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munson-blurbs · 28 days

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Having a secret relationship wasn't as easy as you'd hoped it would be, especially when Eddie wasn't keen on keeping it a secret at all. (7.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, Reader wears a sun dress, making out, heavy petting, public displays of affection, sexual fantasies, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

A/N: had to include Eddie's favorite fruit in here. Shoutout to @eddiemunsonsmum for writing the best solo Eddie fics out there.

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter twelve: breath of fresh air

May teetered on the edge of June, the steadily climbing temperatures and the pungent odor of garbage signaling the beginning of another New York City summer.

You awoke just after noon, sunlight pouring through the windows. Whispers of a headache nagged in your skull; not quite a hangover, but scarily close to one. Another drink definitely would have put you over.

With a tired grimace, you shoved the covers aside and started your day. A day just like any other, except that you were still reeling from the fact that Eddie kissed you last night. That precious moment of connection was bested only by the sound of your name murmured from his lips onto yours.

The memory put a smile on your face as you dressed in your standard shorts and t-shirt. You wanted to kiss him over and over, to run your fingers through his mess of curls and hold him close, not parting until you both needed a breath.

You could still taste the stain of nicotine when you swiped your tongue over your lips. Could still hear his breathy moan in your ear like a harmony. Could still feel his belt buckle pressed to your skin, the metal cold yet somehow filling you with a blazing heat.

Stripping the linens off of the bed, you lost yourself in thoughts of how it would feel to have Eddie laying beside you, his body pressing yours into the mattress, hands framing your body as he sank deeper into you—

You needed fresh air. Immediately.

You tucked the pale pink sheets under your arm, time-faded from their original rosy hue to a salmon color, and zigzagged to the recently vacated rooms. The change of scenery did nothing to quell the desire stirring within you. Your mind was wrought with images of Eddie trailing his lips down your throat, or his teeth nipping at your collarbone, or his fingers slipping into your underwear—

“Stop it,” you hissed under your breath. The next stop was Eddie’s room, and you’d be damned if he had any inkling of the feelings you were harboring.

His door swung open before you could even knock, halting you in your tracks. “Heard your footsteps down the hall,” he admitted, sheepishness coloring his cheeks pink.

You only nodded as you caught your breath and your heart floated down from your throat into your chest. Thank God he couldn’t read your thoughts. “Got your pants?”

“Right here.” He held them up, balled in his fist. “Lead the way.”

“I can, um,” you searched for your words, still scrambled from your earlier musings. “I can wash them myself.” You were already throwing in the rest of the laundry; a pair of jeans wouldn’t make much of a difference.

Eddie shook his head, curls bouncing from his temples. “Nah, ‘s cool.” He plucked the bundle of linens from you. “Hasn’t been a lot to fix around here lately, so I might as well do some housekeeping.”

You threw him a playful grin as you led him to the laundry room. “No moochers allowed in my motel, y’know.”

The overhead lighting bathed him in a yellowish haze, matching the once-white walls. Maybe that could be his next project.

“Exactly.” Eddie opened up a few cabinets, frowning when he couldn’t find what he’d been searching for. “Detergent?”

You pointed towards the cabinet below the sink. “Over there.”

Eddie saluted and stooped down to tug the economy-sized detergent tub from its spot. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring when his boxers peeked out from beneath the waistband of his jeans. Those damn Calvin Kleins; they would be your kryptonite.

“Heiress?”

Shit. He’d been talking to you, and all you could focus on was his underwear. “Yeah?”

“Do you have that stuff that makes the clothes smell really good?” He scooped out the detergent powder and sprinkled it in the washing machine.

You laughed. “Sorry, no daisy-fresh pants for you.”

The ensuing beat of silence seemed to stretch on for hours. Words bubbled on your tongue, desperate to continue talking to him. To discreetly sneak glances of the veins that intercepted his arm tattoos or of the sparse hair that adorned where his V-neck undershirt left his chest exposed.

“Do anything fun today?” Christ, were you talking to a toddler? Should you offer him a sticker or a lollipop?

But Eddie perked up at the question. “Yeah, actually. I called my uncle for the first time in…” he scrunched up his mouth in contemplation. “Too damn long.”

“How did that go?”

He set the dial to “start,” the washing machine humming to life. “Pretty good.” He hoisted himself on top of the adjacent dryer. “Same old Wayne. The world might change, but he never will.” Eddie’s eyes met yours. “When I started making money, I offered to buy him a house. Get him out of the trailer park and into a safer neighborhood. And he refused.”

Your brows raised. “He did?”

Eddie nodded, chuckling at the memory. “Said that if he left, there wouldn’t be anyone to feed the stray dogs.” He cocked his head, concentrating on your face. “You two would get along well. Similar personalities.”

“Thoughtful?”

“Yes, but to the point of stubbornness.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Eddie cut you off. “Don’t even argue with me, Miss Social Worker by Day, Heiress by Night.” His feet swayed back and forth, tapping against the metal every so often. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the box of crayons that you keep in the desk for kids like Izzy.”

He might have had a point, but if you were going down, you’d go down swinging. “If I recall, one of us chose to sleep at a bus stop instead of accepting my gracious offer.”

“But I took you up on it eventually.”

“Only because I practically forced you,” you argued.

“Exactly.” Eddie grinned. “Thoughtful to the point of stubbornness.”

A stillness filled the small room, and you wondered if he had the same agenda as you: keep the conversation flowing without bringing up the date. Without bringing up the kiss; the one that seared through you and set your bones aflame. That kiss sent you to bed aching for more, mentally mapping out any way you could sneak into his room without your parents noticing.

Eddie broke the silence. “I meant to ask…did you have a good time last night?” He scratched at the nape of his neck, the gesture betraying any air of casualness.

“Yeah.” You smiled, trying to ignore the fluttering in your abdomen. Your skin warmed at the memory of his touch. “I mean, I got to hear you sing, and I reunited our drunk friend with her boyfriend. I don’t see how it could get better than that.”

He laughed at that and ducked his head. “Those were the highlights?” His eyes met yours; that knowing gaze seared through you and sent your nerves humming. “Nothing else?”

“There was…another highlight.” Longing anchored the words deep in your throat, but you forced them up. You let them seep in, placing the ball squarely in his court.

“Yeah?”

Eddie inched back onto the dryer, the shift opening a gap between his legs. A space for you to fill. Your feet carried you as though they had a mind of their own, your body slotting against his.

“Tell me about this other highlight.” One hand reached out to yours and tugged you closer; he laid the other on your cheek. His thumb slowly swiped over your jaw as though he was memorizing its contour.

“Well,” you started, letting your fingers rest on his denim-clad thighs, “I really liked when we kissed.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up when you supplied the answer he’d been hoping for. “That makes two of us.” He let his forefinger trail down to your collarbone, the slight movement saturated with equal parts awe and desire. “I think we should do it again sometime.”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you asked, “when?”

“Right…” He grinned, and before you could double-check that you’d closed the door, his lips crashed into yours. You felt his tongue cautiously prod at the seam, seeking entry, and you allowed it. The scents of cigarettes and spearmint gum accompanied his tongue in a way that was so uniquely him.

Eddie only broke the kiss to bring his lips to your neck. He was gentle at first, peppering delicate kisses down the column of your throat, but he lost all control the moment you tilted your head and gave him clear access to your pulse point.

The hand on your cheek fell to your waist and pulled you close enough to feel Eddie’s heartbeat against your own chest. “This your favorite spot to be kissed?” He murmured into your skin. You felt him smile when you nodded in response. “Where else do you want me to kiss you?”

Was ‘everywhere’ a valid response? A soft sigh loosened itself and escaped you at the feeling of his teeth grazing your flesh. “Just my neck. For now,” you added, “but I like when…when you bite it, too.”

“I can do that.” Eddie’s voice rasped. He bit down again, swiping his tongue over the mark to soothe your bruising skin.

You gripped his t-shirt, resisting every urge to pull it up over his head. It wouldn’t be the first time you saw him bare-chested; that honor had been bestowed upon you the night he arrived. But now you could kiss it, trace the lines of his tattoos with your finger, with your tongue…

You needed it. You needed to memorize him, to learn every square inch of his body.

His shirt hit the ground and your lips immediately found his shoulders. Eddie’s arms snaked around you, keeping you in place as your tongue explored the contoured muscle.

“More,” he pleaded. “Fuck, keep kissing me there.”

Heat blossomed in your core. Your lips traveled, placing some marks of your own just below his collarbone, where they could be easily hidden. His skin was already tinged bluish-purple where you’d sucked and nibbled, proof that you had been there.

Eddie had pushed your own shirt right below your bra when the washing machine rattled, a stark reminder of where you were. Your chest and his rose and fell in syncopated beats. He loosened his grasp, letting your shirt fall back down your torso.

“Christ.” He chuckled, a low growl in his laughter. “I’m gonna need a second. You…Christ, Heiress.”

Your eyes traveled to where he instinctively palmed the bulge straining against his jeans. You wanted to be the one to touch it, to relieve him of his pent-up frustrations. Maybe you’d even get some relief of your own. But your gradually slowing heart rate informed you that the moment had passed.

“I, um…I didn’t just follow you in here to maul you like some horndog.” Eddie hopped off of the washer. He swiped his shirt from the floor and slid it over his head, once again cloaking his tattoos.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Hey.” Eddie bumped his elbow against your arm. His smile was uncharacteristically shy, which only made him more endearing. “My other reason for following you in here was because I wanted to see if you were free sometime this week.”

His hand brushed against yours. You let your fingers intertwine with his, soft and gentle in their touch. Your thumb grazed over one of the paler spots where he must’ve worn a ring. The coloring was beginning to match the rest of his finger as though the memory of the rings was fading away with time.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m around during the day.”

Eddie hooked his free pointer finger through your belt loop. “Cool.” He cocked his head. “Do people really have romantic picnics in Central Park? Or is that just in the movies?”

You laughed, leaning in and lightly kissing his jaw. Everything about him was so tempting. If there was a way to sneak him into your room without either of your parents noticing, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

“They do, but…” You shrugged. “Central Park is super overrated. In my opinion, anyway.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Another kiss, right below his ear this time. You could feel his body tense with each lingering touch. “Flushing Meadows is the superior park. Less crowded, shorter travel time, and you don’t have to worry about running into any Upper East Side snobs.”

Eddie tilted your chin so that you felt his lips on yours when he spoke. “Fuck those rich assholes.” The words were muffled and ended with him nipping at your lower lip; the slight pinch of pain from his teeth were sparks that set you alight.

Your hands framed his face as you kissed him, his grasp tight on your lower back. A wanting groan vibrated in his throat when he felt your body against his.

“Heiress.” Your nickname was molasses on his tongue, sweet and slow and syrupy. “Y’gotta let me take you on at least one more date before we do this. I’m tryna be a goddamn gentleman.”

He was right, even if his body seemed to protest. You needed to stop before you caused him physical pain. Needed to stop before you lost all semblance of control. Your first time with Eddie didn’t have to be caviar and champagne—and it likely would not be, given how broke you both were—but the occasion deserved to happen somewhere more private and more comfortable than the motel’s laundry room.

Eddie breathed out consciously, trying to collect himself. “Does Thursday work for you?”

You blinked, batting away the fogginess left behind by his touch. “Thursday would be perfect.”

“Perfect,” Eddie echoed. A cautious, nervous smile curved his lips. He paused for a half-second before leaning in once more and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Its gentleness scorched your skin, flames licking in its wake.

The kiss rooted you to the ground for a second too long, and Eddie was already turning the doorknob before you could listen for any incoming foot traffic.

“Wait, we–”

His eyes widened when the opened door revealed Phyllis heading back to her room. “Didn’t realize laundry was a two person job,” she quipped, revealing a smile of cigarette-stained teeth. “Although…it takes two people to get the sheets dirty…”

“That’s not–we weren’t–” you sputtered helplessly, knowing that there was nothing you could say that would make the situation any better.

“Well, it’s either you two were messing around in there, or he stuck his finger in an electrical socket.” Phyllis gestured to Eddie’s hair, mussed and sticking up from where you’d thread your fingers through it.

Eddie choked out a laugh, red creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks. Even the tips of his ears turned a delicious shade of pink. “The washer was making a, um, a noise. But it’s fixed now.”

Phyllis’s forehead creased as her brows raised, not believing a word he said. “The noises I heard didn’t sound like machinery. They sounded more like—”

“Phyllis,” you hissed, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t overly palpable.

The older woman took your hint and pivoted towards her room, seemingly satisfied with the buttons she’d already pushed. Though she likely hadn’t done it purposely, her comment about the noises served as a warning: If she heard them, your parents could have, too.

You needed to be more careful. In order for this burgeoning relationship to have a chance at survival, you needed to keep it a secret. Phyllis knew, but her worst offense would be quiet ribbings. Not everyone would remain so tight-lipped.

“Thursday…let’s meet at the bus stop.” There was the chance of someone seeing you together there, but at least it was less suspicious than Eddie knocking on your door.

Confusion rippled across Eddie’s face for a beat before he composed himself. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Good. A definite few steps down from his earlier declaration of perfect. Your heart sank, joining the lead ball of anxiety currently sitting in your stomach.

He’ll understand, you told yourself. He knew how it felt to have all sorts of external pressure pushing down on him; a weight too great to fight. It would all be fine.

Yet you couldn’t convince yourself that that was the truth, nor could you bring yourself to look back at him as you rushed to the front desk. You were suddenly eager for a chore or two to keep your thoughts at bay.

Amy’s Café was quieter than its usual bustling pace during the semester, and you easily snagged a table for three. It seemed like a blessing at the time, but now…

“Hold on,” Nora said through a bite of croissant. She held up her forefinger, signaling you and Ben to stay quiet until she finished chewing. “So you and Eddie were making out in the laundry room—”

“Don’t forget the part where she took off his shirt,” Ben added.

Nora nodded, brushing crumbs off of her hands. “Basically feeling each other up. And then Phyllis caught you, and he pretended that he was fixing the washing machine?” She laughed incredulously.

Ben put down his mug and shook his head. “It’s a good thing you didn’t get carried away. Imagine conceiving your child in the motel laundry room, ten feet away from your parents at the resident prostitute.”

“Oh, my god.” You buried your face in your hands. “We’ve gone on one date and you’re already talking about me having his baby?”

“People have made babies without going on any dates,” Ben pointed out. Nora just snickered.

“I hate you both.” You glanced between the two of them. It was hard to believe they’d met for the first time today. The way they effortlessly teased you in tandem was impressive for people who were basically strangers. “Can we please change the subject?”

Nora leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Not a chance. In fact,” she looked at Ben and then back to you, “we need to know more. Like, what are you wearing for this second date?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalant, though you’d been wondering the same thing. “I dunno. It’s a picnic, so nothing fancy, I guess.”

Your friends found that answer insufficient, both of them rolling their eyes in tandem. Ben took a bite of blueberry muffin and said nothing, but Nora plunged right ahead.

“Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

Nora sighed. “You never let yourself enjoy things. You should be happy about this. A hot guy is staying at your motel and can’t keep his hands off of you, and you’re all Mopey Magee about it.”

“I’m not Mopey Magee,” you mumbled, but she was right. Every time excitement began bubbling up, you shoved it back down. Every time your mind wandered, dipping into thoughts about a cozy future spent with Eddie, you yanked yourself back. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be happy; you just needed to stay realistic. Eddie wanted to be a rockstar, always on the go and living on the edge. You wanted to be a social worker, to come home and curl up with a good book. You’d be tucking yourself into bed as Eddie’s night was just beginning, and you’d wake up in the morning just as he was going to sleep.

Not to mention the women, especially Death Echo’s badass drummer. And it didn’t help that she was Eddie’s ex. No matter how far you let your imagination stretch, you would never be her.

“Hey.” Ben rested his hand on yours, his eyes kind and free of judgment. “We just want you to be excited. Eddie seems like a…decent guy.” Clearly, he wasn’t fully convinced after the fiasco of their first meeting, though he’d thawed out a bit since Eddie helped clean the vandalism.

Nora nudged him from her seat. “He’s more than decent. He took a cab all the way to school to bring her paper. He sang a lovey-dovey karaoke song for her. And he had enough respect to not completely maul her in the laundry room.” She looked at you and asked pointedly, “Tell us the truth: would you have fucked him if he didn’t stop you?”

“Nora!” Your entire body flooded with heat. It was all the confirmation Nora needed.

“See? He’s a good guy,” she declared. Case closed. “I bet he wants to, like, decorate the bed with rose petals and all of that corny shit.”

“He’ll probably play his guitar and serenade you.” Ben relented with a smirk. “Naked.”

You stood up, the back of your legs pushing your chair behind you. “Okay, thank you both very much for your insight, but I’m gonna go.”

You refused to admit that you were currently picturing Eddie as Ben had portrayed him. His guitar would rest on his bare thighs, his chest on full display. That beautiful body that drew your lips to each inch of skin, no matter if tattooed or unmarked.

