, Pierce, Rumlow, and Rollins all stand around the chair. Rumlow and Rollins look pissed, but Pierce seems pleased. The Soldier stiffens at your side and guides you to the chair. He shoves you into the seat, and in an instant, Rollins is beside you with the rubber mouthpiece.

Pierce stands in front of you and takes the mouthpiece from Rollins, holding it between two fingers. “You’re strong,” he says, regarding you with suspicious eyes. “But you are not strong enough to fight this forever.” Rollins and Rumlow exchange a look that does not bode well for you.

“I’ll never stop,” you whisper, but you know you’re lying to yourself. You’ve already given up so much; you’ve already let the Soldier in. You’ve lost.

“If you want to live, you’ll reconsider.” Pierce doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond; he shoves the mouthpiece between your teeth and grips your jaw so you can’t spit it back out on him. He nods to his men before stepping away. The chair whirrs to life, and the torture begins.

You’re not sure how long it lasts before Pierce tells Rumlow to stop. Your eyes fall upon the Soldier, searching for what though, you’re not sure. You want comfort, and despite what he has shown you recently, you know that the Soldier cannot bring you that. Instead, he shifts his eyes to Pierce and nods.

The Soldier opens his mouth, and as he speaks, your head begins to throb. Your vision swims, and you find yourself unable to focus on anything other than Pierce. He motions to the Soldier then steps toward you. He grabs your chin, turning your head to look at him. “Lucas Glover,” he says with a smirk. Pierce gently removes the mouthpiece from between your teeth, and your jaw hangs open. You’re panting, unable to get enough air.

“Lucas Glover,” you repeat, though your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. The name is familiar, and a hazy face flashes in your mind. He knew Steve, this much you’re sure of, though why would Pierce care?

“Why’s she taking so long?” Rumlow asks loudly from behind Pierce, though you don’t shift your eyes to him. You can’t seem to get them to move away from Pierce’s intense gaze.

“She is working on it,” Pierce replies calmly. He crouches down in front of you, so he has to look up to keep eye contact. “Lucas Glover, you know him, right?”

As if not controlled by your own brain, your head nods. 

“Good. How do you know him?” You furrow your brow, trying to place Lucas in your memories. They float through your mind, showing you glimpses of a life that seems so far away that it couldn’t possibly have been yours.

“SHIELD,” you say quietly. Pierce smiles; it is not a kind thing. He nods, encouraging you to continue. “He was an intern. Very promising.” Though you know the man in front of you has not always treated you well, you’re happy he’s asking so nicely. He could hurt you easily if he wanted to.

“Do you think Mr. Glover knows anything about the remaining safe houses?” Safe houses. Something about that word makes you feel nervous. You sense a tugging in your gut, a need to tell him what you know.

“Yes.” You need to say more; the look Pierce gives you confirms this suspicion. Something about this feels wrong. You want to tell him the truth. It feels good when you do. So why is there a piece of you that wants to keep the information to yourself? Your head spins as you try to keep your mouth closed. You know you need to say something. You feel like you’ll explode if you don’t. Pain spreads through your chest, down your arms and legs. It licks at your fingers and up your neck.

“What do you know of the remaining safe houses? You’ve told me there are some in the midwest. Do you know anything more specific?” You bite your tongue, but it is a losing battle, and you’re not strong enough to fight anymore.

“Yes.” Pierce’s eyes scream more. “Chicago,” you whisper as relief rushes over your body, cool water to ease your pain. 

“Chicago,” Pierce repeats before standing again. Rollins approaches, tilting your chin and placing his thumb against your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. Your jaw easily falls open, and he positions the mouthpiece back against your teeth. Your heart races; hadn’t you done well? You’d answered his questions. Why punish you more. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes, wetting your cheeks.

“Fuck,” Rollins groans, removing his thumb from your lip to wipe at your tears. He brings his finger to his mouth and tastes it. “Even sweeter than last time.”

The torture goes on. Your only relief comes with Pierce’s questions, though by the time the Soldier removes you from the chair, you are on the brink of unconsciousness. Tonight he does not clean you up. He does not make you promises of safety and security. He leaves you in the dark cell, and you cry for a man from lifetimes ago, one you will never see again.

You wake to his footsteps thundering down the hallway. The Soldier pushes your cell door open and steps inside. You shift on your cot to look at him, but your body aches with every movement. 

“You need to train,” he says, regarding you from the door. He does not make a move to help you up. What happened to the man that brought you the plum? That saved you from your beating?

You groan, pushing yourself up until you’re standing. For a moment, you stare down at your bare feet against the cold concrete floor. Maybe, if you closed your eyes, you could pretend that you were in the bathroom of your apartment. No matter the season or temperature outside, the tile was always unrelentingly cold. It was awful in the mornings when you’d just pulled yourself away from Steve’s warm embrace, but it was a comfort on days when you ran a fever and had to sit by the toilet.

Steve always took care of you when you were sick. He’d make you soup, get you ice cream, and wrap you up until you felt better. Gotta take care of my girl, he’d always say. If you don’t feel good, I don’t feel good. 

You wiggle your toes, lifting them from the cool flooring, and rock back onto your heels. After a long day of training, Steve would draw you a bath. He’d add lavender oil to the water and light you candles. He would massage your body with gentle fingers.

Steve’s fingers worked down your back, finding a new knot from training with Natasha. He leaned down and kissed your shoulder as he worked out the knot.  

“Did she do that weird spin move on you?” He asked, moving his lips against your skin. You were lying on your stomach on the bed, and Steve straddled your hips, sitting on top of you.  

You groaned as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “Yeah, but I kinda asked her to.” Steve chuckled as he sat back up. Once he worked out the knot, he let his fingers trail up and down your back, sending shivers up your spine. 

“You never learn, pretty girl,” he whispered. “But that’s why I love you.” He scratched your back lightly before moving up into your scalp. He always knew how to make you feel better.  

Metal fingers wrap around your wrist, and you’re catapulted back into your current reality. You stare up at the Soldier, his bright blue eyes glaring at you. “I will not repeat myself.” You drop your eyes and nod. He allows you a moment to dress properly for training before handcuffing you and leading you out of the cell.

“I didn’t eat,” you say quietly. The Soldier does not respond. “You said I need to eat.” He glares back at you and continues tugging you through the hallways. When you arrive at the training room, you feel your stomach cramping. You won’t have the strength to train if you don’t have anything to eat. Even something small would help.

