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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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Eddie x fem! reader [vol i, vol ii, vol iii, vol iv]

⚠️trigger warnings: mentions of a exual assault, accusations, mentions of domestic abuse, teenage drinking, panic attacks etc

w/c: 7.9k

a/n: s/o to all my favorite people helping me continuously with this series! @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington !! 💋💋💋💋💋

You’re spinning, spinning, spinning. If you couldn’t smell your own hair products on your pillow, you would swear that you were in a dystopian world, twirling like a frisbee through a pink blossomed sky and being caught in a three headed cat's mouth.

It’s true, hangovers get worse with age, but you were only twenty one— and they’re supposed to go up from here? What happened to ‘the best years of your life’? Whoever said that should be shot and killed on site. Stupid bastard.

Opening your eyes seems like the worst idea you could do, so you don’t. You slowly let your other senses bring you back to reality. You recognized that you were in your bed. Something soft is wrapped around you and judging by the feel of the fabric between your fingers it’s your robe.

A pungent smell of sour bile presents on your breath, one whiff of it and it’s instantaneous: vomit.

Fuck, that would explain the burning in your throat and the graveling dry sensation in your mouth

Pieces of the puzzle that was last night start fitting into place in your mind.

The drinks. The shots. The food. The clinking sound of ice in Steve’s Bloody Mary as he tipped it back and the ice swam towards his teeth, is like nails on a chalkboard.

Oh Christ how there had been so many drinks. Damn Robin and her mischievous ideas for wanting to do shots. Memories of the fiery tingle of the top shelf vodka Steve insisted on having, hitting your lips is enough to make you pass out.

The hollow feeling in your stomach gets queasy as you remember the greasy bar food served at Louie’s. Your stomach quenches, clutching around itself, ridding its salmon colored lining of the disastrous evening.

But nothing comes up. Just heaving dryly in your bed as tears escape your eyelids and your feet hit the floor. Throwing your body into a whirlwind of dizzy flips— your brain swimming in a sea of Diet Coke and Malibu, membranes bursting with the carbonated bubbles.

You’ve never needed a toothbrush more than you do right at this very second. You stand and the world feels like its raging war on your head. Pulsing and throbbing, like a concert was playing in your head and the guitar solo never ended.

You open your door and are met with the thought of how the fuck did you get here last night? Fuck it, you’d ask questions later, for now you needed to empty your bladder and brush your teeth.

As soon as you lay a hand on the bathroom door, Eddie emerges from his bedroom. Sweatpants are riding dangerously low on his hips and purpling hickies decorate his neck. He’s rubbing his eyes but when he catches sight of you he smiles lazily.

“Holy hell,” Eddie quips, eyes scanning over your body. You robe is hanging loosely off one shoulder, it’s crooked but the tie is in place covering your lower half. They land on the wild mess of hair atop your head, “normally I’d say good morning but it’s—“ he leans back into his room to look at his alarm clock, chuckling at the realization, “—two in the afternoon.”

You don’t fight Eddie for the shower, too tired and weak to argue. You fumble through the medicine cabinet finding the ibuprofen and the Disney cup with the swirly straw on the sink, filling it and taking the slick coated medicine. Swallowing harshly, your throat still raw and aching.

You settle for brushing your teeth while Eddie is in the shower. He’s singing Teen Spirit and getting louder and louder. The circles of the vigorous brushing of your teeth mixed with Eddie’s singing are making your head pound. A long look in the mirror leaves you suddenly feeling embarrassed, as if you needed to look drop dead gorgeous at every single minute you’re around him.

What the hell is going on?

“Please,” you beg, spitting the last bit of toothpaste into the sink, “for the love of everything holy— stop.”

The screeching noise of the shower curtain rings being pulled back pull your head up as you see Eddie half naked, torso covered in soap and your loofah in his hand, the dripping curls on his head turned to long waves with the weight of the water.

“Don’t act like I don’t sing like an angel, sweetheart,” he says with a wink, “besides, lying is not good for your health.”

The suds are traveling south, further and further and further downward, your eye fixated on one particular bubble as it pops right at his belly button.

You train your eyes on his, your cheeks heat from your staring. You reach up and shut the curtain.

“I wasn’t saying you sound bad—I just feel like my head is going to implode.”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “want me to sing you a lullaby? I’d put your baby ass to sleep just like I did last night.”

A million different scenarios flood your mind of what happened last night.

Did you kiss him? You remembering staring at his lips, the soft pillowy pinks, the way his tongue peak—

Oh fuck.

Are the hickies on his neck from you? His Adam apple bobs as he swallowed.

Shit.

Did you sleep together? Blankets, over your head.

What the fuck?

Where are your pants? You can’t even remember what pants you were wearing.

Where’s your car? Did you drive home?

Did Eddie pick you up from the bar?

Did he see you puke? You faintly remember puking on the floor of the front seat of a vehicle.

Your head continues to spin as you sit on the edge of the closed toilet seat. Suddenly feeling violated and disgusting.

“Tooty?” Eddie’s voice rings out.

This time you’re the one throwing open the curtain. Ignoring him as he shields himself with your loofah and his arm. “Jesus Chr—!“

“How fucking dare you!”

“What?!”

“You fucking pig, how could you do that to me!”

“Do what!” Eddie yells back

Your tossing shampoo bottles and bars of soap at his naked body, he’s surprisingly agile, dodging every one.

“How could you sleep with me when I was that drunk?! Jesus Christ I can’t believe you! Why would you do that to me?!”

Tears well in your eyes, you can’t believe that someone you once trusted, and were getting used to trusting again, after only being able to confide in three people over the last five years, would do something so vile, so fucking awful.

“After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since I was a kid Eddie! I get drunk one time and you take it upon yourself to forc— “

“Tooty!” Eddie hollers, turning the water off to the shower and stepping around you out of the way to grab a towel, he wraps it around his waist and turns to face you again.

“I didn’t do anything to you.” His eyes are wild but filled with hurt, he lowers his voice, and backs away from you. “If you don’t believe me, call Harrington. I talked to him after I carried your drunk puking ass to your own bed last night!”

“Then where are my pants?! If you ‘didn’t do anything to me’ where are my pants at?!” Eddie heads into the kitchen and pulls the short overalls you were wearing off the back of a chair, still damp from the wash. He tosses them towards you and they land at your feet.

“I washed them because you barfed all over them and I thought you would appreciate them being cleaned instead of in a vomit covered ball on the bathroom floor!”

Your accusations sting his eyes, and burn his nose.

You blink rapidly and rack your brain, the blurry sight of Steve’s car covered in puke comes into view. You struggling to get your clothes off alone in the bathroom. One? Or maybe two girls yelling at him as his back is turned to you, Eddie’s honey dripped voice talking to you as you throw up into the toilet, cheek nestled against the seat. And finally, the feel of his chest on your cheek as he carries you to your room, arms and hands never touching you inappropriately.

Before you can apologize Eddie is thrusting the cordless phone into your palm, Steve’s voice faintly heard from the speaker. He turns with a huff and not another look towards you as he slams his bedroom door shaking the frame.

Shutting your bedroom door, Eddie hangs his head, his forehead and one palm on the door, a small smile gracing his lips. His head is spinning, he’s not drunk, in fact he only had one beer tonight, right before their set started.

What is this feeling inside of him? Butterflies in his stomach? Nah, that shit was juvenile. He could only pray that it was indigestion, nothing a couple gulps from a Pepto Bismol bottle couldn’t fix. But he couldn’t deny it.

The instinctual gut feeling of needing to protect you rang true all day. He was ready to fight everyone and anyone who talked ill of you. He just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t felt this protective of someone since his own mother. He didn’t even feel this way towards Chrissy, and they dated for almost a year.

He pulls his head from the door, wondering if he should have put you on your side so if you vomited in your sleep you wouldn’t choke. He shakes his head, removing his hand slowly down your door, letting his fingers hang to his side.

What is this? Why is he acting like a parent? He rubs his eyes and turns to go to bed, your wadded up overalls in his peripheral vision. Would it be weird? Him washing your clothes? It’s not like your panties were in here it was just the overalls. He could be a good guy, he could be a decent human being, for you— he’d be it all.

Stomping down the dingy, murky basement steps he quickly throws your overalls into the washing machine, adding way too much powdered Era but figuring it was better than having them stink like puke. Slamming the metal lid closed with a wonky bang, he trots back up the stairs.

Stomach grumbling and realizing the only thing he had to eat all day were the poptarts he packed for work, he opens the fridge. Inside sitting on a shelf is a fading spaghetti stained Tupperware, on the lid is a sticky note, and written in your beautiful loopy handwriting:

“Got off work early and made the Tater tot casserole. Warm it up in the microwave for a minute thirty, hope you had a good show tonight. -T ”

You didn’t always love when your clients canceled last minute, it meant money gone from your pocket and an annoying increasing anxiety building in your gut when bills showed up. But today, you could actually enjoy the sun's rays on your shoulders for a bit as you drove down the streets of Hawkins, stopping at Bradleys Big Buys to get a pound of ground beef and a can of cream of mushroom soup.

Pushing the cart through the aisles you found the two items you came for, hoping to make it home early so that you could make the casserole before Eddie played tonight, or maybe he could enjoy it when he got home.

Cooking for someone was a labor of love, the simplest act of kindness anyone could offer. That’s what Karen Wheeler had taught you when she would spend her Saturday’s teaching you and Nancy how to cook good hearty meals that would last a while so you wouldn’t starve in college.

“And someone enjoying the food you cook? Girls, that’s the best feeling in the world.”

She wasn’t lying. Even that first week with the lasagna when Eddie had basically came in his pants with every bite, you felt a skip in your chest.

It was the least you could do after he gave you a sense of calm whenever he was around. You didn’t trust many people. Not after what happened. In fact Nancy, Steve and Robin were the only people you could put any sort of hope in.

After browning the ground beef with an chopped onion and mixing the canned ingredients together, you season the mixture with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. One last wipe around the bowl with your spatula and it was good to go. Spreading the mixture into a greased 9 x 13 inch pan and added shredded cheese, you line the tater tots across in horizontal rows and toss it in the oven, covering the dish with tinfoil.

Steve confirms everything that had happened. Even down to the minor details of you calling him ‘Steeb’. You feel stupid. Your stomach sank when he said that Eddie had stayed up all night making sure your overalls were clean and that you weren’t choking on your vomit.

“He’s a good dude, Tooty,” he explains, “he’s a perv and a complete douche most of the time, but he would never in a million years do that to someone, especially you.”

“…I know.”

“But do you?” Steve prods, “you said so yourself that he kinda looked out for you, almost better than your own brother did.”

“He did— but that’s just because I was with Chrissy’s brother and he was dating Chrissy.”

“That doesn’t matter, what does matter is that he’s a good guy— someone trustworthy. Make it right.”

With that Steve hung up.

You sit on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like a big pile of shit for what you did. Eddie wouldn’t understand. How could he? You blatantly accused him of doing something that you know in your heart and in your soul that he never could have done. Tears drop from your eyes and into your palms. You allow yourself to cry, something you hated doing, for a few minutes. Angry with yourself for the wrong that you did, but also hurting from the past. When your eyes were puffy and snot was sliding from your nose, you call it quits. Fanning your face you realize you still haven’t taken a shower yet this morning.