“You know you love us,” Nora trilled.

And you did. They only wanted what was best for you. Yes, you would love to lose yourself in daydreams of Eddie Munson, his strong arms wrapped around you, his tongue hungrily exploring your body. Yes, your stomach fluttered each time he smiled at you, called you beautiful, or took your hand in his. But was that worth lying to your parents about yet another part of your life?

The question branded you with a headache, one that sat right behind your eyes and thudded against your skull with each step back home. You did everything you could to focus on the pain instead of its cause.

By now, you were well-acquainted with Eddie’s schedule, which meant you were able to meet him outside the subway station before he returned to the motel. You’d had a moment of panic that morning just as you drifted off to sleep: your parents would immediately be suspicious if they saw the two of you leaving together, especially in your current outfit. Nora had dropped off a floral sundress, the tag still on it, and quietly proclaimed that Eddie wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you in it. It wasn’t until later that you noticed the back of the tag where she’d scrawled ‘happy boning!’ in tiny letters.

There certainly wouldn’t be any boning; not in the middle of the park. That was too far out of your comfortable zone, even if you weren’t trying to hide your relationship.

“I’m hanging out with Nora,” you told Dad before he even looked up from reading the newspaper. “Be back later.”

Your sandals thwacked against the pavement as you hurried out the door, not even pausing to hear if Dad had responded.

You nearly collided with Eddie halfway down the block. He held his guitar case in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other. His focused expression shifted to one of excitement when he saw you.

“Didn’t expect to bump into you here.” He lifted the guitar slightly. “Let me just put this back in my room so I’m not lugging it all over Queens.”

Eddie started back towards the motel, pausing when he realized you weren’t following him.

“You comin’?”

You shook your head. Dad might not have noticed you leaving in your new dress, but he would definitely notice you going back and forth with Eddie Munson in tow.

“I’ll wait right here.” You tried peeking into the bag as he walked away, but he tugged it back and out of your sight. “What’s in there?”

His eyes lit up. “Patience is a virtue, dear Heiress,” he drawled. He leaned in to plant a dramatic kiss on your forehead before rushing towards the motel’s front door.

The spot where he’d laid his lips still tingled for a moment after he left. If you could work up the nerve, if your head and your heart could cooperate, you would pull him in for the longest kiss of his life. But doubt creeped in before even he returned. If someone saw you…if Mom or Dad took a look around the door to see where Eddie was going…if a guest got an eyeful and made a comment about it to them…

“Okay, I’m back.” Eddie grinned, grabbing your hand with his empty one. “Your dad tried to pull me into a conversation about the Mets. I had to break the devastating news that I’m not a sports guy.” He laughed and adjusted his hand to better grasp yours.

You barely registered the movement. “Did you tell him where you—we—were going?” If Eddie told Dad about the date…

Eddie shook his head. “Nah, just said I had to run.” His nose wrinkled in confusion. “Why? Are we not supposed to be going to the park or something?”

How could you explain it to him without hurting his feelings? ‘We can’t be seen together’ might be true, but far too harsh. Nor did you want to embroil yourself in another lie. You mulled over your words for a few seconds before speaking.

“I just don’t want them asking a bunch of questions that even we don’t know the answers to.”

That was honest enough, you supposed. This was only your second date; far too early for any serious ‘what are your intentions with my daughter?’ speeches even under normal circumstances. The fact that Mom had explicitly warned you against dating guests would remain omitted for now.

He nodded in agreement, and your chest sagged with relief that he didn’t push the topic further. Instead, you enveloped yourself in the temporary safety that came with holding Eddie’s hand. The way his calloused palm pressed to yours, his grip tight yet without unwarranted possessiveness. Each brush of his thumb stoked the fire steadily building within you.

You once again tried to steal a glimpse of the surprise inside the bag once you found seats on the bus, but Eddie remained steadfast in his decision to keep it out of your view.

“It’s a surprise,” he practically whined, pouting to make you laugh. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic on a budget. Cut me a break here.”

“Fine.” But the moment he let his guard down, you swiped at the bag. Eddie was stealthier than you gave him credit for, and he held it shut between his legs. “Eddie!”

Eddie placed his hands on your cheeks, trapping you in place. “Don’t…ruin…the…surprise.” He kissed you between each word, little pecks on the lips that became increasingly more difficult to land as you both smiled. “You really are impossible.”

You begrudgingly relented, resting your head on his shoulder for the remainder of the bus ride. He shifted his stance every so often to purse his lips and kiss your forehead. You let out a contented sigh, the tension in your body fleeing with each gentle touch.

Flushing Meadows Park was relatively quiet when you and Eddie arrive. Kids were still in school until the end of the month, and nine-to-fivers were still at work. Besides you two, there were only an assortment of joggers, a few bird-watching retirees, and some particularly rowdy squirrels

Eddie led you to a shaded spot beneath the branches of an old oak tree. He dug into his bag and pulled out a cloth, spreading it out on the overgrown grass. The fabric and color looked awfully familiar. It was almost as if…

“Is that your bedsheet?”

Eddie grinned sheepishly. “I couldn’t let you sit right on the grass. Besides,” he added, tone heavy with mischief, “it gives us another excuse to do laundry together.”

“We’re lucky we didn’t get caught the first time,” you muttered. But you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be pressed up against him, to feel him stiffen beneath his jeans as his tongue explored your mouth.

He laughed as you both sat down, a melody if you’d ever heard one. He continued unpacking, placing foil-wrapped sandwiches, a small plastic container of pre-cut melon, and a bag of store-brand chocolate chip cookies onto the sheet. The last thing he dug out was two glass bottles of Yoo-Hoo chocolate milk, handing it directly to you. It was still relatively cold, a miracle in the early summer humidity.

“Only the finest cuisine for my date.” He unscrewed the bottle cap and waited for you to do the same. He raised the bottle, clinking it against yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you echoed, taking a swig. You hadn’t had chocolate milk since you were a kid, and it was all at once nostalgic and too sugary, but you couldn’t get enough.

Eddie’s eyes rake over you, pupils fixated on the neckline of your sundress. His tongue darted out to lick up a droplet of milk that was caught in the corner of his mouth. “You look beautiful. You are beautiful,” he amended. One hand found your knee, and he rested it where the dress’s cotton fabric met your skin.

It had been a while since a man had called you beautiful, save for the cat-callers who pressed their luck from where they leaned against buildings and worked at construction sites. The compliment sent warmth surging through you, your head so airy that you hardly register the smile blooming on your face.

How would he react if you just leaned in and kissed him, mouths crashing together in a hunger that would remain forever unsatisfied? What would he do if you straddled his waist and let the hem of your dress cover the fly of his jeans?

You swallowed the thought, tempering the heat that fluttered in your core as you unwrapped one of the sandwiches. The cheese had cooled but was still melted, and a few strips of bacon peeked out from the sides of the roll. Your mouth watered just looking at it.

Eddie tucked into his own identical sandwich, a groan tumbling from his lips as he savored the taste. “I will never understand how those tiny corner stores make the best food. Like, better than all of those fancy-ass restaurants I went to for dinners with execs.”

“Those ‘corner stores’ are called ‘bodegas,’” you corrected through a cheesy mouthful. “If you’re gonna stick around, you’ve gotta start talking like a New Yorker.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie raised his brows, one corner of his mouth turning up in a knowing grin. “I gotta start tawk-ing like a New Yawk-er?”

“I don’t sound like that!”

He ignored you, continuing to massacre the stereotypical New York City accent. “Maybe on our next date, we can grab some caw-fee and go for a waw-k around the pah-k.”

“First of all, you pronounced ‘park’ like a Bostonian, which is a cardinal sin around here. Second, there won’t be another date if you keep making fun of me.”

“My apologies, Heiress.” Eddie placed his hand on his chest, and you immediately felt its absence from your leg. “I’ll be sure to more accurately mock you in the future.”

He was insufferable in the most endearing way. You took his hand, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles, and brought it back to where it was. He gave your thigh a small squeeze; not inherently sexual, but made your pulse quicken all the same.

You retrieved your breath from where it had hitched in your throat and opened the plastic container of melon. With delicate fingers as to not touch every piece, you plucked a cantaloupe cube from the pile and took a bite. The juice trickled down your chin; you cupped your hand beneath it to catch the droplets before they stained the bed sheet.

Eddie, meanwhile, kept his gaze plastered to how your lips wrapped around the fruit. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly and he coughed as though snapping himself out of a daze.

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” He managed a smile and popped a piece of melon in his mouth, chewing if only to keep himself busy until he could concentrate on something besides your parted lips. “Peachy keen.” With another slight twitch of his mouth, let out a cough.

It dawned on you, then, that he was losing control, and that you were the cause. If you indulged him in his desire–desire that you admittedly shared–you’d soon find yourselves pawing at each other on an old bed sheet in the middle of a public park.

You couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t let desperation get the best of you. You knew better.

Instead, you surveyed your surroundings for any other conversation topic. Grass, blooming flowers, the ants parading towards a puddle of spilled soda.

You took another swig of chocolate milk, hoping it would cool you from the inside out. “Yoo-Hoo was an interesting drink choice.” The words were strangled, forced, too abrupt.

Eddie knew it, too, but he played along. Perhaps more for his sake than yours, but he still loosened a chuckle. “Yeah, I saw them at the cor—bodega, and it reminded me of when I was a kid.” Fiddling with the discarded sandwich wrapper, he continued. “My uncle would buy one on every payday. A Yoo-Hoo for me and a lotto scratcher for himself.”

“Did you get more Yoo-Hoo if he won anything?”

“Nah.” He crumpled the sandwich foil into a ball. “That went towards bills.”

Right. Eddie had told you that he grew up in poverty, sharing a tiny trailer with his uncle. Any extra money wasn’t really extra at all.

You knew the feeling. How many times had you found loose change on the ground or a dropped dollar at the subway token booth and slipped it into the motel’s register?

“How did he feel about you pursuing music?” You were back on the right track, retreating into topics as far away from sex as possible.

Eddie shrugged, his shoulders holding a story that he wasn’t ready to tell. “He wasn’t thrilled. Wanted me to have something steady, something I could count on.” So I didn’t end up bartering to stay in a shitty Queens motel remained unspoken. “But he was the one who bought me my first guitar, so it’s partially his fault.”

There was that smirk, the one that turned your knees into jelly. God, to be on your knees for him, to taste what lay behind that godforsaken zipper–

You scrambled to patch up the cracks that might allow desperation to seep through. “Did you always want to be a musician?”

“Pretty much. I mean, when I was really young, I wanted to be a dinosaur.”

You burst out into laughter, slapping your hand across your mouth to contain it all. Out of all of the things he could have said, ‘I wanted to be a dinosaur’ was nowhere near your list of possibilities. “A…dinosaur?”

“Yup. A triceratops, to be exact.”

“Mhm.” What was going on? How did we get here? You chalked it up to being a blessing in disguise, a definite pivot from your racy thoughts. “Any particular reason?”

Did you want to know?

“The horns seemed cool. And good for impaling.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth and stifled a laugh, trying to keep a serious face. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“Yeah, I was real bummed when I found out they were already extinct.” He pursed his lips and tilted his head towards you, breaking out into a smile. “So, any updates on social work school?”

You almost shook your head before you remembered. “There’s this event they’re doing where admitted students get to tour the campus, meet each other, talk to advisors...”

“You gonna go?”

“I probably should.” It would be a great opportunity for you to get your bearings and register for classes. “Are you busy next Friday?”

“Next Friday? Let me check my schedule.” Eddie feigned contemplation for a beat, then looked at you with a smile that flipped your stomach. “Free as a bird. Why, does the Heiress need to be accompanied to her Smart People Gathering?”

You stuck out your tongue in mock annoyance. Eddie grabbed it by the tip, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re a brat.”

His eyes bore into yours, holding your gaze even as he let go. He’d set the challenge: You make him beg to tag along, or you back down and admit that you wanted him to join you.

You chose the former.

“I mean, I can take Nora if you’re busy. Or Ben.”

Jealousy flashed across Eddie’s face at your flippant reply. Did you have to add Ben? Probably not. Was it fun to watch Eddie squirm? Absolutely.

“I’ll take you.” He didn’t need to say it; not when his brief scowl already proclaimed that you won.

Grinning, you kissed his cheek triumphantly. “Great.” You wiped at where your lipstick had left a smudge. “But the next time you grab my tongue, I’ll bite you.”

Without missing a beat, he growled, “Maybe I want you to.”

You couldn’t temper your reaction, not with his voice reaching a bass note that signaled that his desire was just as strong as yours. Without warning, you anchored yourself in his lap, legs on either side of his, and let your teeth graze the skin above his collarbone. You bit down just enough to make him utter a tiny yelp.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass as he pulled you forward, your core now directly atop his. Instinct kicked in and your hips moved of their own accord, your cotton panties dragging over his fly, already wet just from your proximity to him.

Teeth clicked and tongues found one another, the kiss somehow sloppier and more ravenous than the tipsy one you’d shared a few nights earlier. You grabbed hold of his t-shirt, the fabric bunching in your shaking palms as you brought him closer, closer, still never close enough…

Eddie nipped at your lower lip, one palm sliding up to cup your cheek. His touch teetered between a timid ‘you’re mine?’ and a possessive ‘you’re mine,’ opposing sides in a battle to claim and be claimed. His own hips hedged upwards, the friction equal parts tantalizing and torturous.

God, you wanted him. You wanted him to flip you over and pin you down, hands grasping your wrists hard enough to leave a bruise. You wanted to remember that he was there, that he was on you, with you. You wanted to stare at those marks from the privacy of your own room and recount how he’d taken you in public.

And then you heard it–your name. Not ‘Heiress,’ nor did it come from Eddie’s kiss-swollen lips. The voice was feminine and familiar.

You broke the kiss, your blood running ice cold as you swiveled around to see Aunt Tam and Uncle Mo standing before you. Aunt Tam’s brows were raised in a combination of disappointment and disbelief; Uncle Mo’s cheeks were splotched pink in pure embarrassment–a feeling you knew all too well.

You froze, your fingers now tangled in Eddie’s frizzy curls as reality sunk in, squashing down most of the lust connecting you to him. You’d been spotted dry humping Eddie in the middle of the park by your parents’ best friends. People who’d known you since you were born.

Too quickly, you removed yourself from Eddie’s lap and smoothed out the hem of your sundress, as though your aunt and uncle would forget what they’d just witnessed if it wasn’t happening anymore.

This was bad. Worse than bad; this was humiliating. You wanted to beg them not to tell your parents, a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, but the words clung to your throat. Instead, and much more shamefully, tears ran down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, we just–we got carried away, we shouldn’t have–I’m so sorry, please don’t say anything to my parents–”

Damn it. Damn it all to hell. Why couldn’t you just keep yourself in control?

Aunt Tam cleared her throat, shaking herself from surprise. “No, I’m sorry for interrupting. I just wasn’t expecting to see, um, that.” The coloring of her cheeks now matched her husband’s as they hurried away, unable to leave fast enough. “Enjoy your picnic. Good to, uh, see you both.”

Everything was suddenly too much. The sun was too bright, the birds were chirping too loudly, the grass beneath the sheet was too sharp.

You scrambled to clean up the remaining food, all of which now looked as appetizing as a pile of mud. You couldn’t even look at Eddie when you spoke. “We should go home.”

“Heiress, it’s fine. Calm down–”

“I can’t calm down!” Too snappy, too harsh, but you no longer had the capacity to care. “My parents will kill me if they find out we were together.”

Confusion knitted Eddie’s brows together. “You’re a grown adult. And it’s not like we were naked and getting arrested for public indecency.”

His lack of understanding only strengthened your frustration. “No, I–it’s just not a good look for me to be fooling around with a guest.”

There was no mistaking the hurt in Eddie’s scoff. “I mean, we’re on a date…and we’re kinda a…a thing, right?” He chewed on his lower lip, and you felt a wall come up, that same barrier he’d erected when you’d all but accused him of vandalizing Eisen’s. “I didn’t realize I was just a guest.”

“Yeah, no–I mean, we are a thing,” you rushed to explain, “and you’re not just a guest to me, but you technically are still a guest.”

“Right.” Eddie stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I get it. Yeah. I just thought…never mind.” He blew out a breath and stooped down to help you clean up.

You forced yourself to speak again, terrified that you’d shatter this already fragile moment. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice so low that you weren’t sure he’d even hear it.

“S’okay.”

But it wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t okay even when he reached back and laced his fingers with yours. It was no longer an act of affection, but one of needed reassurance. And it didn’t fix the gaping chasm; you weren’t sure how to fix it, or if it could be fixed at all.

It was a Band-Aid on a bullet wound, and time was ticking until it bled out.