The Soldier walks you to the center of the room, where he uncuffs you and gives you a once-over. His eyes rake over your figure until they reach your face. He reaches into a pocket in his pants and pulls out a small cloth bag, which he hands to you.

“Eat while I explain.” You tug the bag open and find a plum, this one slightly larger than yesterday’s. “Yesterday, you gave up the general location of a safe house.” Your heart sinks. You have very little memory of yesterday’s interrogation, and you don’t remember giving up that information.

You don’t respond. You take a bite of the plum.

“That location was enough for Pierce to put together an idea of where exactly the safe house is.” The plum is too sweet for what the Soldier is saying. 

“What does that mean for them?” You ask, running your tongue over your teeth.

“They will die. And Pierce will tell you all of this and more, but he will make it much more painful for you.” So he’s warning you, making the blow hurt less. Why?

“Why ruin Pierce’s fun?” You ask sarcastically. The Soldier is silent, and you watch his face contort. He’s thinking, mulling it all over. In the private of your mind, you have wondered why he shows you any kindness, why he bothers, but you’ve never asked aloud. 

“He is cruel.” The Soldier makes a face.

“And you haven’t been cruel?” You question, raising an eyebrow. You know you shouldn’t provoke him. He could kill you easily. The Soldier grips your wrist tightly with his metal hand, causing you to drop your plum. As if in slow motion, the Soldier catches it in his other hand. He brings it up close to his face, investigating the fruit.

“I never said that I have not been cruel,” he says slowly, shifting his attention back to you. “But the only one who can be cruel to you, моя куколка, is me.” The Soldier presses the plum against your lips. Your mouth opens just enough for him to position the fruit between your teeth. Sweetness coats your lips, your tongue. The Soldier watches you bite into the flesh of the plum, and heat sweeps through your body, settling in your belly.

He lowers his hands to his sides, releasing you from his grip. You both breathe deeply, and something shifts in the atmosphere. You drown in the Soldier’s blue eyes; they capture you and refuse to let you go. 

“James,” you whisper, and it is like he is struck by lightning. The Soldier jerks and shakes his head as if waking up from a trance. He stalks over to the door and types something into the screen that doubles as a keypad. 

A moment later, Pierce arrives at the training room.

“Good morning,” he says, regarding you with eager eyes. Pierce turns to the Soldier, and they exchange words in Russian. You wish you could understand what they say. The Soldier steps out of the training room, leaving you alone with Pierce. 

“Good morning,” you reply, keeping your eyes down. 

“You did well yesterday.” Your stomach turns; you don’t want to do well in Pierce’s eyes. “You are taking well to the programming. Have you noticed things getting easier?” 

Your gut tugs with an urge to tell the truth despite the fact you haven’t been shocked into submission. Even though nothing feels easy, you’ve gotten used to the pain. It’s almost normal now. Your fingers curl into fists, blunted nails digging into calloused skin. “No,” you say through gritted teeth.

Pierce frowns, but it disappears quickly. “When you worked for SHIELD, you had assessments, yes?” You nod, and at that moment, Rumlow, Rollins, and the Soldier drag someone into the training room. There is a fabric bag over the person’s head, but judging by the build and size of the person, it’s a man.

They pull him into the center of the room, dumping him at Pierce’s feet. The man doesn’t move, but he breathes heavily.

“What’s going on?” You ask, watching the bag move with each of the man’s breaths.

“Your information led me to quite the discovery; you helped more than you could ever have known.” You tear your eyes away from the man on the ground and find yourself seeking comfort in the Soldier. Blue eyes, frosty and nearly inhuman, stare back. They provide you none of the comfort you need.

“Who is that?” Your voice is shaky as you look back down at the man. His skin is covered in dirt and blood; his trip here must have been incredibly painful. His pants are torn in places, revealing a few wounds he must have received in a fight. He didn’t come here willingly, and he must not have known they were coming.

“If the Soldier has done his job, this should be easy,” Pierce says, looking at the Soldier. “He seems to think you have potential. I hope he is right.” Rumlow crouches down and unties the bag, pulling it off the man’s head.

Lucas Glover’s beaten and broken face makes your knees weak. You haven’t seen someone from SHIELD in so long. To have it be Lucas, Steve’s favorite intern, makes it that much worse.

“Lucas,” you whisper, fighting the urge to throw yourself into the ground to see if he is okay. You know he isn’t.

“He is no longer of much use to us,” Pierce says, nudging one of Lucas’s legs with the toe of his shoe. “Prove yourself.”

Translations:

ангел = angel

куколка (f) = little doll

принцесса (f) = princess

please let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist must be 18+

General tags - please lmk if you do not want to be tagged for this series

@peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @/goldylions @late-to-the-party-81

Series tags - 18+ only!! must have age in bio - message me to be added &lt;3

@cwbucky @emmabarnes @summerofsnowflakes @winter-soldier-101 @littlered6307 @/peaches1958 @callingsergeantbarnes @fandoms-writings @prettywhenicry4 @zombiexbody @trinitytheinfinityromanoff @cjand10 @buckybarnesandmarvel @red42985 @thats-a-gaybie @hallecarey1 @snugglingbucky @goldylions @wickidlady @saraissleepy @buckybarnesthots @shirukitsune @elizacusi-blog

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics and @/maysdigitalarts

[sonoftartessos]

Marble Tomb || Nate and León

@predatorymaniac

The sun blazed down upon the group gathered in the courtyard. As much as León loved soaking in the sun, he loathed the clothes he wore clinging to his back and the heat blazing up from the stone underfoot.

‘I cannot decide.’ The Dominus had one arm folded over his chest, the other hand toying with his bottom lip. ‘What do you think?’ He glanced at the young man beside him. ‘Is this one too pretentious?’ 

Both life-size sculptures were marble and gold, expertly crafted and painted with so much care that they almost looked alive. The Senator’s untimely death had been a point of gossip amongst the other nobility. Half of Rome refused to touch his cursed belongings - including his family. The other half were vultures, picking at the carcass of a recently dead friend. 

León squinted at his Dominus, at the merchant and then at the sculptures. They were masterpieces. One depicted a nymph mid-transformation into a laurel tree, her face contorted in agony. León had to turn away from her, feeling those eyes bore into him accusatorially. 

‘What about this one?’ León gestured to the other sculpture. Nearly seven feet tall with a wingspan that made it colossal.