Making your way to the bathroom, you turn your head towards Eddie door, Steve was right, you needed to fix this.

But how?

The shower was exactly what you needed. The scald from the water was helping ooze the booze from your pores as your dehydrated body soaked it up. Eddie didn’t deserve your harsh words, your accusatory statements, the way his face fell in horror when you screamed at him was burned into your memories, something you saw whenever your eyes were closed. You sit on the floor of the shower. You couldn’t tell him what was going on, you were stronger than that. You didn’t need his sympathy, his pity parade, you would get through this on your own just like you always had. You may have been wrong and and you should probably apologize but you dismiss the idea. What the hell does Steve Harrington know about it?

Eddie bangs on the door, bringing you back to reality.

“What?” You holler out.

“Hurry up so we can go get your car before you accuse me of stealing that too.” His voice is angry and hurt. Finishing up in the shower you leave the bathroom to see an impatient Eddie huffing around the living room, looking at his empty wrist as if he wore a watch and throwing his hands in the air.

“Christ will you hurry the fuck up? I’ve got places to be.”

“Oh fucking relax,” you pout, slamming your door and toweling off. You settle for a pair of denim shorts and a cotton t-shirt. When you reach for the comb to untangle your hair you hear obnoxious honking.

He wouldn’t.

Eddie is sitting in the van laying on the horn. Grabbing your ratty white keds you fly through the house, grabbing your purse and combing your hair as you fling yourself through the door. The pavement is hot on your feet, an exceptionally warm day for September. The hot sun and humid temperatures are the worst mix for a hangover.

Indian summer in full swing.

“Fuck I’m right here, knock it off!” He’s staring at you with dead eyes, hand planted on the horn until you slide your ass onto the cracked leather seat.

Without another word he throws the van in reverse and reaches a hand over to your headrest twisting his body, the cut off flannel he is wearing isn’t buttoned, the powdery musk of his deodorant burns your nose.

Nothing has changed with the old van, tape decks are still littered across the dash, stumped out in the cup holder are a mountain of cigarettes and joints. Too many pine scented Little Trees hanging from the rearview doing a horrible job of hiding the smell of weed. Judas Priest screams through the speakers. You place a foot on the dash to get your shoe on when suddenly you are lurching forward. Eddie taps the brakes.

“No feet on the dash.”

You set your face in a scowl, words bitter on your tongue, “yeah, cause my shoe is really going to hurt the value of this piece of shit. I’m just putting my fucking shoe on since some asshole with a small dick complex couldn’t wait five minutes.”

A mocking chuckle escapes Eddie’s throat, “you really are such a pleasure to be around, how did I get this lucky?.”

“And you’re such a prick,” you seethe, bending over and tying your shoe, “why did you even answer my ad in the paper? All we do is fight because you fucking hate me.”

He’s had enough, slamming his foot onto the pedal, Eddie turns towards you and spits, “Do you really think of me like that? A predator? Someone who would move in with you just to violate you the second you pass out?”

“No I—“

“All the years you’ve known me, you think I’d just up and turn into a fucking rapist?!”

“Jesus Christ Eddie!“

“No, I wanna know, right now,” he turns to you, eyes angry and filled with hurt, “do you get off on this shit? Treating people like they’re nothing? Automatically assuming the worst about someone because of where they grew up? I’m not like that Tooty, I’m not like my—“ he stops himself, pushing his tongue to his cheek, “you are not the girl I knew. I don’t even fucking recognize you.”

“The girl you knew was fourteen, Eddie! My biggest problem back then was wondering who I could convince to buy Boonesfarm for the weekend rager, shit changed. I changed! I had to adapt to shit that was way out of my control. And you don’t even know half of it!”

“You’re right, I don’t and I bet if I were to ask, you wouldn’t even tell me, so fuck it, where am I going?”

“What?”

“I can’t read your mind, where is your car parked?”

You tell him. And as soon as you pull alongside Louie’s and beside your car, you realize you don’t have the keys.

“Open the door. Get out.” Eddie spits in a condescending tone.

Looking at him and smiling, with an extra side of cunt you sing, “I don’t have my keys.”

“Of fucking course.”

Lighting up a cigarette and cranking the wheel Eddie flies through Hawkins. He misses the turn on Kerley to get back home. “Missed the turn,” you announce, putting your other shoe on.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs lips tight in a line and exhaling through his nose. “Groceries.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Eddie parks, taking up for spots, a tire in each one, before the van even stops moving he’s already out and slamming the door, flicking his cigarette across the parking lot. The heat of the day already high.

Finishing lacing up your other shoe you run across the parking lot to catch up to him. He already has a cart and is whizzing through the aisles before you finally see him. Reaching into your purse you unfold the list and take a look at it.

Dunakaroos

Twizzlers

Gobstoppers

Spaghetti o’s

Bologna

Mayo— NOT MIRACLE WHIP! And no it’s not for that.

Lotion, yes for that 😉

the soft bread, not the brown one.

Carton of reds

Case of Busch Light.

Sunny D

Red kool aid

Hot dogs

Cocoa Puffs

Sliced cheese

Baby food since you think I’m a child (just kidding, don’t be mad)

whatever chips you got with that salsa the one time

My milk— not that skim shit you drink

Your milk— the skim shit

Mac n Cheese

“What kind of a fucking list is this? Most of this shit is snacks.”

“Oh for fucks sake, what are you pissed about now?” Eddie says, dumping two bags of marshmallows into the cart.

You’ve never met a twenty-six year old that ate like he was dining at Willy Wonka’s Factory every night.

“Not a single fruit or vegetable!” You say, waving the list in his face.

“I smoke green, I don’t eat it. Unless you wanna make some pot brownies, I’d eat the shit out of those.” He throws a box of brownie mix into the cart for good measure.

You yank the cart from his hands and turn around, heading back to the produce aisle. He huffs when you place a paper bag of apples neatly in the cart, whines when the bananas sit by your purse, and almost passed out when the tomatoes and a head of lettuce make their way into the cart.

“You’re such a baby! Literally an overgrown man child in the flesh.” He’s walking in front of you mimicking you and whoops! The cart may have slipped out of your hands and made a fleeting dash towards his Achilles tendon, banging against.

“Ouch, Jesus Christ!” Eddie groans under his breath, holding his leg he glares towards you, shooting daggers.

“It slipped,” you smirk.

He scoffs and turns on his heel walking away. You finish in the produce aisle, looking through the boxes of noodles and calculating what you could make for dinner this week. Eddie comes back arms full, you only see his hair sticking out on each side of the three boxes of cereal, a 10 lb ham and seven tubes of cinnamon rolls. He drops them all into the cart with a heavy thud.

After crossing everything off the list and getting a few more things despite Eddie’s protesting exhales, you have a cart full. He seems to have calmed down by the time you make it to the beer fridge, taking two thirty packs of Busch Light and putting them on the bottom of the cart, he rips the side of one of them open and takes a can out. Cracking it open in the middle of the store, downing it. The light colored lager is spilling down his chin, into the collar of his open shirt. He tosses it into a lady’s cart as she’s walking past, wiping the foam from his lips and belching loudly.

You roll your eyes, “You can’t wait until we’re home?”

“What?” He says, looking at you with a stupid grin, “I’m gonna pay for it.”

Waiting in the checkout aisle he cracks another one as he unloads the groceries onto the conveyor belt with one hand. Tossing most of the items onto the belt and grabbing another beer and chugging it. The checkout lady puts her nose in the air and huffs a disapproving grunt.

“I was thirsty.”

“You’re so imp—” your insult is cut short when your eyes sweep over him.

It had been a full two years since you had seen him last. His blonde hair was combed to the side like it always was. The blue of his icy eyes still burned holes through you like dry ice to the exposed skin. The navy blue suit jacket and white Oxford shirt with a red patterned tie and the tan khakis he was wearing suggested he was coming from a late Sunday brunch after church. Awful crippling memories of spending hours ironing those pants to make sure the creases were perfect cloud your memory, you unconsciously hold the two fingers on your left hand, the ones that held misshaped triangle burn scars.

You don’t realize that Eddie is talking or that you’ve stopped moving until the shape of his curly head shakes in front of you. Your breath is hitched in your chest, you feel small. Physically and mentally.

Two years without seeing the face that was the sole purpose of most of the fear in your life. Two years without seeing the demon grin and crazy twitch in his eye. You were frozen in place and your blood ran cold.

It was evil in its truest form. Standing in the checkout behind you— stood Chad Cunningham.

Eddie couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. Putting the grocery sacks in the cart, he turns to look in your line of vision. He doesn’t recognize him at first. But the strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes ran in the Cunningham blood. He was with a woman, who was so obviously pregnant she seemed like she was about to burst. Judging from the horrific way your eyes were bulged out of your head and the way your body was almost catatonic, Eddie figured it was time to get the fuck out of here. Reaching in his pocket for his wallet he paid the cashier and impatiently waited for the change, keeping his eyes on you.

You were trembling with fear. Not from the sudden run in with an ex but something much deeper than that. Eddie places his hands on your shoulders and looks into your eyes, “let’s go sweetheart,” he whispers gently, he crowds behind you and puts a small hand on your back, guiding you forward towards the automatic doors. Eddie keeps his head on a swivel for Chad.

The woman who was with him was waddling towards the bathroom, his eyes never leaving your body. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Chad puffed out his chest and said, “Lookin’ good honey bun, I will say though, the downgrade,” he points to Eddie, “..yikes.”

The nickname made your skin crawl. You never liked it, and he knew that. He only said it to get a rise out of you, which was successful. “See you soon,” he gloated, smiling with perfectly straight teeth, eyes never meeting his smile.

You don’t make it five feet outside before the shock wears off and the tears stream down your face in salty waves. Eddie takes control of the cart with his left hand and ushers you forward with his right, minimal pressure on the small of your back as he keeps his head on a swivel, dark curtain of curls crowding his eyes as he moves his head around.

Unlocking the doors he helps you in, buckling your seatbelt and saying he’d be back in thirty seconds. The back doors of the van fly open as Eddie all but tosses the groceries into the back. At thirty seconds exactly, Eddie is back in the van, starting it and roaring out of the parking lot.

He still didn’t know what happened with Chad, but it wouldn’t take an absolute idiot to know that it was bad. Really fucking bad. He looks over to you and your head is stuffed into your shirt, your knees under your chin and you’re rocking back and forth on the seat.

“Five minutes, Tooty— we’ll be home in less than five minutes, okay?” Eddie says, frantically. He’s trying to stay calm. Trying to be the voice of reason, composed and serene. But he is horrified. Scared to death at how you responded to seeing Chad. How your body froze up and your face looked as if you weren’t breathing. Even now, hearing you gasp for air as your body shook and swayed with each turn he made. He slams on the gas, pausing slightly at stop signs and ignoring any yield signs.

He parks in the driveway, coming around to help you out of the van. Just like he did last night, he carries you, only this time you remember it. Your body is shaking violently, chest racked with sobs. His chest is wet with tears from your face being buried into it. He’s whispering to you that everything will be okay. Opening the door he kicks it shut with his boot. He brings you into your room and sits you on your bed, you’re cradled in his lap, like a parent would hold a child. He caresses your head, holding you closer to him. His warm breath in your hair grounds you. You feel him lean forward grabbing on your nightstand for something, the phone.