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#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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fug0th · 3 months

Text

We're back boys! Another day another Epithet Erased cosplay

youtube

After 2 years I decided to remake my yoomtah cosplay! This outfit took a little over 4 month and 140 hours of work.

I had some fun with this outfit, as always I wanted to make it different. This time I wanted to make it so it could change colors and glow, so I had some fun with uv glow and LEDs. I soldered LEDs into the cheeks, wig, belt, back of the neck, and boots. To get the trim to glow I used neon wig weft, a florescent protein dye, and painted details with uv glow paint.

I also had fun adding details that are only visible in black light, including on the back of the suit. I wanted to add in some cuttlefish like elements so I added yoomtahs cheek marks onto her back as well.

I had a lot of fun adding in details, for instance using devore on the black strips to chemically burn designs into them. I also had fun hand embroidering the collar

The collar does glow

Something that was really important to me when making this outfit was making the cybernetic arms and legs. Using Eva foam, foam clay, and fabric I was able to make arms and legs that looked metallic while staying mobile

I also made the buttons for the suit from scratch using a type of glassblowing called lampworking. I've used lampworking in some other outfits, notably naven

Anyways thank you so much for reading!

#yoomtah zing #ee yoomtah #epithet erased yoomtah #epithet erased #epithet erased cosplay #anime campaign cosplay #Youtube

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witchywithwhiskey · 5 months

Note

nick fowler + "no more, please, I can't"

optional scenario: the rites of spring

a delicious end to a delightful spring day

pairing: ceo!fiancé!nick fowler x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (m receiving), brief/referenced piv sex, lingerie, strip tease, light bdsm, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (prințesa), tiny bit of bratting, mostly just nick spoiling his prințesa—and her showing him how much she appreciates him

word count: 1,700ish

a/n: ahh thank you for sending in something for Nick, Aspen, you were the only one!! also i feel a little bad that i keep ignoring your optional additions but i did it again 🙈 but i think you'll like CEO fiancé Nick Fowler, he's very dreamy 😏 anyway, hope you enjoy!!! ♡♡♡

“No more, please, I can’t,” you whined, digging in your heels on the sidewalk of New York City, dragging your fiancé Nick Fowler to a stop outside yet another boutique clothing store. He turned to you, settling his hands on your waist and gathering you up against his broad chest while he smiled down at you indulgently.

A lovely spring breeze was blowing through the cherry blossom trees that lined the elegant street of the Upper West Side, but your feet were aching from walking so much during the shopping trip Nick had insisted on—he’d wanted to spoil you rotten, as he’d said. But Nick’s Bentley was already stuffed full of bags filled with all kinds of clothes he’d purchased for you, and you wanted to be done.

So you pouted up at your fiancé, your fingers twisting in the soft cashmere of his sweater. “Can we go home, sir?” you asked sweetly, trying to keep the whine out of your voice and failing miserably.

Nick chuckled a little at your tone, then ducked down and pressed a firm kiss to your pouting lips. The gesture was enough to make you smile, and his words made you sigh with relief when he said, “Just one more stop, prințesa, then we’ll go home.”

Your fiancé waited for you to nod before lacing his fingers with yours and towing you into the clothing store, which you discovered specialized in extremely expensive lingerie. All of the pieces looked like works of art, shaped from lace and ribbon and silk. You could hardly imagine owning any of the matching sets, let alone more than one.

But Nick wasn’t just one of the top CEOs in New York City—he was renowned across the globe for his business acumen and was one of the richest men in the country. So it was of little consequence to him to hand over his black Amex in exchange for a half dozen of the shop’s matching sets, all of them in your favorite colors.

You were a little dazed—part from shock and part from exhaustion—so you didn’t protest when one of the saleswomen stole you away from Nick while he was paying the bill. She led you into the changing room where the prettiest pink lacy bustier you’d ever seen, along with a matching thong, were hung up for you.

The saleswoman relayed instructions from Nick that he wanted you to change into the lingerie and put your clothes back on before meeting him outside. As quickly as you could manage, you did as she said, then walked quickly to the front of the store, eager for the shopping trip to be over.

Nick stood on the sidewalk, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he waited for you, the bags from the shop already loaded into his Bentley, which was parked nearby. You stood and appreciated his handsomeness for a moment, the rugged cut of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the bright blue of his eyes.

But then he caught sight of you, and you were stunned all over again by the sheer amount of love and adoration that emanated from the powerful businessman when he looked at you. It made your heart soar in your chest and a giddy smile spread across your face.

“Ready to go, prințesa?” Nick asked, reaching his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it.

“Yes, sir,” you chirped, the tiredness and brattiness you’d felt dissolving as you skipped to him, lacing your fingers with his. You pushed up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Nick’s scruffy cheek, murmuring, “Thank you for everything today,” as you pulled away.

“Do you like your final gift, prințesa?” Nick asked, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

His question made you very aware of the wires and lace of the lingerie pressing into your skin beneath your simple sundress, the bustier pushing up your tits and the thong revealing so much, you could feel the cool spring breeze on your bare ass beneath your skirt. It felt sinful to be wearing such decadent lingerie beneath your clothes, and you couldn’t help but smile up at your fiancé.

“I love it, sir,” you purred, holding onto Nick’s hand and wrapping yourself around his arm as he walked you to the car. Your body warmed as you pressed against his muscled bicep, wanting to rub yourself against your fiancé but knowing the sidewalk in New York City was neither the time nor the place.

“Good,” Nick said, flashing you a grin. You’d arrived at his Bentley, and he opened the passenger door for you, helping you into the seat. It wasn’t until he was settled in the driver’s side, his hand tangling with yours again and holding it in his lap, that he went on. “You’re going to show me how much you appreciate all your gifts once we get home, aren’t you, prințesa?”

A coil of heat bloomed between your thighs at the innuendo in your fiancé’s tone and you squirmed a little in your seat, murmuring, “Yes, sir,” as ideas about how you could show your appreciation spun through your mind. Suddenly, you were even more eager to get home.

Thankfully, the drive outside of the city and into the lush countryside where Nick’s manor was located wasn’t too long, and it was enjoyable. The day was warm enough to put the windows down, and you were so content, you nearly fell asleep in the passenger seat.

However, you were anything but tired when you made it inside the manor and stood just inside the door of the bedroom you shared with your fiancé. Your heart raced with excitement as you slowly stripped off your dress to reveal the pretty pink matching set beneath, making a show of peeling the clothing off your body.

Nick sat reclined in a club chair in the small seating area in the massive bedroom, his head tilted back and his eyelids heavy as he watched you with intense focus. You could feel the heat of his gaze as it drifted down your body, teasing you without touching you.

Stifling a shiver of desire, you dropped your dress onto the carpeted floor, leaving you in only your lingerie and heels. You stood before your fiancé, confident in the knowledge that he loved looking at your body wrapped in lace, and wanting to give him the pleasure of looking at you.

“Give me a spin, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, his voice gruff with arousal. Already, you could see the bulge of his cock in the front of his slacks.

You smirked as you twirled slowly, popping your hips out to make your ass bounce in a way you knew he liked. By the time you’d turned back around to face your fiancé, his blue eyes were dark with the promise of sin.

“C’mere,” he murmured, crooking a finger at you.

Anyone else might think he expected you to walk to him, but you knew your soon-to-be husband’s tastes. So instead of stepping toward him, you lowered yourself to your knees, watching as Nick’s face went slack with lust. Pressing your hands to the carpet, you crawled slowly to your fiancé. You smiled as you felt your hips swaying side to side, loving the way Nick’s eyes seemed glued to your plush ass.

You crawled between Nick’s spread thighs and rubbed your cheek against the bulge in his slacks, looking up at your man from under your lashes.

“May I show you how much I appreciate everything you got me today, sir?” you asked in a pouty little voice, biting back a smile when Nick’s cock twitched against your cheek. You pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his length through his pants while you waited for his permission.

“Go ahead, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, smoothing his hand over your hair and resting his palm heavily against the crown of your head. His expression was intent with desire as he looked down at you on your knees between his legs.

Eagerly, you unbuttoned and unzipped Nick’s slacks, pulling out his cock and wasting no time before you peppered the stiff length of him in kisses. You delighted in the feeling of him against your lips, the velvety softness of his skin, and the unyielding hardness beneath. Running your tongue up the underside of his cock, you lavished Nick’s cock with your attention until the tip was weeping precum.

“Good girl, prințesa,” Nick rumbled, petting your head affectionately as you worshipped his cock. “Such a good girl—” he cut himself off in a grunt of pleasure when you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick and licked up his creamy precum. “Mm, I can feel how appreciative you are for all your pretty new clothes.”

Sucking on the head of Nick’s cock, you pulled off until your lips were pressed against the tip and gently spit onto him, letting it roll down his hard length. Looking up at your fiance, you watched his eyes darken even further as you used your drool to get his cock nice and wet.

“Yes, sir,” you murmured breathily, answering his question while you stroked him with your fingers. “I appreciate the springtime shopping trip sooo much.” You shot a wicked grin at Nick, then wrapped your lips around his cock and truly set to work.

You sucked Nick’s cock with abandon, bobbing up and down on his length and kissing every inch of his balls, making him grunt and groan from all pleasure you gave him. For a long while, you drew it out, wanting to show Nick exactly how much you loved and appreciated everything he did for you, and he let you, petting your head and murmuring soft words of praise that only made you want to give him even greater pleasure.

Eventually, though, Nick decided you’d appreciated him enough. He hauled you up into the chair where he sat, pushed your thong aside and slid into your tight, exquisite heat. For the rest of the night, both you and your fiancé showed each other how much you loved and appreciated one another. It was a delicious end to a delightful spring day.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #nick fowler #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler smut #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #buckets-and-trees

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show-your-fangs · 11 months

Note

make a wish, huh? i wish i wish with all my heart for reader to have pissed off her daddy dom in the field. so as a punishment she has to sit on this big man’s shoe while he does paperwork. cockwarming him with her mouth until he decides no matter how bad she’s whining and needing him, that she can rock and get herself off. but only if she listens to him. if not? if she’s a brat and she’s being really really needy?? i do believe that causes for a spanking, don’t you? over his knee, skirt rolled up.. you know. just a wish 😈🙏🏻

Knees | Dom!Aaron Hotchner

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Blurb

Pairing: Dom!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/sub!Reader

Words: 2k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, bunny!reader, established D/s relationship, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), pet names (bunny).

a/n: when Morgan asks for something, you give it to her.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

You swallowed and his entire body tensed up under you. He hissed in disapproval, his darkened gaze almost searing a hole through yours. You couldn’t help it, saliva had been pooling in the corners of your mouth for a few minutes and it was either swallow or let it drip down your throat. And let’s be honest, the latter did not sound as naughty as the former. You knew how he’d react, knew that his cock would twitch at the slight change in pressure, knew that he would know what you were doing.

You didn’t let his stare scare you. Instead, you returned your own — round, innocent eyes that glistened with tears. It wasn’t that he was hurting you, on the contrary, he was giving you something that you craved yet it was a punishment that he knew was sure to make you lose your mind. His cock in your mouth, warm and heavy on your tongue, thick and hard against your throat. Unmoving, still, agonizing.

He’d asked you into his office the second the last agent had left for the night. You knew what it was about, knew what awaited you the second he locked the doors and closed the blinds. And fortunately for you, it had not been the professional reprimand that you’d thought.

Unfortunately for you, he had made you strip completely, only allowing you to keep your panties. The cold air made your nipples hard and your skin erupt in goosebumps. He led you down on your knees, your pussy landing on his expensive leather shoe. He was calm and collected as he rolled his desk chair further into his desk, caging you against the wood at your back and his wood at your front.

“Open,” he commanded, and fearing any more repercussions after your major, his words, mild, your words, fuck up in the field, you eagerly did as he asked. A hint of a smile graced his lips as he watched you, an overwhelming sense of pride and satisfaction burning through his body as he unbuckled his belt. It was painfully slow and you were overly eager as you realized what he was commanding you to do. You were about to reach out to help him speed along the process when his eyes darkened in warning, your hands immediately falling against your sides.

“Color?” he asked, a hint of cockiness in his voice startled you.

“Green, sir,” you replied, the implications of your consent not yet clear.

“Good,” with that he sprung his cock free from his underwear. He was already semi hard, the tip glistened with pre cum and you couldn’t help but salivate at the excitement. “This is not a treat, bunny,” your eyes met his again before he continued. “You are going to take me in your mouth but you may not make me cum, am I understood?”

Oh no. Aaron knew how much you loved to give him head, how you reveled in watching him come undone by your skilled tongue. It was one of the first things he’d learned about you, one of the things he couldn’t believe you liked doing. Which is why he knew that every fiber in your body would light up in protest. You wanted to scream, argue, throw a tantrum — but you didn’t. Instead you simply nodded solemnly. You had done this to yourself and there was no one else to blame.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised and the excitement in your lower belly went up in flames again. “You will be a perfect, still angel until I finish my paperwork, and then we’ll see if you’ve earned the right to get yourself off on my shoe.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And with that he rolled his chair all the way into his desk, one hand around his cock, the other grabbing your chin and pulling you where he wanted you. The movement made your pussy graze against his rough laces and you had to stop yourself from moaning. You could already feel your wetness start to pool and he’d literally done nothing yet. His fingers pressed against your cheeks and your mouth opened on its own, wide and eager, as he placed a third of his length on your tongue.

You could’ve started crying right then and there, but you didn’t. You would not let him break you that easily.

“Do you remember how to safe word, bunny?” He asked, he always asked.

You nodded, making your tongue rub against the underside of his length. You tapped his leg once. Yes. “How do you tap out?”

You tapped his leg twice and he rewarded you by patting your cheek, gently at first, but then his pats turned into soft smacks, right against the tip of his cock inside your mouth. He groaned loudly, the sounds slowly making you lose all sense of self as you felt him twitch inside your mouth.

“Fuck, bunny,” he moaned. “This is going to be a long night.”

And long it was. You had lost track of time. At first you decided to count the seconds, minutes, hours, whatever to distract yourself from moving, from what you actually wanted to do. But it was impossible. Your arms had wrapped around his leg to hold yourself steady, your legs had started to wobble and so you’d given up and fully sat yourself down on his shoe.

You were gone, your brain wasn’t working anymore. All you could think about was the weight of his cock in your mouth and how much you wanted to move. Move your tongue, move your head, move your hands to wrap around his base, move your hips to give yourself some kind of relief.

You swallowed again, this time accidentally, and because of your miscalculation, your flat tongue grazed against his length, making you roll your eyes back in euphoria. You didn’t register as your hips started moving, as your pussy made contact with the rough, uneven surface of his laces, as your wetness drenched his shoe. Your clit grazed against a buckle and you moaned, loudly. That was the final straw.

Without a word of warning he rolled his chair out, his hands quickly grabbing you under your armpits and effortlessly lifting you from under the desk. Your mind snapped back to reality in an instant. Glazed eyes turned sharp, numbness turned responsive, daze turned into realization. You were about to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to let the tears fall when he sat you down on his lap, your legs on either side of his own.

“Sir—”

His palm landed with a smack on your ass, the sting making you whimper. You had learned early on that there were times when he was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize his commands. Instead, he’d gotten into the habit of turning them into action. A single spank was a warning to be quiet, to save whatever groveling — he wasn’t going to listen to it.

“When I give you a command, I expect you to follow it,” he said, anger lacing every word.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, your head hanging low avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t mean it—”

That made him snap, his right hand landing another smack against your reddening ass as his left tightly grasped your jaw, pulling your head up to face him.

“Like you didn’t mean to go into that apartment without backup?”

He was concerned, so much in fact that it was the easiest you’d ever been able to read him. You knew he’d been concerned for you. As your boss, you knew he cared for you. But as your Dom…that was a whole different story. You’d done your best to compartmentalize, to trust the other in your skills and training, to accept that you would both be put in scary situations when out in the field. But right then and there, you knew, you saw. He was terrified.

“Yes,” you breathed, the heavy understanding of your punishment washing over you like ice cold water. “It will not happen again. Sir.”

His eyes bore into yours, searching, but you knew what he would find. You cared too. It wasn’t like you had planned on going in without backup, it was that you both understood that the job came first, that whatever instinct made you follow through, no matter how reckless, had probably been for the best of the case. And as much as you both knew, if it made him feel more comfortable to remind you to be careful in this way, you would let him do it every single time.

“Good girl,” he praised, his lips hovering over yours teasingly. “I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

You nodded rapidly, making him smirk. You reveled in it, in his smile, in the warmth that was seeing him experience happiness in whatever form it might take. He gently guided you back to your knees in front of his chair and your eyes lit up.

“Make me cum, bunny,” he sat back down, legs spread open like inviting you to a buffet, chest rising and falling, his white button up straining with each breath.