‘Really?’ The Dominus pushed past León to inspect the sculpture closely. ‘It has something to it, certainly.’ He ran his thumb along the jaw as if he was the sculptor, reshaping it. ‘But I do prefer the natural forms of the other.’ 

The merchant chuckled but remained silent. He clearly hoped that Dominus’ indecision would lead to him buying both. 

‘I don’t like the nymph,’ León said. 

‘It’s a good thing that your Dominus is the one buying it, then, isn’t it?’ The merchant snapped. 

The Dominus waved his hand dismissively at the merchant, still inspecting the winged sculpture. ‘Come. Convince me to buy this one instead of the one I would prefer.’ He extended a hand for León to take. 

León couldn’t refuse, obeying his Dominus as he stepped toward the sculpture. He practically climbed it to show the Dominus. ‘Well.’ León placed Dominus’ hand on the sculpture’s wings. ‘You can only see it from a certain angle but feel that?’ The Dominus caressed the sculpture’s wings, trailing his fingers over its shoulder blades and hair. 

‘It is textured!’ The Dominus removed his hand from the winged man and reached for the nymph. ‘This one is, too.’ He sounded disappointed. ‘I still see no reason to take this colossus.’ It was an exaggeration that pricked at León. 

‘He feels different. He feels better crafted.’ León remained half-standing on the sculpture, a hand pressed on its chest where the heart would have been if it was organic. ‘Lifelike.’ 

‘This young lady could easily live in my place in the city. She can bring a bit of nature to the place. That would live where?’ 

‘There is still space in the countryside. You haven’t replaced the Neptune statue.’ 

‘You would have me replace a sculpture of a god with this thing?’ 

León finally dismounted the sculpture. ‘You told me to convince you. I have tried.’ He shrugged and stepped back, allowing Dominus to speak privately with the merchant. 

They left without either that day. And a few days later, the nymph was delivered to the city domus. León had been the one responsible for unpacking it. He knew the Dominus was testing him, so there was not a single leaf out of place, as much as he wanted to blindfold the statue so she would stop staring at him. 

They remained in the city for a few more weeks while the dominus sorted the last of his business. And then they were off, back to the country. It took a few days for everything to return to Dominus’ standards. León didn’t think he relaxed once the entire time. 

Sweat rolled from León’s face as he hefted grain sacks across the villa. The city had spoiled him. But now he had Dominus’ entire family to cater for. That meant no lazy afternoons learning Latin and Greek with the Dominus. And no other less pleasant duties. 

He was daydreaming about sneaking off to the river when he collided with something hard. He lay winded across a marble knee, the bags of grain torn and spilling between golden sandals. 

León pushed himself up, still struggling to catch his breath. He stood face to face with the giant sculpture from the weeks before. He had almost forgotten about it. ‘Hello?’ he said in his native tongue, amusement curling at his lips. ‘You did that. If I get lashed, it is your fault.’ He chuckled, rubbing his stomach as he left to get something to clear up the grain. 

Had his Dominus really bought the sculpture for him? 

[frenchbreads-writing]

Token of Appreciation|{Zagreus}

This originally was only going to be 800 words but I have no self control and my sleep schedule is ruined so this happened. I hope you guys enjoy this, I know its different from my usual bnha stuff so I just hope y’all don’t mind.

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Zagreus x Male Reader

Words: 1.3k (1,308)

Warning(s): mentions of death

Requests: Open

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rough texture of stone and the sting of Asphodel's heated air on Zagreus's face was the last thing he felt as the hydra landed the final blow.

The world around him went dark, as it usually did and the darkness embraced him.

He had no more death defiance’s remaining, so he waited for the all too familiar splash of the blood-red waters of the River Styx to envelop him.

To have him wake up inside of his home, the House of Hades, making him face his father again after yet another failed attempt at escaping.

But the unnaturally cold waters never touched him.

Instead, a warmth embraced him. One that warmed his soul and soothed his aching heart.

It was a stark contrast to the blistering heat of Asphodel that nipped at Zagreus like the teeth of the three-headed Cerberus as he made his way across the bubbling rivers of magma.

He felt at peace as he lay suspended in the area between death and resurrection.

This wasn’t the first time he felt this warmth.

His wounds forgotten, he embraced the familiar gentle tides of peace and tranquillity that washed over him.

A hand reached out of the darkness and cupped his cheek.

“Zagreus.” A familiar deep gentle voice called out to him. “My love, open your eyes.”

Doing as he was told, Zagreus was met with the sight of you.

Your silk toga draped elegantly over your frame with such beauty that it would put Aphrodite to shame, the jewelry that Zagreus himself gifted you, could not shine nearly as bright as your eyes, the eyes that held knowledge he could not even hope to fathom. They pierced his bi-colored orbs and filled him with awe.

He would never get used to your heavenly aspect.

“Hello, handsome.” Zagreus muttered.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed pulling away from him.

“Even when you’ve just died you’re still as charming as always.”

Zagreus laughed and reached up, took your hand from his face, brought it to his lips, and placed a kiss to the back. He then leaned in and captured your lips in a gentle kiss.

You were the first one to pull away pressing your foreheads together.

“I’ve missed you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve missed you too, my prince.”

He shook his head and laughed.

“I’ve told you to stop calling me that.”

You chuckled in response.

The two of you held each other relishing in the other’s warmth.

“The gods of Olympus have not stopped talking about you.”

He hummed in a questioning manner.

“Have they?”

You nodded

“Yes, they’re excited that you’ve decided to join them up on Olympus.” You paused for a moment. “I wonder how they’ll react when they realize that you won’t be joining them.”

He looked away, cringing at the thought of how his Olympic family will fare with the news of his deception.

“I’ll… get to that when it happens.”

The two of you went back into silence.

Though you used this moment to get a good look at Zagreus.

He had many injuries from his many battles in Tartarus and Asphodel. Having only a few chances to rest and even fewer chances to heal his wounds. He looked utterly exhausted.

Pulling back, you looked down at your intertwined hands with furrowed brows.

“My prince, how I wish you would end this rebellion, I don’t think I can bear to watch you go through so much pain and suffering.” You let your shoulders slump. “Especially when I cannot be there to protect you.”

His gaze lowered for a moment before rising back to look at your face.

“I know, but you know why I must do this.”

He pulled his hands free of yours, cupping your face, making you meet his eyes.

“I cannot waste the rest of my life, trapped in this dreadful place any longer, and if I must fight the entire kingdom of the dead to escape, then so be it.”

You stayed silent before letting out a deep breath.

“I knew you would say that.”