He dials the number without even thinking. Waiting impatiently on the other end as a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” Steve breathes boredly into the phone.

Eddie sighs with relief, “Harrington, it’s me.”

“Oh God, listen dude I don’t know what to te—“

“Shut up, Steve.” Eddie interrupts, “listen—something, happened.”

Steve almost chokes on his popcorn, frantically firing off questions. “What? What’s going on? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“Ye—no, I mean—“ Eddie is stuttering and trying to explain, “we ran into Chad at the gro—“

“I’m on my way!”

The line goes dead and Eddie hears dial tone. He sets the phone back in the holder and wraps a blanket around you. Your heart is racing and you can’t even form words. You haven’t had a panic attack in over a year. It feels like the world is crashing in on you, the walls are tight and shrinking, the whole room feels smaller by the minute. Eddie’s voice is gentle and soothing, like a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter morning.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” He murmurs, “try to match your breathing with mine.” He remembers what he was taught as a kid. His emotions always ran high and Wayne would have to settle him down, get him to take deep breaths.

He’s rubbing soft circles into your back. Rocking you back and forth. You try to speak but all that comes out are gasps and the whirling noise of sharp intake of breath.

Steve and Robin make it to the house in record time, running to your room and taking everything in. Your disheveled appearance brings Steve to his knees in front of Eddie. Grabbing your hand and squeezing letting you know it was going to be okay.

You slide off Eddie’s lap and lay on the bed, curled in a ball. Robin lays beside you. Brushing your hair from your face with her fingers.

Steve pulls Eddie out of your room with great force he didn’t want to leave but he didn’t know how to help.

“I’m sorry— fuck man, I’m sorry for calling you — I just— she just locked up. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t move!” He runs his hands down his face, trying to will the tears away. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Hey, give yourself a break, you got her home, she’s safe,” Steve says patting Eddie on the back, “so explain what happened.”

Eddie begins explaining from when you both got to the grocery store. He goes into detail how distraught you seemed, how your body was rigid and full of fear. The burn of tears threatening to spill from his eyes has him blinking quick before they fall. Steve listens intently, face warped with shock and disbelief.

Throwing his head back and running his hands down his face Steve lets out a loud exhale and throws his hands on his hips, “fuck I hate that guy.”

“Yeah he seems like a fucking psycho,” Eddie agrees, “but what the fuck is going on?! I mean yeah they dated but, I don’t stiff up like that when I run into Chrissy or Trish.”

A shiver runs down his spine as he thinks of how upset you were, your body crumbling with fear the minute you made it into the van. Anxiety trickling through your body like electricity to a wire. He hated to admit it but he was scared for you.

Remembering the groceries in the back of the van, the two guys brave the sweltering heat to retrieve them. Eddie starts to put the items away, Steve rolls his eyes watching him put the canned items in the small cabinet designed for spices, the endless snacks he purchased thrown on the counter nestled up against the flour canister and slamming the lettuce into the fridge like a bowling ball.

Eddie could give a rats ass where the things went, he was worried and getting a headache from wondering if you were going to be okay. Half thinking he should find where good ol Chad lived and pay him a nice little visit. Only three tires slashed and the insurance won’t cover it.

Throwing the groceries sacks in the garbage and making his way to the living room, sitting down on the couch, he sits with his elbows on his knees, bouncing them in quick repetitions. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or should I put a paper fortune teller on my fingers and we can decide what’s wrong with Tooty with the help of crayola markers?”

The wailing cries and sobs have dissipated in the last half hour, only Robin’s soothing words can be heard now.

“Dude, it’s not my place to say,” Steve says, “it’s one thing to tell you about her parents and Kevin, but this—“ he takes another deep breath, running his hands through his thick tufts of hair, “this is 100 times worse than that,” Steve explains lowering his head.

“…But you’re right, you’re her roommate and you should know what happened.”

Eddie nods his head slowly, silently agreeing with everything Steve had said. Standing quickly and pacing around the living room, his mind is running a million miles a minute. The fight you two had didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered to him in this moment— the only thing on his mind for the past twelve hours— was you.

Steve stands and runs his fingers through his hair, placing his hands on the waist of the old fading green gym shorts he was wearing. “I’m gonna go talk to her, and when you guys are done, I’m gonna make you guys something to eat. I’m sure you idiots haven’t eaten today given the timing of when shit hit the fan.”

Eddie nods again, biting the fingernails on his right hand until they bled, a habit he hadn’t done since he was a teen, facing possible jail time for destructing private property when he spray painted, “Your mom swallowed EM’s monster cock” on the front doors of Hawkins High. He was pacing, itching for a cigarette. Pulling the pack from his flannel breast pocket he goes outside and sits on the concrete steps, lighting up.

Three squashed cigarette butts sit next to him on the step before Steve finds him. Eddie stands and stubs the cigarette out blowing smoke out of the crooked twist of his lips away from Steve’s face. The nicotine helped take the edge off but he was still anxious, fidgeting his rings.

“H-how is she?” Eddie asks apprehensively, “can I talk to her?”

“She’s better, taking deep breaths and relaxing as best as he can, she’s gonna explain everything, just give her space— let her talk and don’t ask anything until she’s finished.”

“Yeah, ‘f course.”

“Alright. Robin is gonna help me make supper,” Steve says holding opening the front door, face in a grimace he jokes, “wish me luck.”

Eddie was the one who thought he himself needed the luck, he was scared shitless that you were afraid of him.

He walks gently to your room and knocks softly on the door with one knuckle, palm facing him. He remembers just hours ago how he was standing at this very door, and how very different he felt then.

“Come in,” Robin chirps.

Eddie takes a quick breath holding it as he steps foot into your room. You’re sitting on your bed cross legged, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes are red rimmed and tissues surrounding you, a cemetery of drying tears. You look at him and muster a smile, a twitch of your lips raising at the corners.

“Well, I’m needed as a sous chef in kitchen a la Harrington,” Robin says brightly, standing from the bed and skipping towards the door. When she passes Eddie she touches his arm squeezing and giving him a reassuring nod.

Eddie stands with his hands stuffed in his pockets as the door clicks shut. You both don’t say anything for a while, you’re twirling the end of the pillowcase in your lap and he’s burning holes with his eyes into the carpet.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you say quietly, “I’m—“ your voice catches in your throat, sore from the the wailing, “I’m hoping that when I’m done telling you, you’ll be able to understand..”

He nods and leans against the wall. Hands wrapped around his triceps.

“Before I explain— I just need you to know that only Robin, Steve, Nancy, and her parents know about this— not my parents, or Kev or anyone else— and now you.

Eddie’s face is full of concern, he whispers an “okay,” and you continue.

“I can’t remember but I’m pretty sure that you and Chrissy started dating around the same time that Chad and I did, and as you remember I’m sure, Chad and I were together almost all the time. When you graduated, and my sophomore year was the year my parents moved away— things changed with him. He was suddenly callous about everything, needing control of who I was with and when. Mostly he was pissed that I was staying with the Wheeler’s. He always thought I was cheating on him with Mike.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, the Mike Wheeler he knew wouldn’t know what to do if a chick laid butt naked in his bed. Probably piss himself.

You work the corner of the pillow case in your fingers as you keep going, “The first time he hit me was on a night that I told him I couldn’t hang out because Mrs. Wheeler wanted everyone home for supper. He called me a slut and told me that I should just go and fuck Mike already even though he knew I wasn’t.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker with anger when you admit that Chad hit you, his fists clenched together tightly. With your head down and looking away from him you continue, your voice wobbly.

“We didn’t even have sex yet, at that time, I wasn’t ready. After he hit me, I thought we should break up. He followed me around, begging me to take him back and like the naive kid that I was, I did. He would be sweet for a few weeks, and then it was like a flip would switch and he’d back hand me for giving Lucas a pencil during History, pulled my hair out in chunks when Mike brought me to school, he even choked me until I passed out when Dustin sat next to me at lunch. He was extremely jealous of everyone around him, and couldn’t handle seeing anyone he didn’t ‘approve of’ be near me. He hated that I worked at Family Video, he would show up almost every shift and wait in the store for me to clock out, even threatening to kick Steve’s ass on more than one occasion. He finally gave up on that when I told him Steve was dating Robin, just so I could go to work in peace.”

Eddie’s gut is rolling, the anger boiling in his blood, his nostrils are flared, it is taking everything in him to not react the way he wants to, a simple trailer park style beating to Chad’s car, his face, whatever would hurt the little prick more. Heads would fucking roll if Eddie ever got ahold of him.

“It didn’t end there. Like I said, we weren’t having sex because I wasn’t ready, I had enough shit going on with my parents up and leaving and buying all the concealer that Melvald’s carried to cover up the bruises.”

You take a shaky breath, fighting back tears for as long as you could. Chewing the inside of your lip and un crossing your legs, bringing your knees to your chest you continue.

“Af—After prom our junior year, we were driving around and he was drinking, I just wanted to go home but he didn’t. He parked way outside of town on the south side, on some dead end road… I mouthed off to him about how cliche it was to lose our virginities on prom night and the next thing I knew,” your voice pitches to a high volume, your lips are tight as you remember the pain you felt in your head from him knocking you out, the way his hands were groping your body, “I was waking up to him on top of me, and inside of me.”

The dam breaks, the tears fall from your eyes like rain in the spring time. You throw your head back against your headboard and sniff loudly, your palms pressed to your eyes.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he’s afraid if he tried to comfort you it would only cause you more pain. Against his better judgment he stands and walks towards the bed, scooting across the lavender bedspread he sits across from you, reaching for your ankle and tenderly squeezing it, letting you know that he was there.

“I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life then when I was dating him,” you sniffle and reach for the tissues, blowing your nose loudly, “Eddie, this went on for years, it didn’t fucking stop. After senior year, he didn’t want me to go to college, because I would be too far away from him, and we argued and he kicked me out on the opposite side of town with two swelling black eyes. By the time I made it back to the Wheeler’s, my eyes were almost shut. That night, I told Ted and a very hysterical, Karen everything, and they called the cops. Of course, Tim Cunningham was the state prosecutor at the time, so it didn’t go far— Hop did what he could but there was never any judgment made against Chad, and everything was over after that.”

“I went to beauty school with Nance, and when we moved back home, I was living in the little apartments off of Sawmill Road, he found out where I was and broke in, luckily Steve and Robin were my neighbors so they heard everything and came running before he could hurt me.

“After that.. Ted and Karen bought this place for Nancy and I and last year I saved up enough and bought it from them. Last I heard, Chad had moved to Indianapolis and was working for his uncle at the law firm until he finished school. I haven’t seen him in over two years— anyway,” you finish, wiping your eyes, and blowing your nose once more, “that’s the story.”

Eddie doesn’t know where to begin, he partially is taking the blame for what happened to you, knowing that if he were there, if he had stuck it out with Chrissy maybe he could have seen the signs, maybe he could have stopped it before it ever started, maybe he could have put that little fucker in his place and made him think twice about ever touching you again. He’s full of regret, full of shame and turmoil as he thinks about how you must have been feeling this morning.