You wasted no time getting to work, your hands quickly wrapping themselves around the base of his cock. He was still a little slick from your saliva, but it wasn’t enough, so you reached one hand down your panties, fingers eagerly collecting your slick before you slathered it all over his rock hard erection.

“Jesus Christ, bunny,” he groaned as your hands started to move up and down his shaft. Moves calculated, perfectly pressured, expertly avoiding his needy tip. Pre cum started to leak once more and that’s when you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your tongue darted out on its own volition, eagerly rolling around his tip, hungrily drinking him all in. He moaned loudly, his hand wrapping around your hair and pushing you further down against his length.

You let him, flattening your tongue and opening your throat as you swallowed more and more of his length into your mouth. He stopped at your hand, letting you work your magic then. You wanted him to cum, needed to feel his spend down your throat. Your hands sped up their movements, meeting your mouth sloppily as you bobbed your head up and down to meet them at the base. You continued to roll your tongue around his length as you sucked in your cheeks, tightening around his cock. You could feel him tense, his moans becoming louder and louder, his breathing uneven, his heartbeat aggressive.

“I’m close—” he didn’t even manage to finish his sentence as you removed your hands and took him the rest of the way down your throat. His chest erupted in an animalistic groan as the tension snapped and he spilled down your throat. You moaned at the feeling, at the power that you had over this beautiful man in front of you. As much as you wanted relief of your own, there was nothing more satisfying than having him spill down your throat, than having him come undone by your tongue. The tears finally spilled as you kept him there, patiently waiting for him to finish before you pulled yourself off him. Your eyes locked onto his as you swallowed, making a show of it.

You were both breathing rapidly, both stuck in a pocket of time where nothing else but the two of you existed, both completely satisfied in your own ways. He ran his hand over his face then, breaking the spell, knowing that if he stayed any longer, he’d say something he’d regret. Instead he took in a sharp breath and placed himself back into his pants before he reached out to help you to your feet. He led you back on his lap and this time he cradled you, warm hands running all over your cold body. You hummed against his chest, your own hands tightly grabbing a hold of his suit jacket.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Yes, Master.”

idk if i'm "back" yet, but here's my offering to you on this saturday. but mostly bc i wanted to fuck with morgan while she's busy and can't do anything about it.

tags: @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @callm3c0nfus3d, @xladyxdreamer, @gr3enflowers, @lilyviolets, @howabouticallyou, @shadowmemory, @simp4f1, @honeylovemoon, @powerlvr25, @formulapierre, @spenciesprincess, @extra-trash77 (if i missed anyone please let me know!)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde #aaron hotchner #dom hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #dom!hotch #sugar daddy!hotch #bau!reader #cam girl!reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x you #hotch x reader #show your fangs writes #show your fangs asks #show your fangs blurbs

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glowcircuit · 5 months

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I built a miniature Va11 Hall-A Bar inside of my PC!!

Va11 Hall-A PC Parts & Build list

PC:

CPU : Intel I9 14900k

GPU: Intel Arc A770 16gb

Ram: Corsair Dominator 64gb 5600

Mobo: Maxsun Terminator Z790 D5 wifi

Hard drives M.2: Samsung 990 pro 2tb, Samsung 970 evo plus 1tb, CT 1tb, Adata 500gb

PSU: ROG Thor 850 P2

Cables: Cablemod.com custom shortened and sleeved

Water loop distro : EKWB FLT 120 reservoir + D5 pump

Water loop cpu block: ThermalTake Pacific Mx2 Ultra

Water loop radiators: Alphacool HPE 20 x 2

Water loop hardware: 15 Alphacool, 3 EKWB, 2 Alphacool soft, 2 granzon

Water loop tubes: EKWB Acrylic tube 14mm, Alphacool 13/10 soft

Air Cooling : ThermalTake Toughfan 120mm x 3 + Controller

Air Cooling : Noctua 40mm pwm server fan x 2 (non visible)

Additional RGB Control : Coolermaster controller

Case:

Lian Li PC V600, left side mount, released in 2006, I acquired it in 2015 from PC Recycle in sodo Seattle.

I had to track down a new foot, one had been missing since I acquired the case (ebay)

Mods:These are the case mods I did personally

Cut a hole for the cpu mounts in the Motherboard mount plate as this case was designed for older hardware

Cut two 120mm blowholes and added aluminum covers (Dremel)

Cut Front and rear windows into side panels (Dremel Max)

Moved PSU from vertical placement in the lower right side of the case in front of the CPU to horizontal placement in the top left in old drive bays.

The PSU bracket had to be cut to show the OLED on the side.

Modded the side panel rail slide to accommodate the PSU, I used the original aluminum stand the psu was on, cut in half and epoxied with JB weld.

Changed and moved Power/ Reset switch to the back of the case, shortened and spliced the cable

I cut and bent my own 14mm acrylic tubes (hobby miter, heat gun).

Cut and made two way mirror for the front panel

Plastic "truss" is both functional and aesthetic. It came from a Gunpla accessory kit and has two cables passing through it and it acts as the GPU support. I could only get red and had to paint it.

Notice that some logos are missing/ covered, I dislike having a case as an advertisement. The Rog eye on the PSU is mostly covered but iykyk, most of the word "Intel" on the ARC GPU, Two of the Thermaltake logos on the fan edges, the Paint on the Thermaltake Mx2 Ultra and Maxsun terminator heatsink. (I will eventually cover the visible SSD with a heat sink, cover the fan info on the rear and work a cover for the word "dominator"). the one logo explicitly unchanged is the LianLi case badge, if I think of a perfect replacement, maybe then.

Mod I did not do:

I did NOT shorten and sleeve my own cables, I used cable-mod.com. I am not confident in my ability to do this.

BAR:

"Bar Tiny" Re-ment sets from Japan, 17 sets involved.

I customized the color of the bar and chairs and shortened one table for the mezzanine. The whole bar, minus barback- is on a removable 7 inch piece of black acrylic for cleaning.

Jill Stingray Nendoroid

Jils Cat, it sleeps on the GPU

Jill Stool: Jill is glued to a cute doll stool to see over the bar

Jill Accessories non-Nendoroid: cellphone, purse, coat (ebay)

Dorothy Haze Nendoroid

will be added on release.

Bar Back:I made this myself

Black acrylic sheet, and frosted acrylic rods.

Doll Light power kit: 8 Led lights, 4 incandescent lights

USB Doll light power strip

Other Bar Accessories:

Overhead Hanging farmhouse light

trash, mop, broom, pan, mop bucket,

2 blue fuzzy chairs

Miniature plants

Miniature Microphone

Mini bottle Dom Perignon, an xmas gift from my friend nemo, it's

on the top shelf

Problems and changes:

1. ARGB, pretty pretty pain in the ass. 4 pieces of software........

2. The water loop was changed extensively as hardware came in and space limitations were discovered. The biggest change is that I originally planned to have one radiator on the front of the case, the tubes running over Jills head and to light the tubes as lighting for the bar, to do this the fan would have been in the case proper pushing the whole bar to far into the mobo, it didn't work, so the loop was moved to the top of the case and caused me to have one complex bent tube

Second, I had planned the loop to use one sideport on the distro, but space limitation moved both ports to the top causing the complex fittings setup in that corner.

3. The MOBO, sigh. This has been clearly the most challenging choice I made in this build, I really wanted it to work perfectly too, but I rolled those dice because: Aesthetic+function, the board I wanted (https://en.colorful.cn/en/home/product?mid=84&id=400d19bc-5655-49e1-b391-df00b60935ef) was to great a risk for the cost. This was a silver medal.

I generally dislike the design options I had in the Z790 series of the big board makers (I HATE big logos), especially the full ATX, there was one M that interested me, I should have picked it . This board has potential, but the BIOS is underdeveloped and compatibility has been problematic, I had to do a tricky outdated style BIOS update right from the box, and have had to reset the cmos a couple times. It skips BIOS on general boot and though stable, it will have to be addressed eventually, it doesn't have a proper sleep because of some issue between uefi & legacy. It may end up replaced, which will require a full build teardown.

the Turbo fan built into the board doesn't seem to function

Alos, the two argb connections on the mobo dont work, or I can't get them to recognize anything, necessitating the Coolermaster controller for the PSU and Distro. it is shoved behind the distro along with a Noctua 40mm

#va 11 hall a #va11ha11a #computer #pc #pcgamimg #sukeban #sukeban games #watercolor #watercooled #custompc #pc mods #jill stingray #fanart #cyberpunk art #futuristic #cyberpunk

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banixelectronics · 1 year

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Illuminate Your Space with Style: The Versatility of Neon Flexible Strip Lights

Neon flexible strip light infuses our residential, commercial, and recreational areas with that timeless charm. These lights emulate the unique glow of conventional neon without the fragility or excessive energy usage associated with it by employing flexible tubing loaded with LED lights. The end result is an eye-catching lighting system that presents countless design possibilities.

Unlimited Color Scheme: The wide variety of colors that neon flexible strip lights give is one of their most alluring qualities. These lights may be adjusted to your tastes, whether you want to create a calming, monochrome ambiance or a lively, dynamic environment. The options for color are essentially endless, ranging from cozy, cozier tones to vibrant, energizing tints.

Simple Installation: Even people with little DIY knowledge may easily install neon flexible strip lights. The strips may be easily attached to a variety of surfaces, including walls, ceilings, furniture, and artwork, thanks to the adhesive backing. You may quickly modify your environment thanks to this simple installation technique.

Energy Efficiency: Neon multicolor strip light are much more energy-efficient than conventional neon lighting. Since LED technology uses less electricity and produces less heat, it is a greener alternative that also lowers your energy costs.

Applications

The possibilities for neon flexible strip lights are endless. They provide the chance to improve both residential and business areas because they can be utilized both indoors and outside.

Neon Flexible Strip Lighting Ideas for Under Cabinet Lighting: Installing neon flexible strip lights behind cabinets can completely transform your kitchen. This provides attractive accent lighting as well as useful work illumination for preparing meals.

Accent Wall Art: To give depth and perspective to your room, use neon strip lights to frame paintings, mirrors, or bookcases that are hung on the wall.

Highlight: Install neon strip lights behind your headboard to improve the looks of your bedroom. The mellow, diffused lighting makes the space feel warm and welcoming.

Setting up neon flexible strip light India all around your TV or projector screen can up the ante on your home theater experience. The soft backlighting eases eye strain and give your entertainment space a cinematic feel.

#neon flexible strip light #color changing led strip lights

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lily-alphonse · 5 months

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Sebastian Headcanons Misc

"CaFfEiNe DoEsN't ReAlLy AfFeCt Me" needs Monster to survive, sleep is super fucked

Natural hair is thick and curly like Robin's, but is actually just brown (not red)

Hates how it frizzes when it rains, still goes out in the rain anyway for sad boy vibes. And frogs.

Steals eyeliner and nail polish from Abigail and Robin

Lights his room with LED color-changing light strips. Green is reserved for when he needs comforting

#stardew valley #sebastian my beloved #sdv sebastian #stardew valley headcanons #headcanon #lily speaks

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ledlightstripspro · 11 months

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Illuminate Your World with Multicolor Light Strips from LED Light Strips Pro

In interior design and home decor, lighting plays a pivotal role in setting the mood and ambiance of any space. From cozy, warm whites to vibrant and dynamic colors, lighting can transform your living space in an instant. If you're looking for an innovative and cost-effective way to add a splash of color and personality to your home, look no further than Multicolor Light Strips from LED Light Strips Pro.

Multicolor Light Strips - The Ultimate Lighting Solution LED Light Strips Pro offers a wide range of Multicolor Light Strips that have become a favorite choice among homeowners, businesses, and enthusiasts for their versatility and ease of use. These LED light strips are a game-changer in interior design and lighting, allowing you to transform any room or setting effortlessly.

Whether you want to create a calming and relaxing atmosphere or a vibrant and energetic one, Multicolor Light Strips have you covered. With a simple click of a remote control or the swipe of a smartphone app, you can choose from millions of colors and various lighting effects to suit your preferences. The possibilities are endless, and you're only limited by your imagination.

Why Choose Multicolor Light Strips from LED Light Strips Pro? Superior Quality and Durability: LED Light Strips Pro is committed to providing high-quality products that stand the test of time. Our Multicolor Light Strips are made with premium materials and LED technology, ensuring longevity and performance.

Easy Installation: Installing our Multicolor Light Strips is a breeze. With a strong adhesive backing, you can quickly and securely attach them to any surface, whether it's your living room walls, kitchen cabinets, or outdoor patio. There is no need for professional installation – you can do it yourself.

Energy-Efficient: LED technology is renowned for its energy efficiency. You can enjoy vibrant, colorful lighting without worrying about skyrocketing electricity bills. LED Light Strips Pro's products are designed to be eco-friendly and cost-effective.

Intelligent Control: With the included remote control or a smartphone app, you can effortlessly adjust the colors, brightness, and lighting effects to match your mood or occasion. It's the perfect solution for creating the right atmosphere for parties, romantic evenings, or relaxation.

Endless Applications: Multicolor Light Strips are not limited to residential use. They are perfect for commercial spaces, restaurants, hotels, and any business looking to create a unique and inviting atmosphere. Use them to highlight architectural details, accentuate products, or create captivating displays.

Long Lifespan: LED Light Strips Pro's Multicolor Light Strips are built to last. With a long lifespan, you won't need to worry about frequent replacements. This makes them a cost-effective lighting solution in the long run.

Customization: We understand that every customer has unique needs and preferences. That's why we offer various Multicolor Light Strips with different lengths and features to cater to multiple applications. You can also cut and customize the strips to fit your space perfectly.

Transform Your Space with Multicolor Light Strips Multicolor Light Strips from LED Light Strips Pro provide a remarkable opportunity to elevate your home or business. Their flexibility, ease of installation, and intelligent control options make them a must-have for anyone looking to enhance their lighting setup. From setting a cozy and intimate atmosphere to creating a vibrant and energetic environment, these light strips are your ticket to endless possibilities.

Are you ready to take your lighting to the next level? Illuminate your world with Multicolor Light Strips from LED Light Strips Pro. Browse our wide selection, choose the perfect set for your needs, and start transforming your space today. Experience the magic of color and light like never before with our premium Multicolor Light Strips.

#LED Strip Lights #Flexible LEDs #Multicolor Light Strips #RGB LED Strips #Color Changing LEDs #Mood Lighting

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ollie-jpg · 2 years

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soapghost headcanons sleep edition

ghost:

sleeps in complete darkness. has blackout curtains and unplugs/shuts off all his electronics before going to sleep. sleeps in complete silence. if you didn’t know better you’d think you were walking into a cave

hates sleeping. it makes him feel vulnerable but he also think it’s an impractical waste of time

sleeps on a twin sized mattress. curls into a ball when he sleeps

always too hot

the first time soap slept in his bed ghost got a foot lodged in his side and he ended up on the floor and got no sleep that night

light sleeper

there’s at least one knife under his pillow at all times. sometimes he hides more between the mattress and the frame

talks in his sleep

refuses to sleep around anyone else because he has trust issues. will force himself to go days without sleeping unless soap is around

locks the door to his room at the same time every night to make him feel safer

has at least two weighted blankets that he’s folded in half to make them seem heavier but they’re still not heavy enough for his liking

loves it when soap lays on him/rests his head on his chest

soap

soap sleeps with the curtains half drawn and always has something playing in the background

wears earplugs when he sleeps ?? don’t ask me to explain it’s just something he would do

s p r a w l s out as much as he can. sleeps on a king sized mattress just because he likes having the space

has led strip lights on the walls but never changes the color from red and he keeps them on the lowest setting because it’s easy on the eyes at night and he knows ghost won’t mind it

the first time ghost slept in his bed he woke up the next morning crying because he had slept really well and that scared him (trauma responses abhorred <3) and soap didn’t understand it at first and thought he had done something wrong

a literal ice cube. loves to snuggle with ghost at night to warm himself up & gets sad when ghost isn’t around to keep him warm

sometimes finds himself sleeping On Top of ghost like a baby sleeping on somebody’s chest

never knows how it ends up happening but he doesn’t complain about it ever because he loves it

wears socks in bed

one time a civvy kid brought him a little beat up raccoon stuffed animal & he sleeps with it very night (it lowkey reminds him of ghost)

keeps a stack of various books on his bedside table to read at night when he can’t sleep

soap snores so effing loud

#soapghost #cod #ghostsoap #original #ollie talks #look at me creating content for something i know nothing about!

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galaxywarp · 11 months

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literally everything i own is the light-up LED color changing option, if that option exists. my keyboard. my mouse. my entire gaming desk. my display stands for my consoles/vr headset. my chargers. my headphones. also i have no end of LED strips and various lights/decorations. everything i own is bright and rainbow. if it doesnt light up whats the point. oh also my gaming chair has LED lights.

#when i had that crazy good job in 2021 i went nuts buying led stuff for my house

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 4 months

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 17

Chapters: 17/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

You believed that your sojourn in Cape Kennedy would be explicitly for work, but what started as a simple business trip evolved into a much more complex situation, teetering on the brink of catastrophe.