You straightened up.

“That is why I will continue to do whatever I can to help guide you on your journey.”

The two of you stared into each other’s eyes a mutual understanding written in your eyes.

The moment was then interrupted by a lapse in your sphere of peace when Zagreus hissed in pain as his wounds began to regain their sting.

“It appears our time here has come to an end.”

“It appears so.” He hissed. “I will miss you, my love.”

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his and hugged him close to your chest.

“I will miss you too.”

You felt him become lighter and lighter until he fazed right through your arms.

You watched as he fell into the spectral waters of the River Styx. His form becoming obscured by the blood-red waters until he was no longer visible.

“Goodbye, Zagreus until we meet again, my love.”

Zagreus awakened in the entrance hall of the House of Hades.

He climbed out of the river and sighed.

All of his blessings have been purged in the process of dying and he’s back home. Though he should be used to it by now he can’t get rid of the slight disappointment that gnaws at him.

He made his way down the dimly lit hall, passing by shades waiting in line in front of Hades. He walked until he approached the snoozing form of Hypnos, the god of sleep.

Said god startled awake when Zagreus approached.

“Huh? Oh, hey Zagreus, killed by a hydra this time? That sucks, ya know the heads of the hydra creep me out big time I’m glad I don’t have to be anywhere near them, I feel bad for the suckers who make the mistake of getting too close.”

Zagreus listened to the gods rambling.

“Uh-huh, lucky you.”

Hypno dismissively waved his hand.

“I didn’t mea- wait, what’s that?”

Zagreus raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Hypnos pointed to something on his chest.

He looked down and saw a gold necklace hanging from his neck.

“That’s new, where did that come from?” Zagreus asked as he hooked a finger around the chain. The metal felt unnaturally warm.

“Beats me, but if you don’t mind I think I should get back to work.”

He nodded and stepped away. 

Turning on his heel, he would have to pass by his father to get back to his room.

Taking in a breath, he held his head up high and began walking.

He felt his father's gaze burning into him the entire way, but he did not utter a word.

Zagreus entered his room, immediately heading to the large mirror gifted to him by Nyx, using it to get a clearer look at the necklace.

The pendant at the end of the necklace is in the shape of a skull, with a small heart-shaped diamond embedded in the forehead.

He racked his brain for where it came from.

It wasn’t there the last time he visited the mirror and he hasn’t received any more keepsakes from anyone recently.

He stared at it before it clicked in his mind.

The pendant. It was the same one that you adorned on a necklace that you wore before he had gifted you a new one.

He smiled at his reflection. He felt the familiar soothing warmth softly emanating from it.

He reached up and lightly clutched it to his chest.

“Thank you, my love. I’ll treasure it.”

He felt the necklace pulse in his hand.

With a determined look, he made his way through the courtyard and stood at his window preparing to exit.

“(Y/N), my love, guide me.”

The necklace pulsed it’s warmth once more in response.

He took a deep breath and jumped, prepared to fight through hell once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Tag list}If you want to be added to the tag list, send an ask or look at my pinned post!

@lotsofrandom @your-strangelove @yumeneji @nahtoolazy @dumbass-calamari @naonaocat @tamakiwithcrab @delightfulcupquakequeen @brithedemonspawn @chatnoirfangirl1624 @redsharksimp <- Sorry anyone who isn’t tagged properly but I wasn’t able to tag you!

[internalsealpanic]

Death Cannot Take You

Summary: You died. You should have died, yet here you are having the audacity to still be walking. 

A/n: This is semi abandoned old guard au. I made it for 3 reasons. 1) I love Old Guard. 2) I love writing resurrection scenes cus it makes my brain calm. 3) This is a poly that I am desperate for.  

Warning: Violence, kidnapping, terrible explanations, and blatant disregard for patient care. 

The world shook violently as it staggered into view— blotchy patches of fluorescent lights and rough textures. Drowning the heavy scrape of metal is a chorus of thumping and ringing in your ears. Your hands fly to the seat in front of you, cold metal pressed against hot skin as the train rattles on. It makes your stomach lurch, dredging out its contents. 

Crumpled in your seat, you heave a ragged breath. You retch, the contents of your stomach burning in your esophagus. You screw your eyes shut unable to take another long gulp of air; it stung to breathe in the piss heavy air. You need to breathe. You need the oxygen. You need your mind in working order. Sucking in a greedy lungful, you cough it out, body rejecting it. 

There was a heat.

A pulse. 

A pistol.

A laugh. 

You can remember the wetness of saliva and blood and tears on your face as the warmth bled out of your fingertips. 

It was cold. 

It was so cold. 

Your heartbeat picks up. It’s getting harder to breathe. Your windpipe is closing. The world is getting smaller. The bones in your hands are rattling. 

A cry pries itself out of your chest, tearing its way out of your mouth. They’re not stopping. They’re still laughing. 

No. 

No. 

No. 

Please god, no. 

With another violent rattle, your consciousness slips. 

You’re cold again. Shadows grasp at the corners of your vision. The world is blotchy— a patch of tangling threads. 

The alley smells of piss and garbage. The smell is thick enough to make you choke. Your heart had stopped a while ago. No, your mind did. No, it was your heart you’re sure. No, no. It was his heart that stopped. 

It’s cold. Someone is crying out for you. It’s your father. You’re scared. Your blue eyes are fading in color. You’ve faced death before— No, not you. He has. He’s faced death always with a smile but now with his heart at a complete stand still he’s sure this is it. He’s sure this is how he dies. It isn’t on the trapeze or because of some cookie plan made by a costumed nut case. Your— his heart stops. 

He died. 

So did he. There’s another man. He’s lying on the battlefield. The sky is so pretty. You can hear canonfire. There’s another man beside him. He’s dying too. Your fair hair is matted red. Your— his flesh is reknitting itself. It’s— The whole in his— your stomach is closing the whole in it.  You’re gasping for breath. The alley doesn’t stink of piss and garbage; it smells like cotton fields and summer heat. 

He died.

You died. 

There’s a buzzing in the air— the thrum of electricity as it writhes in the wires. Bouncing your leg, you wait for the receptionist to call your name. Anxiety sings in your veins like a chorus of scraping metal. 

You don’t remember what happened last night— not clearly. 

It’s all a melting pot of images and voices and touches. 

You cup your hand over your mouth, the stomach acid burning its way up your esophagus. Your tongue is tacky with dried saliva and the lingering taste of copper. They’re laughing. They’re all still laughing. The ringing in your ears won’t stop. 