“Oh, Tooty.” Eddie starts his eyes glistening with wetness, heart aching for you, “I’m so sorry, Jesus Christ, I— I don’t even… Fuck! I should have been around.”

“There wasn’t anything anyone could have done— he’s a lunatic.” You take a breath and look down at his hand on your ankle, abandoning the thought of reaching for it at the last minute, “I know you would never do something to hurt me, or anyone— I’m sorry about last night Eddie. I just, I don’t ever get drunk enough to not remember what happened. Not after the shit I’ve been through. ” You fold your arms into your self, wrapping around your ribs, in a small voice you whisper, “and today when I couldn’t remember, I was fucking terrified—going right back to how I felt that night when I was sixteen.”

In the van today, he fully intended on chewing you out, making you feel about three inches tall. He had been accused of many different things during his teenage years. Hell he even spent a night or two in jail after fighting a guy in Indianapolis when he threw a beer at Gareth. But one thing Wayne taught him was to respect women. Sure he wasn’t the average guy, his lever leaned a little further towards pervert than most. But he would never hurt a woman. The way you looked right now scared him. Like you were afraid to be near him. Unsure if he would scream at you or worse. And it broke his heart.

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning forward, finger dipping under your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking right at him. A fresh brim of tears clung to your lashes, “as long as I’m here, being the thorn in your side, pain in the ass, good looking mother fucker that I am— you don’t ever have to be scared again.”

You shutter, body exhausted and giving in, letting the tears fall.

“Promise?”

Your doe eyes are wet and staring into his, the swirling chocolate of his eyes, melted as he looks into your soul. Shedding any walls around his heart, baring himself of his discretions, his eyes are deeper than the galaxy. You swear you’ve never seen anything prettier in your life. You can feel your frigid heart thawing for the first time in years.

“Always.”

You never thought a single word could have so much meaning, a sense of security washed over you with Eddie’s promising word. A silent devotion from his eyes of keeping you safe and out of harm's way. You felt your soul open up to him. A higher power bringing you closer to him. You reach down and grab his hand. Rubbing the rough knuckles and tracing the rings on his fingers. An angel’s smile dances on Eddie’s lips. He decides right there, in that moment, that he would be whatever you needed. For as long as you needed him. Because he needed you.

///

SEE YOU IN VOLUME VI

a/n: hope you enjoyed this, it was a little rough but the next chapter is pure fluff 💋

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #honey i’m home

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bloody-teared-angel · 4 months

Text

Ppl will use any sort of excuse to defend *H*B* and *H*H* won't they?

"She's using her OCs!"

Then why is she using names of deities that people actually working with?

At this point I'm convinced that Miss Medrano isn't criticising anything or trying to represent anything, she's just living out her fanfic dreams because she's misrepresenting everything.

Stolas is supposed to be one of the most powerful princes in Hell and he's been woobified to no end. If I was the person working with him, I would be offended.

The same goes to Lucifer - this Fallen Angel is the sin of pride, which caused his downfall (and to some extent his dreams but mainly his pride) and not some visionary dreams. He's a prideful peacock not a depressed duck.

Speaking of peacocks, Marquis Andrealphus is also renewed figure in Ars Goetia, who can shift from his peacock form into a human form and is associated with the element of AIR, not ICE.

Lilith - by many (including me) is seen as an empowering queen for women. Many turn to her to seek strength and wisdom and sometimes for help to deal with mothers loss since Lilith's children got murdered in fear of what they could do. If she's gonna be Stella 2.0 I'm gonna loose it.

King Paimon is probably one of the two most offensive since he looks nothing like THE King Paimon. Man with feminine features, sitting upon a dromedary followed by spirits with musical instruments.

Beelzebub means 'Lord of the Flies' and is the sin of gluttony. I don't know whatever the hell is in *H*B* but it sure ain't Beelzebub and it definitely isn't the sin of Gluttony.

And as for Heaven, a deeper criticism could be made with listening to stories from ex-Christians, without demonising the entire religion AND without whitewashing any of the people in it.

Is it worth mentioning that Miss Medrano got the angelic choir wrong too?

"Oh, you must be so smart with your books!" I can hear the defenders say.

To that I answer: Wikipedia is free, Google is free, YouTube is free.

If she's basing her characters loosely on Hell and Heaven, she can't criticise Christianity since the characters have nothing to do with it. Nothing. None.

And also, how can she criticise Christianity if she's not going to include the Big Allfather upstairs, the face of Christianity along with the Son?

If she's using her OCs then they shouldn't bear the names of actual figure heads in Hell since they have also nothing to do with them.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #anti hazbin hotel #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #anti helluva boss #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #anti vivziepop

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plump-lips-imagine · 1 year

Note

Could we get a part two to the human expert x bowser? The first one was so cute!

ASK AND YALL SHALL RECEIVE!!! (Ya simps.)

Cupid and The Dragon: Second Chapter

A week has passed since that last encounter. Bowser treaded aimlessly in his kingdom looking for you. You weren't in the guestroom he let you stay in, and Kamek didn't know where you were either. With an Irritable look written across his face, he grumbled.

"Stupid Human. Where'd ya go?"

The guards would've found you if he didn't. there was no real reason to find you himself. he could just order someone to do it for him a wait on his throne like a king should... But maybe they wouldn't find you.

He took a pause from moving, his mind racing. Maybe you weren't in the castle anymore. Maybe when you had the chance, you dipped out so you wouldn't have to do these lessons anymore. Maybe you escaped as soon as you saw an opportunity.

Bowser's form began to shake, and his face scrunched up in anger at the possible scenarios. And to think he was starting to get used to you being here! Were you just acting chummy to let down his guard?! Well, two can play it that way. Well, he can just lock you in a cage again when he finds you, you couldn't have gone that far! He just needs to call Kamek and-

"My, My, I see you like strong women, don't ya." Bowser froze at the sound of your voice just around the corner. His head turns as he quietly makes his way to you.

With a turn of the corner, he saw you looking intensely at the Hammer Bros hands, with a gentle gaze as your hands cradled his in such a loving manner. His face was flustered at your insight. Two other bros were looking intensely at the reading being down with curiosity, one shell was a snowy blue, while the other was a fire red.

"Woah, bro. Is that true?" The Ice bro asked.

"H-How did you know?" The Green One asked.

"So, it's true?!" The Red one looked at his bro with excitement.

You giggled at the trio of bros' astonishment. "Hehe, I see a heart that jumps with glee at how fierce she is, with nothing holding her back...And she wields a boomerang. She has a pretty blue shell too. She's a determined spirit, and compatibility wise....." You paused for a second as he gulps. You were getting everything right so far, he was scared that it would be a low percentage.

"98%!!" You exclaim with glee swimming in your eyes. He looks at you shocked. It was that high!?

"Aw sick, way to go bro!!" The fire bro cheered as he puts his bro on the back.

"That's like, nearly soulmate percentage!" The ice bro says with the same enthusiasm.

The now flustered Hammer Bro has a wobbly smile on his face. "Well, what should I do? How do we get together?"

You close your eyes deep in thought and open them up to stare into his eyes. "Ironically, the thing you love about her is the same thing that's keeping her away from you. She's a little afraid that you find her too intimidating. You'll have to make the first move. Just be yourself. I suggest asking her out during training."

"I will!" He says with determination. Hehe, another satisfied customer!

"You got this in the bag!"

"Yeah, you're going to be a number one couple for sure!"

"Thanks guys!"

Aww. It's nice to see that even as minions for an evil king, there is some healthy companionship in the kingdom.

"Yo, Cupid. Can I go next" The fire bro waved his hand excitedly at you.

"Hey! I was here first, so that means I should go first!" Ice bro retorted, raising his hand too.

"Fire beat Ice, Bro. That means I get to go next." Fire bro say with a smug look on his face, pushing him back.

"That has nothing to do with this!" Ice chided back with a scowl, butting up against him back. You and Hammer Bro just look at them with blank looks a y'alls faces.

Well. More or less healthy companionship.

"Well, Well, Well. If it isn't a hallway full of no-good slackers." A Dark Low tone growled, making everyone in the hallway jump a bit. You now just noticed a shadow taking up the light look up to see Bowser, A deep scowl on his face, watching you and the three bros quivering in fear. Huffs of smoke puffed out is nostrils as he peered down at all of you with an intense glare.

"S-Sir, we were just uh...-"

"Good morning, Bowser. Did you sleep alright?" You butted in to try to ease the tension that was created all of a sudden, giving him a warm smile.

His glare only softens a little as he Gruffs at you, but his eyes glare back intensely when he spots the position you were in. Your hands were still cradling the hammer bros' as he shook like a leaf at his boss' eyes being directed at him. A low growl came from Bowser's throat.

He takes a couple of steps in front of you, causing the Fire and Ice bro to quickly move out of them and the Hammer bro to jolt back, releasing his hands from yours. Bowser suddenly grabs you by the waist making you yelp in surprise.

"Human, with me. Now." He then gently but firmly placed you between his arm while glaring at the three fidgety bros. "And you three..."

He stomps the ground loudly. Making everything around them jump. "GET YOUR BUTTS TO THE TRAINING DECK!! I WANT ALL OF YOU TO TRAIN ALL DAY! IS THAT CLEAR!?"

"Y-Yes Lord Bowser!!" They all salute, still shaking in place. Bowser Grunts and turns away with you in tow, still being carried by him.

Sometimes you forget how easy it is for him to carry you. It's almost way like nothing to him. It makes you feel weird how close he has you, being carried like luggage. He had pretty scales. they would glimmer in specific lighting so sometimes it would be easy to miss Them. They shone like diamonds. You didn't really mind being carried like this, because he was still mindful of you, so it wasn't too tight on your body. it was kinda fun.

"Why weren't you in your room?"

"Huh?" You were brought out of your thoughts by Bowser breaking the silence. He struggles to not snap at you for repeating yourself.

"You weren't in your room when I went to get you. Why?" He retorts at you. You look at him as you think of an answer.

"Well, I woke up early so I didn't want to disturb you before you woke up. And I was bored so I decided to do a few love readings for minions that were willing to get one. I guess I lost track of time." You meekly explained. Bowser rolls his eyes and looks back down at you.

"What's the point of me paying for your service if you're just going to give yourself for free? He grumbled. You shook you're head frantically.

"I wouldn't do that! They promised to tell me more about the Kingdom and about its inhabitants. I saw a lot more than regular koopas and goombas and I wanted to hear more from them while you were asleep. I was...a little curious."

"Well, don't do that again. I don't need any of my minions slacking off just for a love reading. That's only for me and I only got it. I ain't paying you to get chummy with anyone else. Got it?" He growled, just thinking about you wasting your time on anyone else but Him.

You frown at this. How are you going to learn now? "I understand...I'm sorry."

Bowser looks down at you and sees your disheartened gaze and his face softens up. a moment of silence happens then he lets out a low breath, one that he didn't know he was holding in his throat. His anger dissipated. He rubbed his hair, struggling to find the words to say.

"After our session, I'll allow you to ask me any questions you have about this Kingdom. Also, I'll let you use our library to learn a bit about the inhabitants. Just stop looking like a kicked puppy."