Andrew turned out to be significantly more enjoyable to spend time with than you actually remembered. During your university days, he was much more timid and insecure than the person who rushed up to you outside the airport, surprising you with a tight, joyous hug that instantly dissolved all the peculiar anxieties you were feeling upon landing.

Truth be told, your memories of interactions with him during your evening outings were sparse, as he tended to stick close to Ella, engaging more in conversations with her than anyone else. After many years without seeing him, you even reached a point where you forgot his existence. It's astounding how the progression of time and accumulation of experiences can unveil a person's genuine character and unearth the finest qualities they've kept concealed.

Just a handful of phone calls and a smattering of text messages were all it took for you to grasp his newfound confidence. He didn't need an extended conversation to establish a comfortable and friendly rapport with you. His messages were punctuated with a barrage of emojis, more than you had ever received at once, and his gif reactions were so humorous they had you doubling over in laughter.

His style was impeccable, with that colorful shirt that seemed a tad eccentric but in a balanced way, blending perfectly with the sophisticated black jacket, jeans, and shoes he had selected. His light brown hair was partly styled in a sort of pompadour, but the gentle breeze was lending it a pleasingly disheveled look. His stubble was barely noticeable, enhancing his handsome face with a mature touch due to its well-groomed appearance.

His car was quite luxurious, but you couldn't expect anything less of him at that point. The seats were incredibly comfy and the interior exuded a scent of white musk. While he drove, keeping the radio at a soft volume to ensure clear communication, Andrew finally provided a comprehensive explanation of the purpose behind your trip to Florida.

"So, I already mentioned this, but I've been following your work for quite a while now. And let me tell you, your creations are phenomenal.”

"Why, thank you," you responded with a smile, sweeping your hair away from your face. The salty scent of the ocean wafted in through the open windows, instantly reminding you of the beach landscape in the Dreaming.

"Now, the reason I sought your help is for a new collection I want to curate for the summer season. My goal is to merge innovative design with sustainable practices, demonstrating a commitment to environmental consciousness and ethical manufacturing methods.”

"That sounds wonderful."

"Indeed. I want to draw inspiration from the colors, textures, and patterns found in the aquatic world. Each piece in the collection needs to exhibit intricate detailing and innovative fabric choices.”

You nodded, mentally cataloging all the information he was sharing.

"I envision the collection to be versatile. I'm not planning to just create swimsuits, but essentially a complete range of summer attire that one could wear.”

"Of course," you agreed.

Andrew's face lit up. "Now, imagine having the perfect match, maintaining a consistent theme but with originality and diversity so that it doesn't all look the same.”

The wheels in your brain were already turning at full speed, sketching out what could potentially become the first set of drafts to propose.

"Obviously, I don't want anything in the typical ‘mermaid style’. That's just boring. But there's only so much I can do with my creative process.”

"Well then, you've contacted the right person for the job," you declared, wearing a broad grin.

Andrew raised his hand, his chuckling robust and contagious. It took a moment for you to understand that he was soliciting a high-five. You couldn't even recall when you last partook in such a lighthearted interaction. It elicited a comforting warmth in your heart.

As you slapped your hand against his, he exclaimed, "You bet I did, girl!”

The car ride was brief. He pulled up directly in front of his workplace, a shop that seemed quaint in size, but instantly made you feel welcomed with its glowing neon sign. The store's beautiful mannequins were adorned with impeccably tailored clothing, arranged in a professional display that mimicked the beaches of Cape Kennedy. The shop windows were truly extraordinary, an authentic work of art. You could tell that they had intentionally incorporated real sand and seashells into the composition.

"Wow," you gasped, your gaze fixed on the spectacular view. "Andrew, I haven't even stepped inside, and I'm already smitten.”

He chuckled softly. "I can't take the credit, I'm afraid. This is all the work of my window dresser.”

"Well, there's undeniable talent on display here.”

"Oh absolutely, she's the best in the business. I enjoy updating the shop's aesthetic quite frequently, and without her expertise, I'd be utterly clueless.”

Guiding you gently inside with a light touch on your back, he announced his presence. The woman behind the counter, a striking young lady with untamed red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a smattering of adorable freckles across her cheeks, whirled around so quickly she nearly collided with the table.

“Oh hey! Hi!”

Named Charlotte, she was no more than 20 years, with her primary role being the management of the shop's sales, encompassing both the physical store and online transactions. Andrew regarded her akin to a younger sister; she looked quite vivacious at first impression, yet proved to be exceptionally proficient and reliable in her role.

Without missing a beat, Charlotte promptly offered snacks and drinks to both you and Andrew, ushering you towards the back where the true magic unfolded behind closed doors. Their laboratory was surprisingly larger than the retail area itself; it resembled a lavish loft, complete with expansive industrial windows and the cozy glow of fairy lights.

The window dresser, an elegant woman in her 50s, was diligently constructing props in a distant corner. Despite her long, red nails, she glued and cut materials together with remarkable precision. As you walked by, Andrew introduced you to his tight-knit team, each member of which showed exceptional openness and kindness.

Positioned at the farthest end of the room, a welcoming lounge space beckoned, replete with plush couches and a variety of seating options. The area was bathed in soft light emanating from an oversized lamp, exquisitely fashioned in the shape of a flower. To you, a good workplace needed to reflect the comfort and coziness reminiscent of home. The relaxed ambiance was not just perceptible, but it was also nurturing an environment of seamless harmony among the team members.

Although your jet lag was already starting to take a toll on you, you managed to stay alert throughout the remainder of your visit to the shop. Andrew penned a list of essential points for you to memorize, letting you savor your tea on the most comfortable bean chair you had ever sat on. The enthusiasm he injected into everything he described, including the addition of sketches and adorable emojis scattered throughout the paper, marked him as a kindred spirit in creativity. Although he might not possess a specialized skill for complex projects demanding a unique approach, his talent in overall management was clearly evident.

Your collaboration with him had just begun, yet you found yourself already envisioning future partnerships.

As the day progressed, you noted the sun beginning to set. Andrew made sure you had everything required to start on your drafts, but his clear and concise manner of speaking left no room for questions. Ideas were already flooding your mind, and you were eager to begin sketching them out. But as strong as your creative desire happened to be, it was matched by a pressing need for rest and rejuvenation.

Thus, Andrew led you to his car once more, steering it towards a quaint Bed and Breakfast that he had personally reserved for your stay under your name.

"Hal, a good friend of mine, owns the place," he elaborated. "He's a great guy. I'm certain you'll find his company pleasant.”

"I appreciate this, Andrew. You didn't have to go through the trouble, I could have arranged for a hotel room."

"It's really no trouble at all. Besides, it was I who invited you here. It's the least I could do," he replied. "I've known Hal since I moved to Cape Kennedy. He was literally the first friend I made here. I prefer to have you stay somewhere I know is safe."

You couldn't help but smile. The thoughtfulness he was extending was truly heartwarming.

"Then, I'm confident I'll be in good hands.”

As the car came to a halt, you took in the sight of a lovely establishment, surrounded by a lush expanse of greenery. The entrance, painted in white, exuded a touch of rustic charm yet retained an aura of elegance. A solitary lantern hung just above the front door, adding to its appeal.

As you stepped out of the car, Andrew fetched your suitcase from the trunk. Simultaneously, the door of the Bed and Breakfast swung open, revealing a man with short hair, mostly silver, with a prominent black section over his right front, and shorter strands on the left side. He was dressed casually in a short-sleeved black button-down shirt, jeans, and dark shoes.

Andrew immediatly greeted his friend, embracing him in a warm hug. "Hal, it's good to see you!"

Hal reciprocated the gesture enthusiastically, sporting a broad smile. "Good to see you too, my friend."

Feeling a tad shy, you took a small step forward, subtly tucking your hair behind your ear.

As Hal and Andrew broke their embrace, the owner of the B&B shifted his focus to you. His eyes lit up in recognition. "Ah, you must be Y/N! Welcome, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. I’m Hal Carter," he greeted warmly.

"Nice to meet you, Hal," you responded politely, extending your hand for a handshake.

"To be honest, I might be a fan of yours," he confessed, gently enveloping your hand with both of his in a sign of admiration.

"Really?”

"Oh yeah, he was practically over the moon when I told him who you were," Andrew chimed in.

"Come on now, it's not every day I get the opportunity to host a celebrity," Hal playfully retorted.

To say that you were feeling bashful at their comments would be a gross understatement.

"I'm flattered, truly. But I am no celebrity by any means," you said humbly.

"There's no need for modesty, darling. Your name has been creating quite a buzz around here."

"Wait, it has?"

"Oh, didn't I mention it?" Andrew scratched his cheek nonchalantly. "The Corbyn&Jones brand has been hitting the roof in online sales recently.”

You were aware that your company had gained significant popularity in the UK, but you had absolutely no inkling that it was expanding overseas at such a rapid pace.

"You certainly did not, but thank you," you chuckled, giving Hal's hand a gentle squeeze.

"No, thank you. It's wonderful to have you here. Our little odd family seems to be growing today."

Once Hal let go of your hand, Andrew picked up your suitcase and trailed behind his friend, who was now guiding the way towards the porch. However, he didn't proceed inside, preparing to head back to wrap up some last-minute tasks and shut the shop for the day.

He bid his goodbyes with another warm embrace to Hal and a hug for you, expressing his gratitude for your contribution to his project. Though being left alone among strangers often made you a bit agitated, Hal had a knack for making people feel comfortable. With his effortless charm, he could put you at ease and bring a smile to your face without even trying.

Upon entering the main hall, you were guided to meet your future housemates, each one more unique than the last. First up were Barbie and Ken, an apparently cheerful couple who could easily be mistaken for real-life versions of the famous dolls. Barbie was undeniably beautiful, her long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes catching your attention immediately. Ken, on the other hand, was the epitome of a ladies' man. With dark brown hair shaved at the sides and neatly tied in a small bun, coupled with a grin that came across as slightly mischievous, he certainly fit the part. You even suspected that he might be flirting with you, considering the way he looked you up and down and the tone he used, which was typical of a man trying to make an impression.

Barbie's features visibly hardened, although she attempted to hide it.

No, this guy was undeniably a massive red flag. It would be best for you to maintain a wide berth from him.

The other two women were somewhat harder to characterize, mainly because they appeared strikingly similar in their looks. Dressed in head-to-toe black ensembles, they wore dark veils over their faces and sported long raven hair with straight fringes. Their ebony lipstick and eye makeup further accentuated their gothic aesthetic. Introduced as Chantal and Zelda, they immediately offered their congratulations on your success, conversing as though they had known you for a long time. Zelda, seemingly more reserved, would whisper her sentences into Chantal's ear instead of speaking up. Whether they were twins or lovers, it was hard to tell, even for Hal.

You also learned about another guest, named Gilbert, who mostly stayed to his attic room and rarely ventured out. He was described as being quite reserved, often preferring to spend his days engrossed in reading.

After a careful exploration of the place, you found yourself growing fond of the building's old but warm interiors. It radiated a sense of coziness and was easy to navigate, with your room situated on the second floor, adjacent to Barbie's and Ken's double chamber. The space was generously proportioned, maintained with meticulous cleanliness, and supplemented with a private bathroom. The allure of the king-sized bed was nearly overpowering, but you managed to resist the temptation of flopping onto it face-first.

You opened your suitcase and began organizing your belongings for the upcoming days. You didn't bring a lot of changes of clothes with you, being certain that you would indulge in some shopping during your spare time. Utilizing the Wi-Fi password supplied by Hal, you initiated your laptop to review your emails and incorporate Andrew's annotations into your Notion documentation.

Since the night of the Fashion Show, an increasing number of journalists and influencers had reached out to you for exclusive interviews or sample requests for promotional purposes. Although your company didn't take the distribution of free products lightly, Ella suggested to participate in a handful of interviews as a strategy to enhance your public image and thereby increase followers and sales. Regrettably, your time had been exceptionally limited, which led you to decline those offers until you could find a moment of respite.

You allowed yourself a moment to lie back on the comforting mattress, your gaze unfocused as it rested on the ceiling, while the events of the past months replayed in your mind. The dramatic and swift transformation that your life had undergone since the day you met Morpheus was almost beyond belief. At times, you harbored a fear that you might wake up to find it all had been nothing more than a beautiful dream.

Once everything was in place and the empty suitcase stowed under the bed, that strange feeling in your gut that you had nearly forgotten about began to resurface. This time, it was even more intense than before, sending a sudden chill through your bloodstream. Instinctively, your eyes darted around the room, half-expecting it to collapse and swallow you down, unable to comprehend the cause.

What on earth was going on with you?

You took deep, calming breaths to stave off the discomfort. You had grown familiar with this physical reaction, but you staunchly refused to accept it as an omen of impending misfortune. Your life seemed to be finally heading in the right direction. You were satisfied, your job was highly fulfilling, and your success had even brought you Abroad. What could possibly go wrong?

Could it just be a projection of your subconscious, a subtle onset of panic manifesting due to your residual insecurities? Could it be due to that faint voice inside you, suggesting that it might all be too good to be true?

Rising to sit on the bed, you pulled out your phone to start a mini investigation of your own, sending texts to your father, Hob, and Ella at the same time. Given that they were a few hours ahead, you didn’t expect an instant reply. Nevertheless, you were eager to at least eliminate the possibility of them being in any kind of trouble, particularly your father.

Luckily, he was the first one to get back to you. His message was filled with joy, knowing that you had landed safely and were having a good time. He wished you an enjoyable stay and invited you to visit him upon your return. So, at least with him, everything was in perfect order.

Soon after, Hob's text came in, equally buoyant and accompanied by a host of heart and hug emojis. Ella's response took a little longer, but once she replied, you spent the following fifteen minutes exchanging voice messages. The sinking feeling in your stomach seemed to slowly dissipate again.

You exhaled, slipping your phone into your pants pocket. For a few minutes, you sat there in silence, attentive to the clock's ticking and the distant voices emanating from downstairs. Whatever it was, you knew you couldn't afford to dwell on it for too long. Perhaps it wasn't anything significant.

Just as you were preparing to stand and join the others, an unexpected knock at the window caused you to startle. You spun around, staring out into the darkening sky but seeing nothing unusual. Then, a second knock drew your gaze to a black figure with large, flapping wings, incessantly tapping the glass with its beak as it fluttered in the air.

Puzzled, you approached the window to open it. The black bird perched on the sill in front of you, fluffing its feathers and looking up at your confused expression.

"Hey Y/N!”

“Matthew? What are you doing here?”

He clicked his tongue. "Well, it's quite a story.”

"Did Morpheus send you?”

"He did, but it's not you I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on this time.”

"I don't understand.”

"See, I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you about it.”

You leaned in slightly, bringing your nose closer to his beak. "You're here now, aren't you? Go ahead, spill it.”

Matthew exhaled a sigh. His reluctance to speak suggested that your intuition may have been justified in its alarm. Whatever was transpiring, it could explain the knot in your stomach that kept fluctuating.

"So, there's a girl who arrived here. The boss and Lucienne need me to monitor her because of the... uhh… abilities she possesses.”

If anything, that added to your confusion even more.

“What kind of abilities?”

Matthew paused before continuing, "Look, this is just a precautionary measure. You don't need to worry about it.”

"If you say that, it just gives me a reason to actually be worried about it. Why did you come to me if you're not going to tell me anything?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, of all people.”

The more you heard him out, the more you were certain that something was incredibly wrong.

"It’s a work trip,” you explained. "Could you be a little more specific?”

"Y/N, if you get too close to the Vortex, things could...”

“What even is a Vortex?”

Your eagerness to know was elevating your voice by a few octaves, and you had to tightly shut your eyes to maintain your composure.

"The boss could explain that more effectively.”

"Then let your boss know that he and I will have a chat later.”

“I think he heard that.”

“Good.”

Hal's voice resonated from behind your door, beckoning you and announcing that they were on the cusp of starting dinner preparations. Clearing your throat, you responded loudly, assuring that you would descend in a few minutes to assist.

Matthew waited, ears attuned to the receding footsteps, before speaking up again. "It appears you're quite occupied here,” he noted. “I should probably return to keep an eye on Rose.”

Your complexion turned ashen. You had pushed that memory to the back of your mind, distracted by your responsibilities and the thrill of your new adventure in Cape Kennedy. But now, it was vividly clear as you recalled every single moment, every word spoken, within your dream.

And, above all else, you remembered her.

"I'm Rose. Rose Walker.”

"I'm Y/N Y/LN, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

"Where exactly are we?”

"This is the Dreaming. Or at least, a portion of it.”

"Wait, am I asleep?”

"Where do you hail from, Rose?”

"I come from New Jersey, but I'm travelling in search of my brother right now.”

"Do you have any idea where he might be?”