You fold. Legs curl up into your chest as you dip your head under. Eyes sliding shut, you let the darkness pool in your mind. The vague sounds in the emergency room coalescing into a discordant symphony. You let yourself dream again. 

You lift your head up slowly, colors bleeding into view. The words don’t make sense. 

“Kid, are you ok?” 

You regard the large man with the open—mouthed confusion of a fish. He’s handsome in a rough sort of way— grisled with a full beard, cropped hair, and gunmetal blue eyes— eye. He’s got an eye patch. You swallow. Your lungs inflate as they inhale the sterile scent of the room. The smell of hand sanitizer is too thick. He’s tall. You crane your neck to look up at him. It hurts. He must easily be 6’3”, maybe even taller. His chest is broad and through the shirt, he’s wearing you can see the expanse of taut well—defined muscles. His lips are curved up at one side in a lopsided smirk. Your head is pounding. You shut your eyes, vigorously nodding your head. You know what he’s staring at. You know what his eyes— eye— are trained on. 

You… You haven't changed. The crisp white shirt you’d worn to your job is dark and wrinkly with dried blood.  You hate it. You hate how uncharacteristically messy you look; it makes you feel off—model, like something that is a cluttered version of you.  

You curl up again. This time the ringing in your ears blocks out everything else.  Your head dips back into the dark. It’s cold and stuffy and your ears were ringing when they—

Your eyes fly open and there’s a figure in front of you. You squint. The figure is smaller, less broad; a nursing assistant with kind eyes stands over you with a clipboard. You breathe. You turn your head to the man from before. He’s standing next to a man— younger, shorter. He looks dwarfed next to the other man but he’s average height and it would be funny if you had the energy. You’re far enough away that you can’t be sure of his features but it’s not hard to tell that he’s pretty.  He’s got rich brown skin, black hair, and a gymnast’s poise. He’s familiar. Both of them are. They’re talking to the police. You freeze.  

Are they here for you? Who are they?

“I need you to follow me back into the ER,” she says gently, grip firmly grasping your shoulder. You run your hand through your matted hair. Your hand comes back slick and sticky with sweat and dried blood. The oxygen in your lungs stutters. You feel another squeeze on your shoulder.  You’re back. You’re not whole but you’re back. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, legs wobbling beneath you as you stand. 

You follow her. It’s faint but you can feel someone follow you as you disappear into the hall with her. 

The walk to the hall was peaceful. It was steadying. It’s the talk with the doctor that’s putting you on edge.  He’s tapping his pen on the clipboard. Your mind writhes with every tap. Sighing, you rub your eyes and try to push the sensations away. “I— I’m so sorry. I’m just. It’s my mind. I just can’t—” you breathe “—I can talk. I’m sorry.” You wave vaguely. 

“Alright tell me what happened.”

You swallow. Your trachea still feels splintered. “I—” breathe “—I was cornered. In an alley. Behind a butcher shop. I was trying to take a short cut—” he taps a pen against the board "— I was attacked." You finish, fingers tracing up the length of your throat. Attacked was too quick a word. Attacked was the kind of word you used for the quick in and out of a knife— the split second bite of a bullet.  You weren’t attacked. You were— what happened to you felt like an eternity. 

Shuffling, he looks you over. There's a prickle in the back of your neck. There's someone watching you. Your eyes flick. There's the young man. His eyes are a warm tropical blue. He waves at you. He looks uneasy. The man from before is trying not to pay attention.  Your legs swing, almost clipping the doctor's clipboard. The doctor frowns at you but you shrug. 

"You don't seem to have been injured." 

You blink. "That's not possible," you say, hands shaking,"they had me for hours." No that wasn't true. At most they had you for an hour or maybe two but that didn’t matter not at the bite of the bullet, not at the slice of flesh, not at the impact of the bat. 

"I need you to breathe," the doctor instructs, placing a hand on your back; it tenses. You go rigid. He pulls back muttering about x—rays and brain scans. 

Catching his lab coat in a death grip, you beg: "Please don't leave me." 

"Ma'am, you're perfectly safe here." 

They will find you. 

He thinks you're hysterical. You know that from the way he looks at you, like a caged animal. "We have security personnel if need be," he assures, none—too—gently prying his coat from your grip. "We'll close the curtain if that makes you feel safe and there are hospital gowns in the closet if you'd like to change." 

You nod quietly. 

You slowly peel off your shirt. The cool air stings. You suck in a breath. You think of the dream you had. That man's heart stopping. The press of lips. The bite of metal against skin. You look down at your skin— no bruises, no cuts, nothing. 

You're scared. 

You know these memories aren't fully yours. 

You hear the door slide open. Your knee jerk reaction is to be embarrassed. You're in your underwear. Pulling on a gown, you're ready to snarl at the intruder. Your heart stops. It's the man from before. 

"Did they take a blood sample from you yet?" He asks, closing the curtain behind him. 

His gaze is unyielding as he makes slow predatory strides towards you. You flatten yourself against the wall. "No— I— what?" 

"Good." 

"What—" There's a sharp pain in the side of your head. There's blood trickling down the side of your  head. Your vision is fading.

Falling forward, you grasp your blood tacky hands at his shirt.  You feel weightless. You're on his shoulder. 

"Who are you?" 

"You'll find out." 

The desert sand billows as a gust of wind blows through the dunes. You’re searching for someone. Your friend. His friend not yours. He’s somewhere. He’s being held prisoner. You’ve kept him waiting long enough. 

 You turn your head and the scene shifts. 

There’s a sky full of lights above you, glittering. You can’t tell if they’re man made or not. You reach out to them. Your hands aren’t yours. You squint. Your hands are dark and calloused— covered in sawdust. There’s a terrible shape in your stomach. You’re scared but that’s not new. There’s always a little fear when you go on the trapeze. 

You shift under the cover, limbs wrapped around a pillow.  The smell of freshly roasted coffee is heavy in the air. You burrow your face more into the pillow. Mark can wake you up—

"And you thought kidnapping her was the solution?!" 

You wince at the tone. Shuffling your limbs quitely out of the covers, you press yourself to the wall, peaking over the corner just a fraction— just enough to see two men arguing. The taller man with white hair facing the hall opening into the sleeping area. 

“It was.”

“Slade, you can’t just go kidnapping people!” the younger man shouts, his face red while his arms waved all over the place. Slade, you assumed,  stood impassively, but his arms were now crossed over his chest in a defensive manner. 