You look up at him in surprise. " Really!? You don't mind. I won't bother you?"

"If it had bothered me, I wouldn't have proposed it in the first place. You're teaching me about humans so I might as well tell you a thing or two about my minions." He grumbles. Your eyes lit up in excitement.

"Of Course! I promise to not ask too much! You can count on me to work extra hard on teaching you how to love a human!" You beamed.

Bowser felt himself having to control the urge to cover his eyes at the nonexistent bright light around you, his face feeling a bit warm. You were going to be the death of him one day.

***

Both You and Bowser stood in his Private room.

"Peach. I stand here before you for one thing. A chance. Please, let me show you that I can treat you like the Princess that you are and more. Will you go out with me?" He holds out his hand in front of you.

You are back in your peach outfit, with no reaction on your face. You then clear your throat as you prepare your answer.

"No." You said Bluntly.

you see Bowser's eye twitch in frustration, struggling to keep in his true emotions as his body shakes in anger.

"I......I............" He takes in a deep breath, "I......u-understand." he finally force himself to say as he lets out a breath of relief. You smile at him.

"Excellent. You took that rejection like a champ! That's the best one yet!" You praised Bowser, who was struggling on the floor a bit.

You see. Rejection is a part of life for the everyday human. Especially when it comes to love, so we have to accept rejection than refusing to take no for an answer.

This was a struggle for Bowser the most. Every other time y'all would practice with each other, it usually ended with him on a rampage or you ducking for cover from the fire that he spewed. Such Progress!

"Guh...This Sucks. I thought rejection would be easier to handle over time."

"Heh, well don't get to hung up on it. Most humans struggle today to handle rejection, so you're doing a lot better than most. You're doing awesome!"

Bowser stares at you for a moment and gets back up with a smirk on his face. "Heh, of course! I am the king of Awesome. I can handle any obstacle far better than any human. Anyone for that matter!" He puffs out his chest with Pride. you just stare at him.

"Your delivery when asking the question could use some work."

"Oh puh-lease, that was going to make her gush at me, and you know it."

"Eeeeh, gush isn't the word I would use."

Bowser glares at you. But it didn't carry the tone that his usual glares do. This one was in a more playful manner, with a non-threatening tone.

"Oh yeah, you think you can do better?"

"Well, I'm not a love expert for no reason. I am known to be a charmer."

He scoffs. "Alright prove it. Use your charm on me." He stands tall, waiting.

"Alright, Challenge accepted." You say as you clear your throat. a pause was made and then you look at him deep in the eyes.

"My dear King. Your passionate spirit wraps around my soul like a never-ending flame. I may not offer much but my love for you is in full, so please," You brought his claw to your face as your cheek rested on his palm. "won't you let me become yours, my handsome Koopa? And let me break you out of your shell?" You finished, with the gaze of undying love.

K.O.

Bowser felt a critical hit that felt like an arrow to his heart. His face flushing red from the confession and he has to hide his face away from you. Holy Shit. He was this close to putting you in his Treasure vault.

"Damn it.... Well Played."

"Thank You! It's in my nature!" You say playfully.

You get up and take the Peach wig off your head. " That concludes on lesson for today. Only one more lesson to go. You're on fire."

Bowser rolls his eyes but a smile creeps on his face. He couldn't help it. You just have this way of bringing him up in some way. Your good mood is infectious.

As he looks at you and takes off the makeup, his mind began to wonder. You were alone when you were captured here. And you didn't show any signs of missing anyone. Surely somebody like you has someone waiting to go home to, right?

"Say, Cupid."

"Hm?" you hummed, letting him know you were listening.

"Since you're like 'The' Love Expert and everything..., you got a lover yourself?"

You pause and turn to look at him surprised. Silence takes of the room, making Bowser a little uncomfortable. Why did you look like that?

"Nope. Honestly, never had a lover to call my own in a while."

"What? But I thought if anyone were to have a lover, it would be you." He looks at you puzzled, now by your side to look at your face.

Your face had a smile, but your eyes shine solemnly. You sit down, making him do the same.

"Well, I wasn't always the Love Expert that I am today" you admitted. "I've been called a lot of other things before. Witch, Noisy Hag, Perverted Creep, delusional Moron. Turns out, lots of people don't like to be read like a book, even when they ask you to. Ironic Right?"

A pathetic attempt at a joke was made but he didn't laugh. he had to hold down his angry for all the names that people used at you.

"But it's not just that, I grew up around a town where love.... wasn't love. It was mean, bitter, toxic, and hateful. With a town like that; Who needs enemies?" You stood and looked outside, the night sky mixing in contrast with the lava-filled landscape. "But hey! It's not so bad! I was able to get away and bring so many lovers together through hard work. I may not be able to find my own love now, but seeing genuine love around makes it worth it." You smiled at him with a determined look.

He stares at you. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he couldn't help but admire you a bit. Your resolve to help them find love in the unlikeliest place made him...respect? Yeah. It made him respect you.

"And you know what, jokes on that town. They missed out on the most amazing spouse they could ever have, hehe!" You say, with a joke in your tone.

"Yeah, they did." He Concurred, sounding so sincere, which shocked both of you. He thought that he only said that in his head. It made you giggle softly.

"Wow, you're becoming a real charmer!! 10+ Points!"

Oh, Shut Up." He says, grabbing your face playfully in his hand, making you whine at the contact. But he was actually glad. He didn't like that far-away sad look you had. He much rather have you act like a goofball instead. A weird, charming goofball.

***

"Alright, Almost done. tell me the most important things in a relationship?"

Bowser looks at you with a begrudging look on his face. Struggle to say the words out loud.

"Do we really need to do this again? I don't see how this wi-" He stops mid-sentence seeing the expression on your face, one that holds a silent plea to comply. He sighs, his red eyebrows knitted in focus..

"Honesty."

"Okay."

"Communication."

"Good."

"Trust."

"Mhm."

"Safety."

"Great."

"V-Vulnerability."

"And....?"

"Affection!"

"Right! You remembered!"

Bowser was a bit bashful under that gleeful gaze, but it was balanced out by the praise he oh so craved.

"Now. The final element of a Great and Loving relationship is this key factor. It's Respect."

"Huh? Are you sure it's not the ability to give your partner everything you want?' He asked as if it's an obvious question to have. You roll your eyes.

"No, Your Majesty. There's nothing more powerful than having respect for your partner." You think about your words for a minute. " You see, Relationships will have its ups and down. You might like red, she might hate red. She may like apples; you may loathe apples. Sometimes, we can't always agree with our partners or have a different viewpoint, but that's okay. Respect is important because it lets you know that no matter the differences and no matter our disagreements, I will always see you in a positive light. And I would never make you feel less than."

Bowser listen intensely, but couldn't help but quip out, "Stars that was painful to here. That was so corny."

"Hey, I'm letting down some really good advice. C'mon!" You blushed in embarrassment, feeling embarrassed for the way you let out your soul on your teaching.

"Bwahaha! Right, right! I'm sorry. I was just joking." He smirks at you playfully. You huff and then hold out your hands.

"Let's see that percentage, shall we?"

Bowser lets your small hands touch his gigantic ones, seeing you focus at the percentage.

"Congratulations, King Bowser. You are at exactly 50%. Which means my work here is done."

"Only 50%!"

"I'm afraid the other half is Peach. Only She can make it go up now. You are as high as you can get. You are 50/50 percent, which is lucky considering where we started off." You explained.

Steams of frustration come out of his nostrils. "You could've told me this before we did all this." He's silent for a while but then nods. "Alright. So now what?""

"That's for you to decide now. I can give you anymore advice then I already have. I'm done.... Are you still going to keep me here?"

Huh. He hadn't thought about that. If everything is done, then technically he doesn't need you here anymore. Your usefulness has taken its course. And yet. He didn't want you to leave, but he couldn't think of a good excuse to make you stay.

"I guess you have done your part. Your...free to go."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I've kept you in here long enough. Don't make me repeat myself." he said a little harshly, making you flinch.

'Why did I say it like that?' he asked as he scolded himself for your reaction.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye! Thank you for having me as your teacher. And thank you for the large sum of coins, I'll be able to bunker down somewhere in Toad Town for a while!"

'Bunker down?'

"What do you mean, 'Bunker Down'?" He questions at the bomb you just dropped.

"Huh? Oh, well I'm a traveler. I don't really have a place to call my own yet ever since I ran away. That's why I've been traveling so far to see if anywhere was a good place would be to settle down."

You explain as if it was obvious, but Bowser looks at you in Bewilderment. You didn't have a home? At all!? This is unacceptable!

he grumbles something under his breath.

"Huh?" You didn't quite get that.

"I SAID THAT FROM NOW ON, YOU WILL STAY IN MY CASTLE!!" His voice booms at you while also making the room shake a bit. You stare at him in astonishment.

You both stare at each other for a bit before Bowser clears his throat to calm himself a bit. "Well, if you want to! You've already been here a while and I've grown used to you. The minions seem to like you as well so-"

You cut him off with a hug to his abdomen, making him freeze a bit. Huh, no one has ever willingly given him a hug before. This felt Nice. Really Nice. He almost doesn't want you to let go.

but you do, much to his dismay, but you're smiling at him.

"Thank You! I swear I'll do my best in whatever role you give me!"

He sighs. "Yeah, yeah, worry about that later..." he pets your head softly. But then something comes to mind that he'd never really thought about.

"I've...Never gotten your name."

"Huh?"

"You're name. I can't just keep calling you human and Cupid. What's your name?"

You giggle at this. that's right. You forgot to introduce yourself completely. "My name is (Y/N) (L/N). At your service."

"Well, (Y/n). You're lucky because you're now part of the best kingdom there is!"

"Hehe, Yay." You yawn, feeling sleepiness coming into your body. "I think I should retire for the day. it's getting late. I believe in you, Bowser. You're going to make a princess very happy. I just know it." You exit the room, leaving Bowser by himself, in his thoughts.

Huh. He would've thought he had gotten used to that cheery personality but you still manage to lighten his confidence in ways that his own army couldn't do. He could get used to you having you around. It'll be an adjustment to accommodating a Human, but since he was going to do the same for Peach, doing the same for you wouldn't be a problem. Perhaps even easier.

....

Right the princess. If he really is going to confess to her at the time is right, he might as well do a little practice.

He thinks of ways to compliment Princess Peach. Her Golden hair, the beautiful never moving crown, her beautiful (color) eyes.....wait.

That's not right. he closes his eyes to envision her in his head. Her pink beautiful dress, her elegant posture, the beautiful (color) hair on her, their cute eyelashes, the way they beam at him with no care in the world, their curious nature, the kind eyes when they look deep into his, their cute pout, their soft kissable face, and-

Hold on! Wait a Minute!

Bowser Tries to think of Peach, but the images always become you. You're grace and your smile floods his mind every time he tries to focus.

You! You.You.You.

You.

Bowser's face turns red at a sudden realization he has. Oh no.

'I think...I'm in love with (Y/N).'