"I actually do. He’s in Florida.”

It couldn’t be…

“Matthew, you don’t mean Rose Walker, do you?”

“Wait, have you met her already?”

What were the chances that this girl would not only be on your flight, but also expected to stay at the exact location that Andrew had organized for you?

Rose Walker, a name you had believed to be confined merely to the realm of the Dreaming.

“Matthew, she was in my dream. I saw her there.”

“You did? Oh…. oh. That’s not good.”

The way he stuttered, hopping back and forth on his raven legs, did not augur well at all.

"Matthew?”

"I need to go. For now, just... stay alert, okay?”

You had a multitude of questions, but as impatient as you were to unravel the mystery, it had to be postponed until the ensuing night, the moment when you would drift off to sleep and step into Morpheus' domain.

“Take care, Matthew.”

“You too, Y/N.”

You watched him take flight and move away from the house, swallowing down your burgeoning sense of foreboding about something you had absolutely no knowledge of.

You heaved a heavy sigh, shutting the window, and forcefully suppressing the growing sense of worry that had risen to your chest.

Preparing dinner alongside Hal and the others turned out to be an enjoyable experience. The familiar atmosphere you found yourself in was fantastic, and Hal exceeded even Andrew's glowing description. He was amusing, jovial, a person who enjoyed light-hearted banter and voicing his thoughts out loud.

Occasionally, you could feel the weight of a scrutinizing gaze on you as Ken stole covert glances in your direction. Each time you noticed him uncomfortably close, flashing what he likely considered a charming smile (which, truth be told, had no effect on you), you found an excuse to put some distance between you and carry on with your tasks at a more comfortable space. Barbie appeared blissfully oblivious, but you were certain she was doing her utmost to feign ignorance. To an outsider, they projected an image of flawless perfection - so perfect, in fact, that it bordered on being entirely artificial.

She was unmistakably in love with him, that much was evident. However, you couldn't help but wonder if he reciprocated her feelings to the same degree, or if he was merely concerned about maintaining appearances.

Certainly, the fact that he seemed to flirt so openly with other women despite the presence of his lover was enough to cast him in a highly dubious light.

Barbie, on the other hand, was a genuine sweetheart. Even from the limited conversation you had with her, it was easy for you to see that she was highly romantic and imaginative - someone who had far more to offer than what she allowed to surface.

Zelda maintained her communication restricted to whispered exchanges with Chantal, but her smile was soft, belonging to someone who likely had weathered many personal storms. Chantal boasted about their private collection of stuffed spiders, inviting you to take a look. While spiders weren't exactly your cup of tea, a part of you was intrigued to uncover more facets of their personalities.

Gilbert was the only one absent, aside from the other two new guests (one of whom was none other than Rose herself) who had gone off to the foster agency. Though you were keen on making his acquaintance, you opted to respect his apparent need for privacy.

As dinner quickly concluded, you volunteered to assist Hal with the dishwashing and general cleanup. He liked engaging in conversation and delving into people's life stories, so you both exchanged tales of past hardships and the transformative journeys that led to you standing side by side as you were now. However, while you were satisfied and exactly where you aspired to be, Hal was surprisingly discontented. Despite managing his grandmother's house and performing as a Drag in the local nightclub, he harbored dreams of far larger audiences and grander stages, envisioning himself in the spotlight akin to a Broadway star.

The past hour seemed to fly by, and as you took the liberty to prepare yourself some tea, Hal started to get ready for his work shift. A group outing had been planned for that evening to witness the landlord's performance, and you were promptly invited to join them and share in the camaraderie. Even though your inclination would have been to retreat to your room and rest until the next day, you chose to step out of your comfort zone and agreed to tag along without any objections.

Hal had just revealed his ambition to become a celebrated performer. The least you could do was to appreciate his genuine talent and offer your support.

Engrossed in casual banter, the others lounged on the couch while you savored your warm cup of tea on your own. The first sip brought immediate hydration, aiding your digestion and offering a moment of tranquility amidst the heaviness of jet lag and travel fatigue. Being so far away from home was unfamiliar to you, but the thrill ignited by your new project was so powerful that it briefly superseded the returning feeling of your twisted gut.

Eventually, your peace was subtly disturbed when you noticed someone silently glide into the kitchen just as you were settling at the table. Lifting your gaze, you found yourself looking at a middle-aged man dressed in Victorian-style clothing, his gray hair and mustache adding to his distinctive looks. There was something about him that suggested another era - as if he had stepped out of a time machine or leapt from the pages of a Sherlock Holmes novel.

The man smiled, acknowledging his quiet intrusion with a polite, "Oh, my apologies, Miss.”

You didn't recognize this man, and that could only mean he was likely the elusive guest from the attic room.

“Hello. You must be Gilbert,” You replied in a cordial tone.

"Indeed. And you must be one of the new lodgers.”

"I am. Name's Y/N, Y/N L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Before you could reach out to offer a handshake, Gilbert leaned forward, performing an old-fashioned but entrancing bow, while tightly clutching a peculiar cane in his left hand. “Delighted.”

You smiled at how his small glasses stayed slightly askew on his nose. The aura he exuded was strikingly peaceful, uncannily familiar even. You couldn't quite put your finger on why.

"I didn't mean to intrude," he said. "I was engrossed in a book and thought it would be pleasant to have a cup of tea alongside.”

"You're in luck then. I just brewed some for myself. There's a bit of it left, would you like it?”

Gilbert's eyes softened even more. "If it's not too much trouble, then yes, I would gladly accept.”

"It's no trouble at all. I always have the habit of making too much.”

"But one can never have too much tea, can they?”

You released a robust chuckle, standing up to reach for the teapot, and picking up a clean mug along the way. "Absolutely.”

He watched patiently, observing you as you poured the remaining tea, its steam rising invitingly.

"Here," you offered, gently sliding the mug towards him. "It's Earl Grey. I hope it is to your liking, sir.”

"A classic," he remarked. "Always the finest choice, don't you agree?”

His manner of speaking was so reminiscent of a traditional British gentleman that it made your heart flutter. It was incredibly refreshing to witness.

"Finest choices are my preference," you admitted, sporting a grin.

Gilbert gently blew on the liquid to cool it down, carefully sampling a few drops. He savored it much like a connoisseur, licking his lips afterward.

"Delicious. Just what I needed to accompany my reading. Would it be all right if I finished this in my room?”

His zeal to return to his book was amusing; it brought to mind your own fervor during your younger years.

"Of course. May I inquire about the book you're reading?”

“Oh, it’s Chesterton!”

Intriguing choice, you mused to yourself. Especially given that the author's name also happened to be Gilbert. Upon giving him another glance, you noticed an uncanny resemblance between him and the images you had seen of Chesterton. What an interesting coincidence.

"Enjoy your reading then. Are you coming with us tonight? To see our landlord’s theatrical endeavor?”

"Yes, I received the invitation. That sounds lovely, doesn’t it? I'll likely join you all later.”

With another understated bow, he excused himself and left the kitchen. As he disappeared up the stairs, you could hear the contented "mmhh" he hummed in appreciation of the tea.

Traveling had always been an activity you desired to devote both time and money towards. It offered opportunities to delve into various places and cultures, as well as meet a diverse array of unique individuals. Having just arrived in Cape Kennedy, you made some intriguing new acquaintances within the span of two hours (Ken being the singular exception). At first, you assumed Hal would quickly become your favorite, but Gilbert seized that position in less than ten minutes.

Sipping the last bit of your tea, you listened to the soft music playing in the background and the continued laughter of the rest of the group. The sound of footsteps entered the scene, and their chattering was interrupted as they began to converse with someone who had just walked in through the front door.

Hey!" Ken exclaimed.

“You’ve returned,” said Chantal.

“How’d it go?” Barbie asked curiously.

You perked up your ears and furrowed your brows. The response that followed instantly froze you in your tracks, causing your hair to stand on end.

“Well, I didn’t make any new friends at the foster agency.”

“You stood up for yourself. I was very proud of her.”

While the second voice was unknown, the first was unmistakably identifiable. It belonged to a girl who you weren't even aware existed in your reality - someone you had seen in the Dreaming, sharing a few tranquil moments together while asleep.

Rose Walker. The very one that Matthew was supposed to be supervising.

Until the very last moment, you tried to convince yourself that you were making a colossal mistake, that none of this could be possible, regardless of the myriad of unthinkable things you had experienced with your own eyes. Prophetic dreams were rare, but you could have at least rationalized the existence of a girl with the same name as the one you had dreamed about.

No, the voice was a perfect match, etched into your mind, ringing in your ears.

Gradually, you placed your empty mug down and left the table, cautiously stepping out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Ken smiled, grasping his car keys with pride. “Well, you can tell us all about it over drinks.”

Barbie interjected. “We’re taking you out.”

You'd be damned if that wasn't indeed the same person you had met on the beach in Morpheus' realm. Same face, same clothes, same adorable black locks streaked with rainbow hues.

Beside her stood a taller woman with dark brown hair, dressed in a long coat and holding a green bag in her right hand. She radiated stunning beauty and sophistication.

“Right now?” The woman asked.

“Absolutely,” Ken replied.

Suddenly, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you, leaving you uncertain of how to approach and introduce yourself. You chose to keep your distance, staying in the shadows as long as necessary.

Rose turned her attention to Chantal and Zelda. "You look so nice. Should we change?”

Both of them shook their heads, but only Chantal offered an answer. "We always look this way.”

Ken and Barbie immediately confirmed it.

“They do. Even at breakfast.”

“Right.”

Your heart leapt as you watched them all stand up, getting ready to leave.

Ken let out an "Ooh" as he downed the rest of his drink, smacking his lips with his hand afterward. “Shall we, ladies?”

You rolled your eyes. Somehow, his self-centeredness was palpable, the fact not lost on you that he was the lone man in the midst of women.

“We’d love it.”

“But shouldn’t we wait for Hal?”

Chantal cast a contented look at Rose. “Hal’s already there.”

Rose raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, clearly unaware of Hal's performance that evening. As Ken, Barbie, Chantal, and Zelda left the house, you grasped the chance to take your action. Before she could move away, with the woman's hand gently resting on her shoulder, you managed to speak, your voice coming out slightly raspy and unsure.

“Rose.”

The duo halted and pivoted, their gazes locked on you. The woman appeared surprised that you knew her friend's name, while the one who was the primary subject of your interest looked completely shocked. Her mouth agape, she stared at you incredulously, while you nervously twiddled your fingers and inched closer to their position.

“Wait, Y/N? Is that really you?”

Could it get any more awkward?

"Yes. It's good to see you again.”

"Do you two know each other?" The woman asked, her attention shifting back and forth between you and Rose.

The girl seemed to be at a loss for words. "Uhm...”

"We met on the plane," you blurted out, not thinking clearly.

"On... the plane? When did you even have time to meet?”

Darn. Naturally, she wouldn't believe that. How could you have been so oblivious as to not realize they had traveled to Florida together?

Luckily, Rose devised the perfect alibi right then and there, despite its implausibility. "You were asleep. We crossed paths during my bathroom break.”

“Really..?”

"Y/N, this is my friend Lyta Hall. Lyta, this is Y/N Y/LN.”

Rose appeared as perplexed as you, evidently anxious and actively steering the conversation away. Lyta didn't press on, instead, she greeted you with a warm smile and a handshake that was both firm and gentle. "Nice to meet you.”

"Nice to meet you too," you reciprocated.

"Are you joining us?" Lyta queried.

"I am. Speaking of which, we should probably get going, before the others start to suspect we've fallen into a black hole.”

They both laughed at your jest, and you followed straight, trying to come to terms with the enormity of the situation you were getting yourself into.

Lyta took the lead, confidently walking along the front avenue. You deliberately reduced your speed, maintaining Rose by your side, who then clasped onto your sleeve with a certain desperation.

"What's going on? I thought you were a dream,” she murmured.

"Yeah, no kidding. I thought the same of you,” you echoed her words, clenching your teeth so that no one else could pick up on your conversation.

"Well, this isn't the only strange thing that's happened to me recently," she revealed. "How can this even be real?”

"Trust me, I have absolutely no idea.”

With her usual sunny disposition, Barbie encouraged you to pick up the pace. "Come on you two, you don't want to be late now, do you?"

Reluctantly, Rose let go of your arm. "Can we talk about this later?”

What could you possibly discuss when you were utterly clueless about the unfolding events? Perhaps Morpheus could provide some insights into the situation the following night.

“Of course.”

Seeing that Ken's car was a genuine Lamborghini didn't surprise you - it was a perfect mirror of the personality you had deduced from his overall demeanor. Rose invited you to ride with her and Lyta, along with Chantal and Zelda who had already staked their claim on two of the back seats. As you laid one hand on the car door and swung a foot inside, the distinct caw of a raven echoed from the roof of the B&B. Once you were inside the vehicle, you spotted Matthew perched atop the porch, an unmistakable indication that he would be monitoring your movements for the rest of the evening.

Or more precisely, conducting surveillance on Rose and anything she might be entangled in.

Yes. Your boyfriend undoubtedly owed you a significant explanation.

Your time at the nightclub happened to be a lot more enjoyable than you had predicted. Hal was undeniably gifted, boasting a star-worthy voice and a charismatic presence that drew people in. The audience was amazed, absorbed in his performance and thoroughly entertained. He deserved all the applause and exuberant whistles he received upon the completion of his display.

Hal was too talented for that diminutive stage. You could picture him on a much grander platform, performing and singing for the world to see.

You saw Rose step out to make a call at one point, and Lyta later told you that she had bumped into Gilbert outside the club and decided to go home, as jet lag was taking its toll on her. Her prolonged absence was starting to stoke your worry, but the text she sent to Lyta didn't hint at any particular disquietude.

And Matthew was nowhere to be seen.

Barely able to keep your eyes open, you hurriedly undressed and slipped into your comfortable pajamas. You staggered towards the bathroom before returning, ultimately surrendering to the beckoning coziness of your bed. The murmurs of Hal, Ken, Barbie and Chantal echoed from the lower floor, gradually diminishing as they each withdrew to their rooms for the night.

The moment you switched off the lights and allowed your eyelids to fall, you succumbed to sleep like a lead weight, drifting off within mere seconds. It took you a while to regain lucidity as you traversed the realm of dreams, transitioning from one scenario to another drawn from your waking life. After multiple shifts in the landscape, you found yourself journeying down a path that could only lead to one destination. You walked faster, a smile playing on your lips, as you crossed the bridge suspended over the lake.

As per tradition, Able was the first to welcome you. Goldie fluttered around him as he tended to the gardens, his little wings joyfully flapping. The baby Gargoyle let out an adorable little squeak when he spotted you, propelling forward to land directly in your outstretched hands.

The warmth and hospitality of the brothers always made you feel cherished whenever you visited. They served the most exquisite tea and sweets, the likes of which you could never find in the Waking World. Goldie, comfortably nestled in your lap, clutched a bit of your dress in his tiny fist. Able and Cain continued their conversation, sharing stories of their day with you and news of something in the Dreaming that instantly piqued your interest.

Reportedly, a Vortex had emerged, prompting speculation about whether Morpheus was taking sufficient measures to address it.

“What's this Vortex everyone's talking about?" You asked. "This isn't the first time I've heard about it.”

"A Dream Vortex is a rare disturbance in the fabric of the Dreaming," Cain explained. "It materializes once in every era for reasons that remain a mystery, even to the Endless.”

"Yes, a Vortex appears as a mortal who temporarily becomes the center of the Dreaming," Able added.

"A mortal? You mean, like a human being?”

They both shrugged at the same time. "That's what the dream folk say.”

You nibbled at your lower lip, apprehension creeping into your voice. "And what does it do, this Vortex? Is it dangerous?”

They shared a cautious look, probably considering what details they were allowed to disclose. Just as Able was about to respond, a booming voice called them from outside the House of Mystery. Morpheus was standing at Cain's door, his hands still at his sides, his long coat swaying in the soft breeze.

Could this have been a strategy to stop them from conversing with you, from revealing things you weren't supposed to learn?

Cain cleared his throat, hastily rose to his feet, and opened his home to the Lord of Dreams, who chose to remain outside.

"Lord Morpheus, what a surprise," Able greeted him, his tone respectful yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you care for some tea?”

"I am here for Y/N," he stated with authority. "I need to take her with me.”

Cain clenched his jaw, clearly irritated by the King's imperious manner. "But of course, my Lord.”

As you made your way out of the house, you kissed Goldie's snout and handed the baby Gargoyle back to Able. "Thank you for your company, guys.”

"It is always a pleasure, my dear," Cain responded with adoration.

"Please visit us again soon," Able called out, waving.

You gave them a nod and a broad smile, observing as they withdrew into the house and closed the door behind them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Morpheus's hand. With a subtle gesture, he silently invited you to take it.

"Come," he said, noting your bemused expression.

"Hello to you too.”