“I just did.”

The younger man runs his hand over his face and through his hair, ruffling it in frustration. “She’s going to be terrified when she wakes up.”

You are. Your eyes flick to the window. You could escape.  You're in a motel room you realize. If they’re distracted enough, you could make it out. 

“Well, Kid, it looks like you’re right.”

“Of course, I am—”

You look up. The two men are looking in your direction. Should you go back to the bed and pretend to be asleep? Is there any point? Just make a run for it. 

You sprint only to hit what feels like a brick wall. You stagger back but what feels like a metal band wraps around your waist.  The next thing you know is that you feel weightless. 

“Slade, put her down! You’re going to give her a heart attack.”

“Relax, kid, it’s not like it’s gonna kill her.” Your body is dropped unceremoniously on the bed. You bounce a couple of times before your body settles against the soft sheets. Scrambling back against the headboard, you look between the two men trying to  decide what to do. You place a pillow in front of you as a shield. The pounding of your heart is loud in your ears that you don’t think you’ll be able to hear anything that comes out of your mouth. 

“I’m broke,” you finally manage. You turn to the younger man. “My roommate is broke too.” He gives you a confused furrow in his brow. “We can’t afford ransom. You won’t get anything, so please just… just let me go. I won’t tell the police. I promise.” Folding your legs behind the pillow, you press yourself into the headboard further.  The young man sighs and slumps. “We don’t want money.” You stiffen, keenly aware that save for the flimsy protection of the hospital gown, you’re only in your underwear. He seems to realize what you’d concluded. 

 Slade snorts. “Way to go, kid.”

“Yeah, thanks for the help, asshole.”

“I have done nothing wrong.”

“Ah, yes. Aside from kidnaping her you mean,” he snarls. You swallow loudly, trying to keep the bile down. The younger man turns to you, the impressive glare he was sporting slides way too easily into concern. His body rolls into a different shape; it’s the kind of posture you’ve used when comforting your younger sibling.  He lowers himself on the bed slowly. He reaches out a hand. Carefully, he says “We won’t hurt you.”

And you want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him. 

“Real convincing, Grayson.” Slade sneers as he watches your recoil from Grayson’s outstretched hand. Grayson levels another glare at Slade who simply huffs and shrugs. 

“I haven’t done anything to you. Please let me go.” You croak. 

Grayson looks at you helplessly. “(Y/n)... We can’t...”

“You died last night.” Slade says. Nothing in his tone suggests a question. It’s just a statement. No room for doubt. 

You blink, nose scrunching. “I— I was mugged.” You cover your face with your hands. You’re pretty positive that you’d remember being murdered and you say as much. You got cornered by three to four gang members and they mugged you. That was it. 

Your stomach rebels at the thought. 

Grayson gives you that pitying look again. He pries your hands from your face, blue eyes bearing down at you with so much concern. His touch is so gentle that you almost cry. “Sweetheart, think about it.”

You shake your head trying to pull your hand away from him. He doesn’t let you. Your head is throbbing. You’re scared and confused and you’re starting to feel anger prickle under your skin.  “I think I would know if I died, asshole,” you snarl and the shift in tone catches them both off guard. 

Slade sighs. There’s a flash of metal and a gunshot. The pain radiates from the middle of your stomach; it’s sharp. Some small, shrill sound escapes you.  You’re gasping as you look at him again. He’s looking at a watch. It looks expensive. It’s funny how even  during death your mind finds a way to procrastinate. 

“It’s taking a little while. Of all the inconveniences, why is it so slow the first few times?”Slade mutters in a voice that would sound right at home in a self checkout line. His shoe is tapping against the rug. You wonder if that’s expensive too. 

“Why would you shoot her?” Grayson demands, shooting up from his spot on the bed. The loss of weight jostles the bed. You wince. 

You look down. Something strange is happening. Your flesh like cloth is reknitting, leaving the seamless expanse of your stomach. 

You look back up, eyes blown wide and frantic. You pat your stomach, hand coming away with a thin film of blood but the strange tingling you get when you’re expecting to feel something but you don’t. The bullet hole wasn’t there. It just wasn’t. 

A sprawl of frantic horror lives down the line of your sternum. It was the kind of amorphous energy you get when something doesn’t make sense, when something just shouldn’t have happened— a sort of odd dislocation in the universe. 

Grayson holds his hands up in a placating manner as he sits back down on the bed. He’s careful not to jostle you but you barely notice.  You think his hands look familiar.  Your— his calloused hands reach out to you. “You need to trust us.”

“You. Just. Shot. Me.”

“Correction, he shot you.”

Slade rolls his eye. “Ah yes, kid, very helpful.” 

“It’s an important distinction.”

“Fine!” You point to Slade. “You shot me.” You point to Grayson. “You. Let. Him.”

“Sweetheart, I appreciate that you think I have any control over that brute,” Grayson says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “but I have about as much control over that brute as I do over a storm. ”

Unamused, you throw a pillow at Grayson hard enough that he almost topples over the edge. You grab another pillow and Grayson raises the pillow you threw at him in defense. You can see the smile in his eyes; it makes the acid behind your teeth boil. All embarrassment and horror bleed out to give way to anger as you throw the pillow at him with the same ferocity as before. Slade snatches the pillow midair saving Grayson from having to deflect it. Grayson gives him a smile that looks like an insincere apology. Slade, like you, seems unconvinced and pushes your discarded pillow into Grayson’s fine—boned face. It does nothing to wipe the grin off his face but you feel a little better knowing you’re not the only one who has to endure him. 

You fight the urge to laugh but  not too hard. The chords of your muscles come loose and for the first time in what feels like an age, you feel tired. “I’m dead. I died. Then you shot me… And then you shot me. WHAT THE HELL?” You say, the accusation directionless. You were supposed to die on a smoking heap of trash, gutted and pathetic. Hands falling limply to your sides, you let your mind go through that a dozen times because, well, how does one process their own death and undeath? You shouldn't still be here. 

"What’s happening to me?" 

"She's acting far more reasonable than you did." Slade teases. 

Grayson scowls at him, slapping him with the pillow. Slade just kind of grunts clearly less hurt than annoyed. Considering the solid wall of muscle the man is sporting, you wouldn’t be surprised if it would take nothing short of a brick to hurt him. "YOU SHOT ME IN THE HEAD THEN SHOT ME THROUGH THE STOMACH." 