#bowser x reader #bowser #bowser x y/n #reader #super mario #smb x reader #super mario bros #hope y’all enjoy the meal #i put it in the microwave but trust me it’s alright #I made it with love.#i know what you are #reader has ultimate rizz #bowser x you

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lord-of-the-prompts · 2 years

Text

A-Z ALTERNATE UNIVERSE IDEAS:

afterlife

alien invasion

all female

all human

alpha/beta/omega dynamics

always a different gender/sex

amnesia

ancient era

angels & demons

animal shelter

another world

antique shop

apocalypse

army

arranged marriage

artists

art school

asgard

assassins & hitmen

atlantis

babysitters

bakery

ballet

blind date

boarding school

bodyswap

bookstore

bounty hunters

boxers

boy band

british

celebrity

character/actor swap

christmas

circus

civil war

coffee shops/cafes

college

cowboys & aliens

covid 19 pandemic

creatures & monsters

crime

criminals

cults

dance battle

dark fantasy

detective partners

different first meeting

different powers

dragon age

dungeons & dragons

dystopian

elfland

enemies to friends to lovers

everyone lives/nobody dies

faerie

fairytale

fake dating

fake relationship

fandom fusion

fans & fandom

fantasy

farm/ranch

firefighters

fix-it

flower shop

foster family

futuristic society

gangster

gang world

genderbending

genderswap

genie/djinn

ghost hunters

gladiators

gods & goddesses

gothic

guardian angel

harry potter and 1400s witch trials

heaven & hell

hollywood

horse racing

highschool

historical

hogwarts

homless

hospital

hunger games arena

ice skating/ice dancers

immortal

journalism

kings & queens

k-pop

laboratory

lawers

lifeguards

law enforcement

mafia

magic

magical creatures

medical

medieval fantasy

merepeople

military

mob

model/photographer

modern setting

monster hunters

mortal

muggle

mutants

multiverse

murder mystery

mythology

navy

neighbours

never met

ninjas

noir

noir detective

non-famous

non-magical

non-mutant

no powers

not related

no time travel

office

olympus

online dating

ordinary people

orphanage

paramedics

perspective change

pirate

podcast hosts

pompeii

powerswap

post-apocalyptic

prison ecsape

prom

psycics

quest

quidditch

radioshow hosts

reincarnation

renaissance

restaurant

road trip

roaring twenties

robot uprising

rock star

roller derby

role swap/reversal

roommates

royalty

scientists

shakespeare

shapeshifter

siblings

shipwreck

single parent

snowed in

soulmates

space

spies & secret agents

spirits

spy

spyfi

steampunk

summer camp

sun flairs

superhero

supernatural

supernatural elements

tattoo parlour

theatre

thieves

time loops

time travel

trojan war setting

twins

urban fantasy

university

valhalla

vampire slayer

vegas

victorian era

video game world

vigilante

vikings

wedding planners

werecreatures

werewolf

western

witchcraft

world war i/world war ii

wormhole

youtubers

zombie apocalypse

#writing prompt #writing ideas #writing tips #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writers block #writing things #writing #writing advice #writing inspiration #alternate universe #fanfic aus #fanfic #fanfiction

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zukka-fic-recs · 1 year

Note

Hello! I am totally new to reading Zukka and would love some recommendations. If you've already done this, please feel free to just link to another post! I would love a few recs of what you consider to be "must-reads". I'm open to any length or rating (although I tend to read rated E), I would just love to start with a few that are phenomenal :)

Hi stavro!

Welcome to the wonderful world of Zukka fics!

Here's a Zukka starter pack for you, I limited it to 10 fics to stop it from getting too unwieldy, but it was really difficult to keep it so short tbh, so if you want more lmk!

Zukka Must-Reads

Blue by blacklipscurse

Available on Ao3, Complete (Part 1), Teen, Slowburn, Canon-Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Blue Spirit Zuko, Secret Indentities, Ba Sing Se, Angst, H/C, Homophobia, Physical Disability, Humour / Humor

Wordcount: 192,682

This fic is a whole damn phenomenon in this fandom and it's phenomenal to match! The way the characters are written really draws you in. It's a very emotive fic and I truly cannot emphasise how funny blacklipscurse's writing is, I laughed a lot. Especially at Zuko, and sometimes Sokka. 😅 There is a sequel but it's a WIP and Blue can stand alone. :)

absence of heat, excess of destiny by theycallmesuperboy / @baegarrick

Available on Ao3, Complete, Gen, Canon-Compliant, Alternate Universe - Soulmate, AU - Soulmate-Identifying Marks

Wordcount: 4,336

Absolute classic, and I love soulmate fics so for me this is top tier.

Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (Ao3) / zanimez (Tumblr)

Available on Ao3, Complete, Mature, Post-Canon, Fluff, Smut, H/C, Angst, Ambassador Sokka

Wordcount: 21,490

The way their relationship gently unfurls in this is very satisfying. Highly recommend!

Hallowed by HairCrescendo / @sword-and-stars

Available on Ao3, Complete, Explicit, Smut, Fluff

Wordcount: 4,615

Smouldering smut and fluffy feelings. I'd recommend all of HairCrescendo's work tbh, they're a fantastic writer and they have about a dozen more Explicit works. ;)

three words that become hard to say (I and love and you) by overcomeeithlongingfora_girl / @overcomewithlongingfora-girl

Available on Ao3, Complete, Explicit, Smut, Praise Kink, Subdrop, Domdrop, Light BDSM

Wordcount: 2,977

This fic is hothotHOT, and yet also so sweet and emotional it makes my heart hurt. Bring a fan and some tissues.

Courtesan by lesbianophelia / @mendontprotectyou

Available on Ao3, Complete, Explicit, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Light Praise Kink

Wordcount: 2,200

So scrumptious I just want to eat it. Prepare to feel things. 🔥

For Peace and Zuko by BeersForQueers / @omgbeersforqueers

Available on Ao3, Complete, Explicit, Slowburn, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Future Fic, Canon-Divergence

Wordcount: 43,277

Speaking of classics, honestly you could read anything and everything by BeersForQueers and I would recommend doing so! They're a longtime member of the fandom. They were there for this ship when it needed it most (I want you to know that I just blew a kiss to the sky). Having said that, For Peace and Zuko is one of my absolute favourites. The sequel Ice Cave makes for a lovely epilogue.

when the prison doors are opened by alternatedoom

Available on Ao3, Complete, Explicit, Underage, Sickfic, Angst, H/C, Voyeurism, Animal Killed for Food, FWB, Imprisonment, Dub-Con

Wordcount: 164,648

I don't know if this counts as slowburn given... ahem, the progression of things. On the emotional front, perhaps. Their relationship development is messy in a delicious way, really twists you around into such wonderful spirals... Idek if I'm making any sense, that's what this fic does to my mental capacity! Every character interaction is just so so good and the way the tension gets ratcheted up and then unwound is captivating. I could gush about this fic all day, but instead I'll just leave it at: it's really, really good and you should read it.

In the Soft Light by CSHfic and VSfic

Available on Ao3, Complete, Teen, Slowburn, Pining, Canon-Divergence, Alternate Universe - War Ended Early, Angst, H/C, Firelord Azulon, Miscommunication, Pining, Underage Drinking, AU - Moon Spirit Sokka, side Bakoda, Sickfic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Bed-Sharing

Wordcount: 83,904

Some of my absolute favourite authors in this fandom and all of their work is fantastic quality. In terms of spot-on characterisation, wonderful descriptions, plenty of humour to balance out the angst... Their writing is masterful, and this is one of my favourites of their fics. They have more mature/explicit works as well. ;) (Side-note: I absolutely adore Zuko in this fic).

(do you take this jerk to be) your one and only by jatersade

Available on Ao3, Complete, Teen, Slowburn, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Bed-Sharing, Misunderstandings, Pining, AU - Royalty, Alternate Universe - 100 Year War Ended Early, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Wordcount: 55,846

I love the arranged marriage trope and I love it when authors play around with the gang's status as the children of royalty and world leaders, and this fic does all of that so well. Jatersade's pacing and the quality of their charecterisarion really elevates this fic.

---

I wanted to keep this list to complete fics, but I do have to mention feels like we only go backwards by oldpotatoe, because although it's a WIP it is iconic.

Also, a personal favourite of mine that has been discontinued (but didn't end on a cliffhanger or anything) is invisible string by wilteddaisy (taotu). I have it saved to my phone as a PDF for when I need a comfort read, that's how much I love it.

#zukka fic rec #zukka fic recs #atla #sokka/zuko #zukka #zuko/sokka #Zukka starter pack #Zukka must-reads #Zukka classics #This is just a short list I know this isn't all the Zukka classics #I can already think of so many that aren't on this #But have mercy even putting this together took me hours 😭#Good thing I missed my flight and had to take a 4 hour bus so I had the time to compose this huh 😅#Maybe my psychiatrist was right about me having adhd...#Anyway if you'll excuse me I have some rereading to do!#There are some recs in the notes too now 💕

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warrior-names · 7 months

Text

Edgy Warrior Prefixes & Suffixes

Return to your roots. Make cringe emo cats. etc.

50+ prefixes and 30+ suffixes under the cut!

Prefixes

Adder-

Bat-

Belladonna-

Black-

Bleeding-

Bone-

Broken-

Cold-

Crow-

Dark-

Dead-

Dusk-

Ebony-

Echo-

Eclipse-

Ember-

Fallen-

Fang-

Flea-

Foxglove-

Frozen-

Hemlock-

Holly-

Hornet-

Ice-

Jagged-

Lost-

Maggot-

Mandrake-

Moon-

Nettle-

Night-

Nightshade-

Oleander-

Poison-

Quiet-

Rat-

Raven-

Red-

Rot-

Rotting-

Scarlet-

Scorpion-

Shade-

Sharp-

Shattered-

Silent-

Skull-

Snake-

Spider-

Tattered-

Thorn-

Torn-

Venom-

Viper-

Wasp-

Withered-

Yew-

Suffixes

bite

bone

burn

claw

crush

cry

echo

fall

fang

frost

glare

heart

hiss

hope

howl

moon

scar

scratch

shade

slash

smoke

snap

snarl

spirit

sting

strike

tear

thorn

tooth

wail

whisper

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kaisers-house-of-desires · 1 month

Note

Blaming me for sending an ask and now I have to, lol

What about Sukuna x transmasc Cinderellaesque reader? 👀 Just to feed the fans

To be fair You were a good candidate heheh

But! I digress.

I see your request, and I prepare your food~

Title: Cinderella Style

Characters: Sukuna x transmasc!Reader

Contains: Cinderellaesque plot, make out, alcohol mention, reader self doubt, good ending

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

You almost didn't recognize the man in the mirror, and it gave you a rush.

The outfit wasn't anything spectacular, but it ticked all the right boxes. The clothes shaped your body just right, and your hair was styled just how you liked it. Now that you had moved out , you were able to dress and present just how you wanted, and it was liberating. Your friend especially was one to thank, as this party was partially a reason for you to dress how you wanted as an experiment.

Speaking of your friend, you checked the text from them, double checking the time of the party and comparing it to the time on your watch. You were early, but thought that wouldn't be an issue and saw yourself out.

---

Fear.

Standing at the house, fear coursed through your body. What if someone saw through you? What if someone called you out? What if this whole party was some sort of fake out? What if--

"Hey!"

Your friend's voice shook you from your thoughts as they ran up to you. You had known better than to think anything like that of them, but you couldn't help that fear that wanted to settle in.