Morpheus' austere countenance cracked, giving way to the beginnings of a smile. With a barely perceptible sigh and a quiet chuckle, you grasped his cool hand and gave it a solid squeeze. His fingers immediately closed around yours as he turned, creating a sandy portal in front of you.

As soon as you stepped into it, you were immediately whisked away to his throne room. The transition was so smooth, it felt as though you hadn't moved at all.

It didn't take long for you to pick up on his distress. His retreat into silence, his reluctance to meet your gaze, and his pout resembling an aggrieved cat—these were not things you could easily overlook.

"Morpheus, can you tell me what on earth is going on?”

The Endless' eyes moved from the floor and landed on you.

"What's this whole ordeal about Rose Walker and the Dream Vortex, and why did you instruct Matthew to keep an eye on her in the Waking World?”

Given his noticeable lack of effort to keep you updated, you were uncertain of what to expect.

"Rose Walker is the Dream Vortex," he specified. "Its presence can attract the dreams of others and manipulate causality, causing a series of fateful coincidences to occur around it.”

"That's not a good thing, right…?”

"No, not if it remains uncontrolled.”

“And it is?”

“She does not pose an immediate threat, if that is what you’re asking.”

Then why did the entire situation make you feel so uncertain? Why was your instinct telling you there was much more to it?

"Morpheus, she was in my dream."

“I am aware of that.”

“But why? How?”

"Your connection to the Dreaming is extraordinarily powerful, my love. Your consciousness is awake; you come here to lead another existence, and your perception is amplified.”

He wasn't mistaken about that. Even at this moment, you were speaking to him with pristine clarity, as if you were not asleep at all. Nevertheless, witnessing your dreams intertwining with someone else's was anything but reassuring.

“Be honest with me. What are the dangers associated with a Vortex?”

"There is no necessity for you to be alarmed.”

Despite his attempts to shield you from the truth, you were determined not to let the matter rest.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

"Y/N-”

"I'm not a child, Morpheus. Whatever it is, I can deal with it.”

Was the situation really so dire that he feared it would terrify you? Or perhaps he was trying to avoid some form of harsh judgment?

“A Vortex gathering strength is capable of weakening the walls between dreams.”

Well, that did sound alarming after all.

“Can you elaborate?”

Morpheus paused, searching for the most appropriate words to convey his explanation.

"The rippling effect it would create could extend to the Waking World, with reality itself unraveling and descending into chaos.”

Your stomach churned. "Rose Walker could do that?”

“As I said, she is of no danger to my realm or yours at the current moment.”

What would be the consequences if she did, hypothetically, transform into a significant risk? What would be the fate of the Dreaming and the Waking World if the Vortex were to activate with full intensity?

"If needed, would you be capable of stopping her?”

The ensuing silence was disconcerting, and the response that you received was even worse.

"The only way to stop a Vortex would be to destroy it. As an Endless, I cannot take action against any mortal that is not an active threat.”

If your stomach was already twisted in knots before, now it felt as though it was being turned inside out.

"So, that implies you'd have to kill her? But she's just a girl... and I don't believe she even realizes what she truly is.”

She seemed so pure, filled with hope about finding her brother Jed. When you met her at the B&B, she was just as incredulous as you were to learn that you weren’t merely a figment of imagination.

"No, she does not. Tonight, when she falls asleep again, I will assist her. Together, we will search for her brother, and one of my missing nightmares.”

Your head was reeling. "Missing nightmares?”

He looked up, staring at the colorful windows above the throne. "Three of my subjects have strayed away from the Dreaming. One dream, two nightmares”

Following his line of sight, you observed the glass transforming, with each window producing a different image. The first two depicted unique individuals - a woman with blue skin and a man donning a fedora and black eyeglasses, while the third seemed to portray a lush, vibrant landscape. It took a while, but your focus returned to the second plate as it suddenly sparked a sense of recognition. Where had you seen that man before...?

And then, a light bulb went off in your mind, as you realized you had actually met him in your waking life.

"I'm sorry," you said nervously. "I should pay more attention to where I’m walking.”

"It's alright," he answered with an American accent, helping you to your feet and removing his hand so slowly that you had the impression he was trying to feel you. "The important thing is that you are okay. You didn't get hurt, did you?”

His voice was coarse and slightly deep with a note of allure. At the same time, it served to make you even more anxious in his presence.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Are you?”

The corners of his lips raised up even more, and you could see his perfectly white teeth gleaming under the sunlight.

“I am,” he nodded. “But please, let me help you.”

You remembered how he daringly stepped uncomfortably close to you. You recalled how he used the pretext of your accidental collision to invite you for a drink. He had a certain darkness about him, but you couldn't identify whether it was the thick glasses hiding his eyes or the strange aura that seemed to form around him.

"Morpheus... who is that man?”

"The Corinthian is a rogue nightmare, one that feeds on the dreamers he was supposed to serve.”

Feeds…

"Why do you ask?”

Even in your dream state, the skin on your face managed to drain of color. Had you accepted his invitation, what would he have done to you? What were the Corinthian's intentions, and was he aware of your relationship with his master? Was that a calculated scheme to ensnare you in his grasp?

Now that you reflected on it, and considering the way his hand had held you, touched you, and reluctantly let you go, you could confidently say that your encounter with the nightmare in question was anything but accidental.

"You're not going to like this,” you declared.

His fingers delicately brushed your chin, gently cradling it between his thumb and forefinger, directing your face towards his. His eyes locked onto yours once more, and his brows knitted together.

“What is it that you are keeping from me?”

Holding back your anxiety, you drew a deep breath and steeled yourself. "He was in London a few months ago. I ran into him on the street.”

If it were possible for his own complexion to turn even more ghostly, you knew it would happen at that instant. His eyes dramatically widened and darkened, and his breath became rapid as the latent anger in him began to surge. His hand dropped, suspended in mid-air.

“What?”

"It was brief, really. I was in a rush. We bumped into each other and my bag fell to the ground. He said he wanted to offer me a drink as an apology, but... he came across as a bit forceful. I declined.”

Noticing how distraught he was, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "He didn't harm me, and I haven't seen him since that day.”

“This is my fault,” he admitted. "My absense caused all this.”

"And in what way exactly are you accountable?”

"Had I been here, fulfilling my duty-"

"Oh, come on. It's not as if you took a 100-year vacation, did you?”

There it was again, that vulnerability that you felt compelled to shield. That sliver of insecurity that even he, as the King of Dreams and Nightmares, as an Endless and a being more potent than a God, could exhibit.

"If there's anyone to blame, it's Roderick Burgess for imprisoning you. And then his son, who out of fear, refused to set you free.”

The mere thought of it could still provoke your wrath.

"I cannot absolve myself simply due to a mortal's triviality.”

"Morpheus, life is a turbulent journey filled with a series of unfortunate and unpredictable circumstances. Some may call it destiny, while others might call it misfortune or casuality. Regardless of what it was, I wouldn't wish what you endured on anyone else, not even my worst enemy.”

You knew that what truly plagued him was his inability to prevent the incident, his failure to resist, allowing a mortal man driven by greed to exploit his power. But you would defy anyone to act differently, to surrender and accept the conditions set by those humans for their release, amidst the uncertainty of whether their captors would even uphold their end of the deal.

In addition to the heinous act of murdering his raven, right before his very eyes.

You clasped his hands in yours, gently caressing the backs of them with your thumbs. "Please, stop tormenting yourself.”

"Y/N, this is not-”

You silenced his words with a kiss, pressing your lips against his. “Don’t.”

When you pulled away from him, he attempted to speak again. “I-”

"No, hear me out. I am not an Endless, and I'm certainly not you. I can only understand a fraction of what you do, and I would never presume to preach about what is right and what is wrong.”

Another kiss followed, soft and sweet, akin to a peck.

“I understand that you carry the responsibility of the Dreaming and the well-being of the Waking World upon yourself, but if these dreams have left while you were imprisoned, you cannot blame yourself.”

You leaned into him and waited until his body finally succumbed, the tension slowly ebbing away. His hands traced along your back, moving up and down gently and delicately, as if you were crafted from crystal.

"Y/N, the Corinthian was created to reflect humanity’s darkest fears. He has been thriving in the Waking World far too long.”

He was frightened, petrified by the thought of what his nightmare could have inflicted upon you.

“He allowed me to leave.”

“Even so, I require Rose Walker to lead me to the Corinthian, Gault and Fiddler's Green.”

The faster he could find him, and the other two, the better it would be for the Waking World.

And for you.

"How can they elude you like this, when you are the one who brought them into existence?”

"My dreams and nightmares have a certain level of autonomy and independence from me.”

On one hand, Morpheus faced the looming disaster that the Vortex in Rose could create if allowed to expand excessively, and on the other, he needed to leverage such power to find his stray dreams and restore order in his realm. How could a single entity fullfil such a role alone?

You encircled your arms around his neck, letting out a shaky sigh that brushed against his skin. "Oh, Morpheus. I wish I could offer more than just a handful of soothing words.”

"Your words carry more power than any action taken, my love.”

You hummed against his neck, taking in the revitalizing aroma of sand, pine wood, and sea salt.

“Just… be cautious with the Vortex. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“I will ensure that no harm comes to you.”

"Yes, but it's not myself I'm worried about.”

You cupped his face, gazing at him with tear-filled eyes. "After everything you've done to reconstruct your realm, I can't stand the thought of it being ravaged again.”

He grasped your wrists, keeping them stationary and secure within his grasp. "Your regard for the Dreaming is commendable. The situation with Rose Walker is under control.”

You pursed your lips. "Well, maybe, but...”

“I will see it more clearly. Soon. For now, live your waking life without shouldering this burden.”

"That's easier said than done. Anything that puts you or your realm at risk, is not something I can simply ignore.”

Then, it was Morpheus who surprised you with a kiss, delicate and feather-light, coaxing your eyes closed as your body relaxed in his arms. It was his way of indicating that he didn't want you to obsess over it, or to overanalyze something that might not even happen in the first place.

You felt your surroundings vanish, dissolving into a puff of black dust, and his fingertips traced down your neck until they rested over your pendant, which glowed and bathed you in its blue luminescence.

His voice echoed, sounding like a distant illusion. "This dream is over.”

The next morning, you were up and active at an early hour, seated at the table with your orange juice on one side, the laptop bustling with work on the other, and your sketchbook open in front of you. Hal continued to express his pride in having such a talented artist like yourself in his house, anticipating nothing but exceptional outcomes from your collaboration with Andrew.

Rose arrived with a hefty stack of freshly printed posters, featuring an old photograph of her younger self standing alongside her brother Jed. The heading was written in bold red letters, stating "Have you seen this boy?" and was accompanied by a description of the little Walker, along with Rose's contact information. Barbie was ecstatic, grabbing a pile of posters to distribute around, while Ken was far from thrilled about it. Although he put on a smile and pretended to be in agreement, you could tell how bothersome such a task was for his vain personality. You didn't think you could dislike him more, but given his obvious lack of empathy, how could it be otherwise?

Zelda and Chantal also offered to take some, serving as clear evidence that appearances can be deceiving, with the two of them being far more compassionate than a man flaunting his material wealth. You would happily spend your day in their company, surrounded by their stuffed spiders, rather than endure even five minutes in the presence of that man.

Hal assured Rose that he would be more than happy to accompany her to hand out the flyers, and although you had little time to be outdoors, you took a handful yourself to make your own contribution.

Lyta was not present, still fast asleep in the room she shared with Rose. As soon as you heard that, somehow, the knot in your stomach made an abrupt return.

Curious.

In the early afternoon, with the house practically devoid of company, you had all the tranquility and calm required to focus on your work. The initial sketches were already done and delivered, and Andrew had sent you merely a few notes for alterations, while the majority of what you had crafted even exceeded his expectations.

According to him, your creative prowess was unparalleled. You had reached a point where your work came effortlessly, and you could generate an original idea in a blink, without having to discard any crumpled drafts. However, you knew that a part of it was attributable to the second life you led in your dreams.

As you composed the day's final email, Lyta made her presence felt in the living room, radiating an odd sense of exhaustion. She bore no resemblance to the woman you had met the previous night, and for a moment, you wondered if she was unwell, which could explain her absence at breakfast. She dismissed it casually, attributing it to the travels she and Rose had embarked upon in the past few days. You noticed that she was getting ready to leave, mentioning her intention to revisit the Foster Agency to convince the woman there to conduct a comprehensive check on Jed Walker. Apparently, the agency refused to disclose Jed's location to Rose due to her unstable financial situation, leading her to print all those flyers in a desperate attempt to at least locate and speak to her brother. You admired Rose's persistence, and appreciated Lyta's efforts to support her friend.

You had gleaned from Hal and the others' penchant for small talk and gossip that she had once been married, but had tragically lost her husband not too far in the past. The revelation caused a pang in your heart, as you could only imagine the profound grief Lyta must be grappling with after losing the one she loved.

And you committed the colossal blunder of imagining yourself in her shoes.

If you were to lose Morpheus, you would feel as if the earth was being swept from beneath your feet, your soul being torn and scattered into a thousand pieces, your breath being sucked out to the point of suffocation. Having been with the Lord of Dreams for just a few months, you shuddered at the enormity of the loss after so many years. After marriage. After laying out a shared future together.

Fortunately, Andrew had scheduled a meeting in the late afternoon, aiming to give you a glimpse of the seaside while further discussing and refining the project. Stepping out of the house would serve as a distraction, helping you to disengage from the persistent, looming sense of foreboding and any other intrusive thoughts you could do without.

Since you had some time to spare before the meeting, you squeezed in a bit of shopping, including picking up some souvenirs for your dear ones, and to take a breather at a nearby cafe. You had brought along Rose's flyers with you and were pleased to see a few of them were picked up within mere minutes.

As you waited for your coffee to cool down to a more palatable heat, you browsed through your phone, responding to the pending texts and emails. Even without you in the office, things at Corbyn&Jones were progressing smoothly, though you were sorely missed by all. The online shop continued to record a surge in sales, and the company's account on social media, managed by Freya, had experienced a significant increase in engagement and views.

A smile graced your lips as you sipped your beverage. Seeing your creations featured in those promotional photos felt surreal - a tangible realization of your dreams.

The waiter briefly stopped at your table, setting down a glass of what appeared to be a Black Russian Cocktail that you hadn't ordered. You watched in silence, giving the young man a questioning glance, only for him to promptly turn on his heels and walk away.

"Excuse me," you called out. "This drink isn't mine.”

The waiter grinned amusedly. "Oh, it's not a mistake. That gentleman over there ordered it for you.”

For a moment, you remained still in thought as the waiter moved on to another table, your gaze fixed on the dark liquid in your glass, mirroring the overhead lights. When you raised your head and glanced at the counter, you noticed a man in a light grey jacket with blond hair comfortably seated on one of the stools. But the moment he turned around to face you, wearing a sly smile and raising his own glass in a mock toast, a rush of sheer terror gripped you.

There, just a few strides away, was the same man you had encountered in London - none other than the Corinthian himself, Morpheus' wayward nightmare.

And it took every ounce of your resilience not to flee, to put as much distance as possible between you and that creature, before he could even consider approaching you.

But when he rose, downed the remainder of his drink, adjusted the collar of his jacket and started heading in your direction, you realized it was too late to take any appropriate action, or even contemplate one.

And as he took a seat in front of you, assuming the guise of a man who enjoyed socializing, you were acutely aware that beneath the facade, he was simply a beast eyeing its quarry.

Regardless of his true intentions, all you could do was hope that, with the safeguard of your necklace and perhaps a generous measure of luck, you could hold out long enough to make it to your scheduled appointment with Andrew.

Preferably alive and whole.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 18 (coming soon) ->

#the sandman #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader

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aurorafables · 5 months

Text

From the Grey, Chapter 1.

Let's get is started. :) I'm very excited, and I hope you will like it bc I loved to write it.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic

Word Count: 4.2k

Cross-posted: AO3

Author's note: This was originally written in Hungarian, and I'm still looking for a proofreader, so please forgive me the mistakes, strange expressions. Hope it's still enjoyable. Let me know, what do you think. :) Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts :)

Summary: In Noah's life, his best friend was the light, the way out of the abuse he suffered at home. After a childhood full of trauma, in which he was stripped of his wings so many times, he moves in with Nick, whose goal is to let him fly. The band, Bad Omens, led by Noah, begins to soar, which brings at least as many problems as joy. As teenagers grow into men, Noah and Nick drift closer and closer to each other, and the boundaries of friendship and love completely merge.

Chapter 1.

It would be difficult to say exactly when it started. It was as if the dynamic between the two of us had completely changed without being noticed. I could compare it to when I'm doing a tattoo and I want to create a nice color gradient to make the design look as realistic as possible. The point is that you can't tell where one color ends and the other color begins. Even between us, the transition from wanting to hug him in a friendly way to kissing him passionately was imperceptible.