“I only shot you in the stomach because the bullet through your head didn’t get through your thick skull.”

You’re one missed heartbeat away from laughing. Your brows shoot up, limp limbs coming back to life as you curl in on yourself again. What have you gotten yourself into?

"Oh my god, I mean— Shit!" Slade snorts as Grayson flails. Grayson puts his hand in his face, groaning. “Sorry about that… Slade is terrible at explanations.”

Slade makes a noise in the back of his throat. It sounds like a laugh and twitch of his lip would suggest so but you're still second guessing yourself. "You're one to talk Mr. We Won't Hurt You." The air fills with Slade's amusement as Grayson’s cheeks flush. It's funny how easily pretty shifts to adorable. 

You sigh raking your hand through your hair. It's been an exceptionally long day. "What’s happening to me?" You whine mostly to yourself. "I'm not a meta. I think I would know if I was something like that… Right?" You look up at Grayson who just gives you a complicated expression. "You know what's going on don't you?" You say, crawling closer to Grayson. He shifts a bit, keeping his eyes straight. Grayson blinks and runs his hand through his hair, collecting his scattered thoughts. He leans back, putting a bit of space between you as he speaks. "We got off on the wrong foot," he says extending a hand to you, "the name's Dick—”

“Are you sure?” and Slade laughs at your question. Grayson— Dick (is that really his name?) looks tired like he’s heard this question a million times. “Yes, I’m sure about my name.” You feel a little bad but not enough to actually say anything that even comes close to an apology. “Anyway,” Dick (?) continues,”the grumpy old man over there is Slade. We’re sort of in the same boat as you.”

The last line makes you pause. You think back to your dreams, the quick flashes of sensations. Oh. That was— Oh. Your stomach feels like lead. You watched them— Oh. 

“I’m sorry.” you say, at a loss of what else to say. Death was an intimate thing. You guessed that only the dead or the previously dead would know that. You fold your hands on your lap as you sit back on your legs, a primm gesture that made you feel solid and a bit more like yourself than you had in hours. 

Dick’s warm blue eyes are wide. He goes still for a moment taking in what you’d just said. His head shakes and he smiles at you, an expression that is weightless. It made you think of the trapeze. “It’s ok,” he assures you, warm hand on yours, “it’s not your fault… Anyway!” You use the very sarcastic brows you’ve been given to convey your concern about the neck snapping shift in tone. Dick looks at you sheepish, hand rubbing the back of his neck before deciding to soldier on.  “We don’t know why but some individuals are brought back to life and are made immortal. We’ve— I’ve got a few working theories but—”

“Immortal.” You repeat, trying to make the concept make sense. 

“We, now including you, don’t die, kid.” Slade deadpans. 

“Thanks. I’ve read a dictionary.” You say, eyes flicking to your very much intact stomach. Dick laughs, the sound high and breezy. He tries to stifle it but even the hand cupped over his mouth couldn’t contain the sound. Slade’s long leg stretches to give Dick a not so light kick. This does nothing but increase the volume of his laughter.  You look back up at them. “So, what does my latest existential crisis have to do with either of you?”

“Well for one,” Slade says, standing up, “we can’t have you running around with a millenia old secret without even attempting to teach you how to disappear first.” This is what gets your stomach to rebel. Bile is climbing up your throat. Dick, quick as a whip, holds a trash can out for you. You put your hand in front of you. You hold out your hand to stop him, not even sure if you had anything in your stomach aside from acid. 

You had just started getting your life back together and then this. Shaking your head, you try to break the thought down into more manageable pieces before swallowing it. “Ok. ok. That makes sense. I guess.”

Dick pulls back still looking concerned. “You are taking this alarmingly well.”

You stare at him. Your stomach rolls again. "Do I have a choice?" You ask from behind your hand. 

Slade huffs, "she's right, kid."

"Is he just gonna keep calling us kid or..." 

"Considering he's got 700 years on the both of us?" Dick laughs like he didn't just hit you with a ton of bricks.

"Ah, so he's a museum piece. Got it." You deadpan and you're rewarded with another roll of laughter from Dick. Slade grunts but doesn't protest much more than that. You turn your focus to Dick. "So how old are you?"

"A lady never tells," Dick says, crows feet wrinkling at the corners of his eyes. You blow air between your lips. "Lemme guess, you're like 2000 years old."

Dick makes a noise; it sounds offended. You don't much care, finally feeling a smile creeping on to your face. It doesn't hurt when you do not like everything else right now. That fact would be almost uncomfortable if you weren't so weary.

Folding your knees against your chest, you squish your face against your arms. "No seriously, old man. How old are you?"

"You're persistent." Dick hums.

"I want to know if I can cite you for my thesis on ancient greek culture."

Dick shakes his head. "You're better off citing him."

"Sadly, he's right Grayson is just a mere 27 years old."

You blink. He's— He's around your age. You breathe. "Ok so I'm not alone. Great."

"You're not," Slade says, "he was much harder to deal with."

"Do I have to keep mentioning that you shot me twice?" Dick asks crossing his arm sover his chest.

"Are you ever going to stop bringing it up?"

"When it stops working."

"It ever started."

From their banter, they're familiar with each other. The tiredness from before ebbs back in. You feel alone. Out of habit, you bury your head against your knees.  There is something comforting about the stillness.

A warm hand settles on your shoulder. You jolt up, knocking the back of your skull against the headboard. It makes a loud thunk against the wall. Dick winces, pulling his hand away from you. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." You lied  still seeing stars.

 They look unconvinced. You don't quite care. "You look like you need a good meal."

"Or a hot shower," Slade suggests. 

You think it over, hand on your stomach brain still looking for the bullet wound. Eyes flicking between both, you lick your lips before saying: "I'll take you up on that shower." Your eyes drift back down to your arms, concentrating on the small details, the imperfections you've gathered through the years. The thought that you won't be able to add more doesn't really register like it should.

Dick nods getting up to grab something.  "I might need a couple of minutes in there," you say absently. 

"Take all the time you need." Dick says handing you a towel and a fresh shirt. You accept them with a small nod, carefully peeling yourself away from the bed.  Your eyes go into a tunnel vision, only focused on the door to the shower. 

You stop, a hand gripping your wrist. The pressure is solid and reassuring. You turn back to see Dick, biting his cheek."It'll get better I promise."

You give Dick a crooked smile. "I'll probably feel a lot better when I'm not covered in blood."

"That always helps," Slade says flatly. 

"You'd know."

"You really wanna scare her more right now?"