"H-Hey!"

"So! You ready for a little fun?" Your friend nudged your arm with their elbow, their excitement on their sleeve. "Excited to be the real you?"

"W-Well..." You gently rubbed your arm wanting to let out your feelings, wanting to turn tail and hide. No one was here yet, so it's not like you'd be the center of attention, but the feelings still lingered.

Your friend was able to see the worry that radiated from you and gently put an arm around your shoulders. "Listen. If anyone gives you hell, find me, okay?"

You were always thankful for this friend. They've had your back for as long as you could remember. Feeling the fear start to fade off, you gave them a small nod. "Y-Yeah, I will."

---

An hour into the party finally starting, and you were a free spirit, conversing with people here and there, luckily no thanks to the alcohol going around. Thankfully there were waters and sodas about, so you helped yourself to those as you finally got comfortable.

At the moment, you had found yourself in conversation between three other men: a white haired guy with sunglasses, a guy with his black hair in a half ponytail, and a male with pink spiked hair and forearm tattoos. This group of four soon became a group of two as the guys with the black and white hair left the conversation when a woman with long brown hair pulled them aside.

"Oh, hey, never did catch your name," you noted to the remaining male, who never spoke during the group as the other two took up most of the time.

"Mm?" He had a cup to his lips, swallowing down the contents before answering. "Mm. Sukuna. You?"

You gave your name as you noted his. "So...how do you know my friend?"

"Ah, the host? I don't. I got dragged here with a few others who do know them, but why complain when there's free food and drink? The handsome company is a bonus...~"

His voice was deep and velvety, and while you weren't drinking, you wished you were so you can blame whatever heat was on your face from his voice alone. But joined in with how he looked, the compliment, and his gaze downward at you? It had you weak.

Alright, settle down. It's fine, you're fine. He's pretty hot, he thinks you're hot...shoot the shot!

You didn't have a plan if someone started to hit on you, but you didn't want to leave the party chickening out of anything, so you took a chance.

"Had I known you'd be around, I'd have brought extra ice for my drink."

...No that was stupid, definitely stupid.

But, Sukuna appeared to disagree, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your response. So...It had to have worked, right?

"Is that so?" he asked, leaning a bit closer to you. Your heart hammered by the closeness, but you didn't feel scared anymore. You felt excited.

After what felt like an eternity of silence between you, Sukuna turned his attention to something else for a moment before returning his eyes back to you.

"Hey, can I lead you somewhere?"

You almost didn't hear him, but the question still registered. As long as you didn't leave the house, you didn't mind following him.

With your consent, Sukuna took your hand and led you through the crowd of people. Both your drinks were left forgotton on different pieces of furninture as you walked. Before you realized it, Sukuna had pulled you two into a small closet, granting you some privacy.

"Still good?"

His voice was a surprise amid the darkness, your eyes slowly adjusting. Your heart continued to thwump away, both excited and nervous for what was to come. You were no dummy, though. This felt like a classic cliche party trope, and your brain and heart were all for it.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah still good."

"Heh. Good. Now, you're free to stop me at any time, okay?"

Still not being able to see, you were about to question him when his lips met yours. Throwing caution to the wind, you returned the kiss, arms wrapping around the larger male. You could feel his own arms around you, his strength making you feel weak.

Nothing more progressed from this event; it was merely a heated make out, one that currently made your mind a hazy mess. Hands touched clothes, hair. Jackets were soon discarded to the side. Grunts, groans, and moans filled the air that held muffled music. You almost wouldn't have minded if it progressed.

Until Sukuna's hand traveled up your shirt from the side, touching a forgotten piece of fabric by your chest. You felt his motions stutter for a moment, but your mind was already in flight mode.

Pulling away from the kiss, you tried to stammer out a response, but your mind wouldn't process. Instead you pushed yourself away, heading to the door. Sukuna grabbed your wrist, but without missing a beat, you shook him free, bolting from the closet, and ultimately, out from the party.

---

It had been a couple days since that party. You were a mental mess, but it had somewhat subsided as the time went on. Your friend tried reaching out, but you insisted you needed alone time. Really, you just wanted to forget everything that happened.

Only you wouldn't be so lucky as a knock rattled your door one night.

Opening the door, you were greeted to a familiar figure: pink spiked hair, tall, and tattoos on the forearm.

"Uh...hello," was all you could mutter.

"Hey, I'm looking for (y/n)? I was told he lived here." His voice sounded the same, even sounding a hint hopeful, though it didn't seem like he recognized you right away, given you didn't appear the same way. It was mainly the baggy clothes and posture that separated you from his memory of you.

You could send him on his way or try to explain everything. You were about to open your mouth when he continued on.

"Sorry for bothering. It's just he left his jacket at a party, and I wanted to return it." That being said, he held up the item, your very jacket that you hadn't realized you left at the party.

"I left that over there?" It left you before you could stop yourself.

Sukuna quirked a brow. "You're (y/n)?"

You hesitated for a moment. "Y-Yeah. Sorry. It's...complicated."

Extending his arm and handing the jacket over, Sukuna replied. "Don't worry. You don't have to see me again if you don't want to."

"N-No no it's not that." You took the jacket, fidgeting with it in your arms. "I mean...It wasn't you. I promise. It was me. See I...I'm kinda..." You cursed yourself, unable to find the words to explain it.

"Hey, no worries, okay?" You were surprised to hear how calm he was about this. "Whatever it is, if you don't want to talk about it or...hell, can't, then don't. It's none of my business."

His words weren't in a way that was like "I really don't care," but in a way that showed he would wait if needed, or rather if he stayed in your life. It was your decision to address, and he knew he had no right to need an explanation until you were ready.

It was the first time anyone had shown this kind of care to you, an action you were thankful for.

"Although...I wouldn't mind getting coffee with you. Down the street?"

Processing his words, you gave a delayed nod. "S-Sure! I mean, yeah, I wouldn't mind. Maybe next week? If you're not busy."

Giving you a relieved smile, he replied, "Yeah. Sounds good. I'll see you then. Noon?"

"Noon."

#kaisers house of desires #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #jujutsu kaisen #x trans male reader #x transmasc reader #x trans reader #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna

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creepypastasomethingsomething · 2 years

Text

CreepyPasta Incorrect Quotes pt. 5: Buzzfeed Unsolved edition

Toby: I did meet some of the most insufferable people. But, they also met me.

---

(Y/N): We better stock up on some knowledge here, otherwise, we're going to get murdered by ghosts

BEN: *nervous ghost sweating*

---

Kate: Okay, now we add the ghost broccoli

Hoodie: It's called cauliflower, for gods sake

---

Jeff: Can I bother you for a second?

Liu: You always bother me, so go ahead

---

EJ: What's it like being friends with Helen? (Bloody Painter)

(Y/N): Once I asked him for a glass of water while he was pissed at me, and he brought me a glass full of ice, and said "wait"

---

Dr. Smiley: All odd numbers have an 'e' in them

Nurse Ann: Smiley, it's 3 a.m.

Dr. Smiley: t-h-r-E-E

Nurse Ann: GO TO SLEEP

---

(Y/N): Is it still murder if you give them a heads up?

---

Zalgo: Hey there demons, it's me, ya boi

---

Toby: It costs $400 to see a therapist

Toby: But it's free to just tell yourself, "It be like that sometimes"

Lyra: What? NO--

---

Clockwork: This is gonna sound a little wild, but... You ever think about murder-- Murdering a-- Person?

---

Hoodie: Even for us, this mission is pretty dangerous

Toby: No worries. Dangerous is my middle name

Masky: Your middle name is Erin, dumbass

---

Zalgo with his posse of demons: Hey ghouls! The bOyS aRe HeRe!

---

[BEN's voice comes through the spirit box]

(Y/N): That sounded like Will Smith!

(Y/N): Is Will Smith dead? Has anyone checked the news?

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sleepy-sirin · 1 year

Text

Incarnation (Honkai Star Rail x Child! Herrscher! Reader)

Summary: In which Y/n, the creation of Will of Honkai, successfully defeated her own creator with the help of her friends. After defeating the Will of Honkai, for using too much of her power she goes into a deep sleep.

Previous | Next chapter

Chapter 2

Second POV:

"Jarlio-Vl, we're here." Dan Heng said.

"Brrr. It really is one big snowball." March said, as she hugged herself for some warmth.

"It really is one big snowball." Stelle commented.

"Hey, get your own metaphor!" March said to Stelle.

"*Sigh* Snow as far as the eye can. Which direction should we take?" She asked.

"Based on the coordinates, the target should be up ahead." Dan Heng said.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's- Wait! Where's Y/n?" March panic, knowing they lost you.

The trio search everywhere for you, only to find you sleeping peacefully through the snow. Dan Heng picked you up and carries you into his arms.

"How come she can sleep at this cold temperature?" March asked.

"Considering what Mr.Yang said, that she's not exactly a human but a herrscher." Stelle stated.

"I'll look after her since Mr.Yang entrusted me, knowing if she ever attack anyone of us." Dan Heng said.

"Remember, we should stay vigilant. We know very little about this world." He said.

"Calm down. Between the four of us, nothing will stand in our way." March said.

"I mean c'mon, Stelle, you've got a Stellaron in your body, I have my special Six-Phased Ice powers, Dan Heng... Uhh, he's got that mysterious past thing going for him... and Y/n being a dangerous herrscher, we don't know if she's in our side or not..." She said.

"So, if people start creating trouble for us, they're gonna regret it!" She said.

"Let's just make sure that we're not the ones creating trouble..." Stelle sweatdropped.

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, hehe... Let's go. Braving the unknown... that's the real spirit of trailblazing!" March said.

The four of them walk away and find what they were looking for. They've encountered some of Fragmentum monsters and fight them off to clear their path. Dan Heng was having a hard time since he was holding you while fighting.

The four of them notice a large snow bump along their way, knowing that someone was hiding underneath the snow, hearing someone shivering.

"Hey, get outta there or you'll shiver to death." March said. The person who was hiding is holding their breath to not make a sound.

"Holding your breath won't help..." She said.

"I got this, March. If someone's got their head stuck in the sand, or the snow in this case... they just need a helping hand." Dan Heng said.

"You idiotic human, are you asking for a death wish." You said, you finally awake from your sleep. The trio looks surprised that your awake now.

"Can you put me down now?" Y/n asked Dan Heng.

Dan Heng complied as he puts you down. You walk behind the person who was hiding in snow, and kick them as hard as you can.

"Ouch!"

The man finally left the snow he was hiding. He was slightly hurt from the kick you gave him, and you don't give a damn about it.

"Little girl, was that really necessary? Is crawling around in the snow a crime these days? I mean, c'mon, surely it doesn't warrant a kicking?" The man said. The four of them glared at him.

"... But then again how can I blame you? I mean, I caught you off guard. It had to happen, you could even say I deserved it, huh? Besides, I've made a gallant group of new friends as a result, hehe..." He said.

"... Is Captain Gepard around? H-He's an old buddy of mine..." He asked, slightly worried that he would be caught.

"Who?" March asked.

"Wait, you're not Silvermane Guards? Well, why didn't you say so? Turns out we're on the same side after all! Pleasure to meet you, the name's Sampo Koski." Sampo introduce himself.