Maybe I woke up like that one day, but it's also possible that the desire had been brewing in me for weeks, months, years, I just blocked it deep down. And what if I felt that little spark the first time we met, but I was still almost a child and couldn't identify it? I have to start this story somewhere. And like most fairy tales, it didn't start well. The mood of the whole band was cast by melancholy over the loss of a friend. But like all dead artists, Keaton remained immortal. His voice will live forever on the records, despite the fact that he was not with us anymore. The music of Too Close To Touch mingled with the cohesive low murmur of the crowd outside in the club's concert hall, where Keaton's vocals echoed painfully through the walls. "Death is not a game with the ones I hold close She was mine, mine, you can't deny Three years is too quick to die"* All his anger, all his pain were in the song he wrote about his little sister, who died lying on a hospital bed. In the text, he blamed God for choosing little Eiley over him. The poor boy had no idea at the time that they were both chosen… Personally, I would have liked to break something if I remembered that he was gone now, and I could only reassure myself that maybe they were already up there together. If it even exists up there. Because what if up there is actually only two meters underground?

The song didn't come at the best moment, because we had to go on stage right after, and I might be able to hide my mood in front of the audience… I glanced at Noah and my heart sank when I saw him banging his head against the wall, clutching the microphone in his hand, next to the stage, which we will soon have to walk up to. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, which I completely forgot to do in parallel. I was so worried about him. I knew he'd hate himself for that if his voice cracked while singing the opening lines of The Death Of Peace Of Mind. His maximalism was what he could torture himself with the most. Also, he had to be up there alone at the beginning of the song, we didn't join until later. I walked to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder, but I still managed to scare him a little because he pulled away before he opened his eyes. When he saw me, he almost snuggled back into my hand. It reminded me of my very first cat, the little black ball of fur I found on the street when I was barely ten. I named him Dusk because of his color and when he came to us I did everything I could to fatten him up. We slept together in my bed at night, because his soft purr always lulled me to sleep quickly. It was amazing how much Dusk and Noah were alike. Even in the semi-darkness next to the stage, my best friend's dark brown eyes glistened with unshed tears, which he tried to quickly blink away. His shoulders slumped forward in the thin linen jacket, and I'd bet his fingers were white under the faux-leather glove he wore on his left hand, clutching the microphone like a lifeline. He and Keaton were very close. In the last two years, they spent a lot of time together, especially during and after the Covid epidemic, when it was possible to travel. Even when they were far away, they kept in touch on a daily basis. Keaton was good with all of us, but he had a stronger bond with Noah. He wanted to remember him by playing their songs during the break after our opening band, but Eiley's song has never come at such a bad time.

“We can extend the time for five more minutes,” I told him, and meanwhile I looked back at Jolly, who was still fiddling with his headphones with the help of a sound technician, and Folio was deep in his own thoughts drumming on the wall, sometimes doing shoulder circles as a warm-up. "Everything's fine," Noah replied in a weak voice, to which I nodded hesitantly, lowered my hand, and took a step back. "I'm worthless to the world You're innocent and pure God, why didn't you choose me over her?”* They signaled to Noah, who gave a thumbs up as if everything was fine. Nonsense. I knew nothing was okay. Keaton's voice faded outside and soon the intro to our song began. I looked down at my guitar and after stretching my fingers I strummed a few chords just to pass the time. When Noah walked out and the crowd cheered, he wasn't as lost as he had been two minutes ago. He immediately filled the stage and sang like a fucking siren without faltering. I shook my head, feeling a little angry at myself for constantly underestimating him. It was about time to get used to that Noah wasn't ruined by all the crap that happened around him. On the contrary, it only strengthened him even more.

Two months later, I was sitting on the steps of the tour bus in Phoenix, beer in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other, when I heard Noah's footsteps behind me. After a concert he liked to clear his head, so I thought he was going for his usual walk and I thought that I could join. I stood up to let him go, and when he stepped next to me, I was hit by the smell of his perfume. He had just stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his pants, so I began to suspect that he had other plans for that evening. “Karin is in the city,” he said to me, but he didn't look at me, just watched the night lights. The blue neon lights of the bar glistened on the brunette's hair, and the tattoos running down his arms coiled around his skin like snakes. I thought I still had time. I thought I could figure something out before they met again in Salt Lake City. I blew out the last of the smoke, extinguished the butt, then slipped out of my denim jacket and held it out to him. “We will leave in the morning, be here by then.” Noah hesitantly took my jacket and looked at me. “That's it?” he asked in disbelief. I don't know what he expected. Maybe to remind him again that woman is crazy like hell? "I'm tired," I confessed to him. ”I can't save you from someone whose arms you keep running into. But I can do something to save you from catching a cold,” I gestured towards the jacket. He still didn't move, even though the situation was becoming more and more pressing for me, and the spring night wasn't nearly warm enough to keep me from getting goosebumps. I wrapped my arms around myself and hobbled in place. I kicked small stones with my boots on the asphalt of the parking lot and waited. I didn't care if I froze there, I wouldn't leave Noah alone as long as he needed me. The boys' laughter could be heard from inside the bus, a car honked on the street not far from us. I raised my head and immediately met a pair of dark eyes. Stared. I don't know how long or why. I swear he didn't even blink. Then he reached out and touched my arm under the sleeve of my shirt. “You are cold.” I blinked a few times, then started to move. I took the jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “But you don't have to be cold,” I answered him with an encouraging smile. “Everything will be okay. I will be okay,” he said quietly and gloomily. I don't know which of us he wanted to convince with this, but it didn't work. The smile immediately melted off my face. “Noah…” It's been a long time since my voice sounded so desperate when I said his name. I think all my fear must have been on my face because Noah took a step back and shook his head. I was ready to try again to get him to stay. We could have done so many things. From walking to sitting down to play video games with the boys. Or we could have gone to a nightclub to drink and to flirt with girls. Whatever, just don't let that cunt touch him again… He brushed his hair back and shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have to go, Nick. We will talk in the morning.” And that was it. There was nothing I could do to keep him there.

I got home from the tattoo salon late that night and was so tired that all I could think about was my bed. But as soon as I stepped through the door, the strong smell of weed hit me. It went through the small apartment so intensely that I almost got sick of it. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I kicked off my shoes, dropped my bag on the floor, and headed for the bedroom with the goal of scolding Noah. The door was not locked on the little hole we called the bedroom, which was completely filled with my bed and the mattress that Noah had been sleeping on for months. When I entered, he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin, and he was holding a weed cigarette between his long, thin fingers. As if he had completely forgotten about it, the ash fell onto my blanket and I was amazed that it hadn't caught fire yet. Noah didn't even notice I got home because he was listening to music on his earphones, and I was sure he was just physically in the room by the way he looked. I leaned towards him, took the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it in the ashtray. With that, I finally drew attention to myself, because after he looked up at me tensely, with red eyes. The Asian features of his face came to life, which normally I would have stared in fascination, but this was not a normal case. I forgot I wanted to yell at him for wasting the weed and almost setting our apartment on fire. Because by then we both owned that little flat. In the corner, next to my guitar, there was also his. Noah's things appeared in the bathroom, his shampoo, his toothbrush, he got half of my wardrobe and sometimes half of my bed… His clothes were just as messily scattered as mine, and he already had his favorite mug, from which he preferred to sip his coffee in the morning. I wanted to think that his eyes were red from smoking weed, but when he spoke, I had no doubt that he must have been crying for hours.

"I thought you'd come home earlier today," he said in a nasal tone after stopping the music and taking out his earphones. In the meantime, I opened the window without holding him responsible for why he did not do so. “I thought so too,” I answered him, then I fell down on the bed next to him. ”Another guest came at seven, and thought I would do miracles in two hours with an old, messed-up tattoo.” Noah nodded, then slowly stretched out his infinite legs. He was only sixteen then, but already a little taller than me. We sat speechless for a while and looked at each other. I was even more overcome by fatigue, and for a moment my eyes were probably closed too long while blinking, because I was jolted when Noah moved next to me. He took a deep breath, then let it out shakily. Our tattooed arms touched and I could feel the tremors running through his bones as he reached for his phone. Oh my god, he was so skinny. If I touched his arms, I was afraid I would crush him as if his limbs were made of thin glass fibers. “I got a message,” he whispered into the dimness, then put the phone on my thigh. I picked it up with a scared heart and started reading. I had a guess of what it might be, and honestly… I just didn't understand why it didn't come sooner. At first, Noah's mother tried to lure her son back to her side with sweet, but poisoned words, which in the end turned into mere threats. Every fucking word she wrote made me feel nauseous. “After half a year, she remembered that she had an underage son. Maybe she expects some kind of reward for it?” I asked, but mostly I meant it as a poetic question.

Noah tensed up next to me and started breathing faster. “I… I can't go back there. If… if you say I have to go back to her, I… rather… I…” "Hey Noah, I would never say that," I turned to him and tried to speak in the most soothing voice possible. But I was too late… By that time, tears were already falling, and he was clutching the crumpled bottom of his two-size-larger shirt. I was totally in shock because I had never seen anything like this before. What kind of friend is who doesn't recognize that the problem is so big? Noah was an old soul with a lot of shit and loss behind him, who blended in perfectly with the adults, so I tended to forget that he was still just a kid. But now there was a child next to me who was terrified. Whom fear brought out the worst. "I shouldn't be here," he said between sobs, to which I shook my head so fast that my hair hit my cheek. I knelt on the bed, turned to face him and tried to remove his fingers from his clothes. I just wanted to hold his hand… I just wanted him to know I was with him. “Noah…No! Don't tell me this!” I protested loudly, but he didn't listen to me. It's like he didn't even hear what I said. Instead, he drove himself deeper and deeper into madness. “I should have died a long time ago…years ago.” If he had only stabbed a dagger into my stomach with his words, this was the moment he twisted it. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. Noah snapped his head back hard and his skull hit the wall loudly. After that, I couldn't focus on my own panic anymore, without thinking I put my hand on his head to protect him from himself. I didn't care that I might not be able to tattoo. My fingers ached as they met the hard wall, but I didn't really notice the pain. All I cared about was Noah and how I could keep him safe. I've been trying to figure out how to fix this. His cries and animalistic whining still ring in my ears, mixed with the sound of my heart's frantic beating. I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him close as he just cried and cried, his tears completely soaking my shirt. He was hugging my thighs as I knelt next to him, finally not wanting to hurt himself anymore.

That night, I only left his side when I brought him water from the kitchen. Then we both got into bed and Noah turned to face me, but half of his red face from crying was hidden in the pillow and the other half was covered by his hair. I quickly got rid of my tight jeans, threw them on the side of the bed and took his phone in my hand. He was watching what I was doing, but he didn't speak. First, without any guilt, I deleted his mother's message, then opened his music. It didn't surprise me that he was listening to Castle Of Glass by Linkin Park when I got home. I flipped through the playlist and started our favorite song As Cities Burn after giving him one of the earbuds. "Won't you come down, heaven. Won't you come down? Won't you cut through the clouds? Won't you come down?”** At the first chorus, he already closed his eyes, and only then did I allow myself to relax a little. I carefully reached towards him, smoothed the strands falling from his face behind his ears, and then I closed my eyes too. I begged myself to fall into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, when we woke up, Noah helped me untangle the earbuds’ cord from my hair. We parted laughing, shoving a piece of toast into our mouths. He went to a band rehearsal, and I went to a place that has become my second home, the tattoo salon. My fingers got away with it quite well, with a small bruise on one of the joints, which only started to hurt a little towards the end of the day. We didn't discuss anything else about that night. Maybe I regret it since then, but what can I say? I was just a scared kid too, too stupid to help his friend more. Noah's mother died less than two months later. I didn't feel for a minute that she was a loss to the world.

He has become a grown man since and he doesn't need me to protect him from the world. I watched motionless as he walked down the street to get into a taxi. His tall, thin figure disappeared around the corner and I could finally get my legs moving. I got on the bus, grabbed a new bottle of beer from the fridge and joined the others. Folio showed Matt some funny videos and Jolly typed a message on his phone. I sat next to him on the couch and started reading the news. "He won't be able to do this for long," said Jolly next to me in a strong Swedish accent. When it was late and he was tired, he didn't pay so much attention to speaking English with perfect pronunciation. But there's nothing wrong with that, we've been working together for so long, and we've been friends for so long that we understand each other with half a word. “What do you mean?” I turned to him. I slipped out of my boots, slid off the couch, and put my feet up on the small table. I rested my head on the backrest and wiped the steam from the side of the glass with my thumb. “For Noah's secret night meetings. Matt had told him before when saw that he wanted to go out on the town all by himself.” “It doesn't happen that often. And it's not a secret where he's going, he told me he was meeting Karin,” I took him to my defense immediately. “Anyway, why can't he go? The fans had left for an hour, no one was out there. And it's not that he hit the town on foot. He called a taxi.” “That girl is strange,” Jolly grimaced. You do not say.. “When she came to our place, Noah wasn't quite himself.” Recently, I felt guilty for not trying to stop him more firmly, but I reminded myself: Noah pointed out rather angrily during an argument about this that I can't protect him from everything. "If a little fuck puts him in a better mood, we're all fine with that," Folio interjected when Matt left us alone. Maybe I gave him a nasty look from behind my beer bottle, because he held his hands up defensively. I took another sip, then realized I didn't even want the beer. I put the bottle on the table, brushed my teeth in our small bathroom, and went to sleep. At least I wanted to sleep, but I must have been tossing and turning for another hour.

It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when something started to tingle my nose. I brushed it off at first, but then Noah's soft chuckle crept into my consciousness. I groaned then pulled the pillow over my head planning to go back to sleep. I kicked the blanket off because I was hot, and it turned out, it was a big mistake. Ice cold fingers touched my side, the muscles in my stomach jumped and I let out a muffled moan. “Fuck me!” I grumbled hoarsely as I caught Noah's hand, who was just putting the other one in front of my mouth. "Shh, the others are still sleeping," he whispered excitedly with sparkling eyes. “I want to sleep too,” I answered after pulling his hand away from my mouth. “Come on, Nick. I'm hungry. I want breakfast.” “Why can’t you eat?” “Missing your company.” I sighed. “Go to the kitchen. Give me five minutes and I'll be there.” "If I leave you here, you'll go back to sleep," he said accusingly, as if he had every right not to let me go back to sleep. “And I would go a little further for breakfast than the bus kitchen. But I promise, it's worth it. You will love the place.” Another sigh, but I sat up with half-closed eyes, then pulled on a pair of pants and a thick hoodie. My jacket was still on him and he didn't seem like he wanted to give it back.

After five minutes, Noah got off the bus energetically, and I, wrapped in my hoodie, got off the bus grumpily. It was just dawn, around half past six. Noah finally slowed his steps and stopped in front of me, facing me. My hair would have been a complete disaster, not to mention the pillow creases on my face, or my eyes, which I could barely keep open. "You're sweet when you are sleepy," he said finally. He looked at me with a smile, then pulled the hood over my head and did the same with his own. ”I don't want to be recognized.” “Come on! Who would be awake this early?” I asked sarcastically, yawning into my palm. We walked down the street and luckily he was right, we really didn't have to walk far before we got to the breakfast place. Too tired to read the sign, I just entered the small but friendly coffee shop and sighed as I was greeted by a pleasant warmth inside. I said hello to the gray lady behind the counter. When I saw the first cat, licking its paws on a chair, I turned to Noah questioningly, who just shrugged. "I thought you missed your little monsters," he said. A big smile spread across my face. A cat café. I was already less sleepy when I crouched next to the kitten and let him sniff my hand. Then I noticed even more hairballs and I didn't even know which one to go to. Meanwhile, Noah ordered us coffee and breakfast at the counter. I heard the old lady laughingly answer him when asked why they were open so early: “If the kittens wake up, why can't I open the cafe?”

I smiled as I scratched the head of a calico sitting next to the wall, and we blinked at each other for a long time. After ordering, Noah came over and sat next to me. "The chick likes you," he remarked when the kitten was placed on my lap. “What kind of chick? She is a lady here,” I caressed the hairy ears. Laughing softly, Noah leaned forward and, using the kitten etiquette he'd learned from me, introduced himself to our newest friend before petting her. Now that the hood was off his head, I noticed the bite marks on his neck. The dark red spot was located right on the border between his tattoo and his bare skin so that it was just noticeable. I swallowed, tore my gaze from his neck, and reassured myself that Noah didn't seem as lost now as he did after most of his meetings with Karin. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she finally realized what she had to lose? Noah's fingers accidentally touched mine in the kitten's soft fur, and we smiled at each other as the furball began to purr loudly. I haven't seen Noah this happy since before Keaton's death. Maybe Karin isn't so bad after all? We ate breakfast sitting on the floor with a cat each in our laps and had to run back to the bus before departure.

*Too Close To Touch - Eiley **As Cities Burn - Contact

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