"It's just way too easy with you around."

"Please save the other world shattering revelations after my shower," You whine pulling the towel to your chest. 

"Can't promise that." Slade says with a rumble that just radiates bastard. 

You blow out a breath, raising a middle finger  over your shoulder. It was a rude gesture you'd never normally even consider but it felt appropriate at this moment.

"Hope you don't mind pizza." Dick says already dialing the number.

You stop leaning against the door, face squished against the frame. "What kind?"

"Hnnnnn... I figure you would like ham and mushrooms." 

With amusement, you note how Slade blanches quietly behind Dick. You quietly question both of their maturities. "how'd you figure oh wise ancient one?"

"Please don't ask him that."

"Why not? I'm curious to see how his mind works."

"You're going to regret that."

You cock your brow as Dick draws himself up. He reminds you of a pitcher winding up. "Because I'm a fun—guy, get it?"

Slade groans, hand on his face and for once he looks like an old man not like a terrifying wall of intimidation. 

"You're right. I do regret it," you say, stifling a laugh,"anyway, if you'll excuse me, the shower is calling my name. You two love birds have fun."

Slade sits beside Dick, an arm wrapping around his waist. "You heard the lady. She told us to have fun," Slade rumbles into Dick's ear only loud enough for you to hear. You flush. Realization hitting you like a truck. The color of Dick's face mimicking yours as he shoves Slade's face away. That warm shower will now be a cold one, you think as you awkwardly shuffle into the bathroom.

Instead of a shower, you elected for a nice soak. You're too weary and rung out and you hadn't seen a decent bath tub in a few years so you took the chance. It's not like an infection from the tub could kill you, right? 

You step out of the bathroom feeling refreshed if not a bit cold from your shirt. Dick's shirt was big but it stopped shy of your thighs. You couldn't really complain. You were just happy to get out of the blood soaked clothes.

You pad your way into the room and eyes are instantly on you. Slade quite blatantly stares at the curve of your ass as it peaks out from under your shirt. You think of scolding him but decide to leave that up to Dick who… is also staring at you… in the same area. He has the decency to look embarrassed when you catch him. Clearing his throat, Dick answers the knock on the door which just adds another set of eyes on you.

A poor pimple faced kid stands frozen at the door, slack jawed. His eyes dart around the room, frantically looking for a camera or something. You sigh. You too could see how this could be a lazy set up to a porn. You’re slightly flattered at the idea that you could be astronomically hot enough to be in a porn with either of these two but you’re more worried about the kid having to deal with a boner while he delivers pizzas. Dick, incredibly oblivious to the problem, seems to take his time looking for his wallet. 

Slade, not oblivious to the problem, makes his way to the poor kid, looking as imposing as possible as he hands the kid a fifty. Whatever arousal the kid felt at the moment floods out of him along with any color in his face. 

You snort plopping on to the bed and crossing your leg over the other and you watch as the men’s eyes widen as they trace the expanse of skin. This is the closest you will ever be to a bond girl.

Slade slams the door in the kids face, not even bothering with the change. Dick rolls his eyes with a crooked smile playing on his lips. “She hasn’t been with us for a day and you’re already acting possessive,” Dick laughs, patting Slade’s chest as he walks past. 

Dick plops on the bed next to you. You press your cheek into his shoulder as he opens the box. The smell of greasy cheese and canned vegetables floods your nostrils in a concert of sweet, unhealthy goodness. Your stomach rumbles and your hand darts down to get a piece. Your hand jerks back as your skin tingles from the heat. 

“Sorry, love, you can still feel pain.” Dick says, puckering his face as he blows the rising steam away. As if to be contrary, Slade grabs the largest slice and immediately takes a bite. You turn to Dick, raising a brow to ask. “Him? He’s just a weirdo.” Dick answers, grabbing his own slice.  You roll your eyes grabbing your own slice. 

Dick’s trying hard not to stare at your legs but ends up staring at your lips instead.  “Do you have any spare pants?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza. 

“I’ll get it,” Slade says before Dick can even stumble out a response, “clearly wonder boy hadn’t thought this through.” 

You hum around another mouthful in agreement and Dick just looks at you betrayed. You uncross and recross your legs to prove your point. 

Shifting away from Dick and swallowing the last bit of your pizza, you take the pants Slade offers you and you’re not at all surprised that it doesn’t fit right. “Any chance I can go back to my apartment? Even just for clothes?”   

“Sadly no.”

“Should I ask?”

“Do you really feel like talking to cops right now, kid?”

“Yanno, you’re gonna have to distinguish between us at some point,” Dick huffs, opening a can of soda,”and she’s right we do need to get her new clothes.” He hands you a can. Not feeling parched, you just roll it in your palm feeling the need to indulge in the feeling on cool metal. You catch yourself before you tuck your legs against your chest again. 

“I don’t see why you’re so hell bent on this, kid 1. You clearly like seeing her in your clothes.” Slade says, flatly the way you’d read out the summary of a particularly boring movie summary, probably based on a Nicholas Sparks novel. 

“You think adding a number is enough effort to distinguish us?” Dick sneers, trying to distract from the flush of his cheeks. 

“Would you prefer I call you ‘Sport’?”

“Dick, for both of our sake’s please accept being called Sport.”

“No!”

“How about ‘Chum’?”

Dick’s nose wrinkles at the name. You’re not sure if it’s the name itself, the way it rolls off of Slade’s tongue, or something to do with your dream.  You don’t know Dick well enough to discern. 

“Please don’t.” Dick tries politely and there’s a tinge of sadness in his tone. Slade seems to back off, easing into his chair. 

You open your mouth wanting to pry but instead of asking the question on the tip of your tongue, you settle for asking for another slice. The air is full of questions but you’re not really sure which one to pluck out. Then again, you’ve got time. And really? Right now, that’s all you have.

Before you can dwell too much on that thought, Slade turns the TV on to drown out whatever Dick was saying. You’d tuned him out a little bit ago. It wasn’t really a matter of choice; it was more a matter of your brain going on power saving mode. 

You blink sleepily, the voice of the anchor falling into a low hum in your mind. You’re pretty sure your name blips in between the static of words. There’s a dull recognition in the words ‘kidnapping’ and ‘suspects’ but it all seems so distant at the moment. No reaction registers upon realizing that they were probably talking about your kidnapping and really could anyone blame you when some cosmic fuckery just occurred and now your life has been turned on its head? ____________________________________________________________ Thanks for reading!