"I'm Stelle." Stelle introduce herself.

You didn't introduce yourself but told him:

"Call me Herrscher of the Sea, since you don't have the privilege to call my name."

Sampo sweatdropped, knowing that you don't fully trust him to utter your name, he decided to play along with it. Unaware that you spoke of is your real title.

"Excellent. I'll remember the names. I never thought I'd run into friends from the same line of work out here in this frozen wasteland. *sigh* Business is bad these days, but fear not. Sampo Koski isn't interested in hoarding. There's more than enough treasure to go around, so let's get rich together! Hahaha." Sampo said.

"Say, why don't we join forces? I have reliable intel the main strength of the Silvermane Guards is being deployed to the front line. This is a golden opportunity..." He said.

"What business are you talking about?" Stelle asked, still wary of Sampo.

"Come now, friends. I can understand the mistrust, but there's no need for the charade. Then again, I know the rules, vigilance is the name of the game in our profession. It's my fault for letting my enthusiasm and sincerity get the better of me..." Sampo said.

"Anyway, a meeting like this has to have been written in the stars. Ask me anything you like, I won't skimp on the details. Still, make it snappy, you're never more than ten feet from a Silvermane Guards..." He said.

"Is there a settlement nearby?" Stelle asked.

"Settlement? What a literary turn of phrase. Why, there's only one place in this world where the living still reside, our beloved Belobog! The further away you get, the dicier things become." Sampo said.

While the two of them continue their conversation, you get bored listening to them and decide to go to sleep again, not caring about the conversation they have. Dan Heng and March 7th notice that you fell asleep again.

"*sigh* She fell asleep again." March said.

"Looks like she got bored listening to their conversation." Dan Heng said, he carries you into his arms again.

"Aww, she looks so innocent when she sleeps. How come you get to carry her but I don't?" March pouts.

"Mr.Yang told me to look after her and you will probably drop her somewhere." Dan Heng stated.

"No I won't!" March argue.

Some time later, Stelle and Sampo are done talking to each other.

"By the way, why don't just take us to the city? We don't really know the way." March said.

"The city? Already? I haven't even started trading yet. Showing you the way is easy enough, missy, but it would cost-" Sampo was about to continue but Dan Heng gave him a hard glare.

"...B-But it would be my pleasure! "Kindness" is Sampo Koski's middle name. Follow me, friends, and keep quiet. We don't want to be spotted by the guards." He stutters.

Sampo guided them the path where Belobog is, and started a conversation. Sometime later they were stopped by the Silvermane Guards.

"...Who are they?" Dan Heng asked.

"Uh, you remember the Silvermane Guards I mentioned? That's them..." Sampo explained.

"Help me, old friends! I don't wanna be caught!" Sampo cowers in fear.

"It's the suspect and his accomplices! Arrest them!" A soldier said.

"It's now or never! Over to you, dear friends!" Sampo said, as he runs away from them.

"Hey! Where do you think you're- and he's gone." March deadpanned. She summons her bow and arrow ready to fight the soldiers.

Stelle, March 7th, and Dan Heng, they all fight the soldiers one by one. Dan Heng managed to avoid you getting hit while fighting off the soldier. The soldier on the other hand didn't want to accidentally hit you while you were sleeping.

When March 7th uses her burst on the soldiers but only to be blocked by someone.

He is a tall, stout man with a fair skin, blue eyes and blond hair. Gepard is dressed in thick white clothing with blue and gold trimmings and gold garments, alongside a breastplate and armor for his left hand which appears to have a blue, crystalline design.

"I, Gepard Landau, Captain of the Silvermane Guards, order you to relinquish your futile resistance." Gepard said.

"Grr, that Sampo cheated us all. Wait till I get my hands on him..." March muttered.

"Suspect! Relinquish your resistance!" A soldier said.

"Ugh, so I'm a criminal, huh? Forget Sampo, wait until I get my hands on YOU!" March said.

Dan Heng put you down and placed you away from the fight, so you wouldn't get hurt. From all the fighting they have been doing for an hour, they felt the ground began shaking and out of nowhere some blue tentacles appeared, only to wrap it on Gepard and his soldiers, squeezing them tightly.

The trio felt a dark aura around and turn where it was coming from. It was coming from you, who was woken up with their fight and feeling pissed for disturbing your dream.

"Isn't it rude to fight here when someone is enjoying their dream, hmm~?"

#honkai #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #child reader #platonic #ggz #dan heng #march 7 hsr #hsr stelle #sampo koski #gepard landau #jyahnar

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slytherhys · 6 months

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12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

In the spirit of the Holidays, I will be writing & posting short stories about the ACOTAR characters for the next 12 days. Please note that some will be shorter than others and that this is simply meant to be a fun time for everyone that loves these characters as much as I do!

PS. I'm open to requests.

You can also find this series on AO3 - as well as all my other stories.

8th day of christmas - gingerbread house

CW: Explicit Sexual Content

No Crying Over Spilled Icing (Elriel NSFW)

Elain eyed the gingerbread house in front of her with something akin to misery. Only twenty minutes ago, when she had first taken the dough out of the oven, she had been immensely proud of herself – it had been baked to perfection, neither too dry nor too moist, with a beautiful golden-brown colouring and a smell so sweet Elain had fought herself not to eat the whole thing in one go.

Buttercream had been used to make intricate, delicate patterns on what would be the walls, as well as cute little tiles for the rooftop. Candies, too, had been used aplenty. It had looked promising. Beautiful even.

But that had been before she had realised one of the walls was cut too short – something Elain hadn’t noticed until she started setting everything together – giving the house a sort of crooked, haunted look that made it resemble more a Halloween decoration than a Solstice treat. The icing, of course, hadn’t helped either. The walls barely stuck together, and the rooftop was slowly falling to its demise. Elain watched it all unfold, unblinking.

A great architect Elain did not make.

When she had first told Feyre she’d be bringing her own gingerbread house – and not one of those sets the bakery sold every Solstice – she hadn’t been expecting a building made of dessert to be so damn infuriating. She was set to leave in an hour and a half, and she doubted she had the needed time to try it all over again. She doubted she could find the will to do it in the first place.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice startled her, her eyes finally turning away from the baked mess in front of her.

“A gingerbread house.” If it could be called that. It definitely didn’t look like one.

Azriel tilted his head, eyeing the house with a stoical expression. “Are those the ones from the bakery downtown?” His eyes flickered to hers. “Cassian had mentioned how he wanted to try and build one.”

Elain huffed, suddenly affronted. “Of course not.” Maybe she should have though.

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Dumb question.” He narrowed his eyes, eyeing the eyesore with curiosity. “Why is it…slanted, though?”

“Well, first the icing melted,” She explained, hating the way her voice wavered. “And then the wall on the left was too short.” Azriel nodded along as if she was making perfect sense. “And it smelled really good, so I might’ve eaten one of the windows and now it looks weird.” She dropped her eyes again. “By the cauldron, it’s barely salvageable.”

“Why not just take the side of the roof that’s slipping away? It could probably stand, even if it’d be a little crooked.”

She bristled. “Then it’ll be a gingerbread box.” He gave no indication whatsoever that this information alarmed him. “Az, no one wants to eat a gingerbread box.”

Azriel smirked. As if it were funny. “Calm down, princess.” He looked at the mess in front of them, going around the counter so he could stand by her side. “We can fix this.” He said, and Elain watched from the corner of her eyes as he came to stand right behind her instead, his arms going around her as he reached for the gingerbread in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She gasped.

“Why, helping you, of course.”

She highly doubted he was that innocent. His scent surrounded her, the heat from his body resting upon her skin as a gentle caress. It was all Elain could do to keep her eyes open, to follow his hands as he gently studied her creation. She could hear his steady breathing, quickly realising just how close he was to her. His lips were by her ear, his front pressing against her back every so often.

“Maybe we could do a tent instead?”

Elain frowned at the suggestion. It could work, even if it felt lazy to do so. She felt his hands on her hips, caressing her as she mumbled, “I suppose so.”

He seemed pleased by her quick acceptance, the feeling of his lips so faint against her skin, it was nearly unnoticeable. “Or just accept the defeat and do something else instead.”

Elain hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes, but at the sound of his lewd proposal, she snapped them open, promptly stepping closer to the counter and stepping away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

“Am I?” He stepped closer once again, pressing his nose against her neck, his lips a breath away from touching her fevered skin. “You smell good.”

Elain nearly whimpered “That’s just the gingerbread.”

He pressed his mouth against her shoulder, nibbling softly as if he couldn’t help but taste her. “I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

She turned around, ignoring her erratic breathing. “I still need to bake another batch-” She gasped as she felt his hands on her waist, raising her so she was sitting on the counter before she could finish her sentence. “Azriel, we don’t have enough time for that.” Truth be told, she was doing very little to push him away.

Azriel, of course, noticed that as well.

“I think we have more than enough time, princess.” He said, voice raspy as he stepped even closer. Elain wasn’t sure where her body ended and where his began, but as he kissed her jaw, the corner of her mouth, it felt like the most urgent thing that he stepped even closer.

Elain nearly whimpered as he pulled away, panting as he grabbed the hem of her skirts, pulling them up at an agonising speed.

Elain, however, wasn’t to be deterred. “Someone’s cocky.” She said, far too breathy for it to mean much.

He raised an eyebrow, scarred hands trailing up her legs. “Is that a challenge princess?”

Elain ignored the goosebumps raising all over her skin, ignored the craving that seemed to throb with her every heartbeat. “If you’re up for it.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” A smirk was all the warning she got before Azriel pressed his face between her legs. Elain cried out, mindless with want. Her legs quickly wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him closer to her at the first touch of his tongue against her center. She was vaguely aware of leaning back on her hands, accidentally spilling what remained of the icing on the counter.

She couldn’t bring herself to care – she reached for his hair with her other hand, moaning as he devoured her. He moaned her name against her core as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He was a man starved, licking her, and fucking her with his tongue as if this was both the first and the last time he ever got to do this. The feeling of his large, scarred hands pulling her thighs apart, the scratch of his beard against her sensitive skin, it was all too much. Azriel had barely pushed a finger inside her before Elain was tumbling over the edge, his name on her lips as she bucked against his mouth over and over and over again.

“Sweetest fucking thing in the world.” He growled, more to himself than to her. He was panting, eyes dark as he took her in. She probably looked like a mess, panting, hands covered in icing, legs opened in a lewd display of her arousal. Elain felt herself blush under his scrutiny, but any embarrassment quickly faded as he took her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. “Turn around, princess.” He mumbled against her lips, helping her get down from the counter before lightly slapping her ass. “We’re on a schedule.”

Funnily enough, that was the furthest thing from her mind. Nothing mattered – not the party, not the spilled icing, not even the gingerbread house that had somehow ended up splattered on the kitchen floor. There was nothing but him. Not as he pushed inside her, his length stretching her as if it were their very first time together. Her every nerve-ending was on fire, her body craving him even as he filled her again and again. There were only the sounds he made as he rutted into her, the gentleness in his hands as he pulled her by her hair, the wantonness in the way he kissed her.

“You’re making such a mess, princess.” He panted against her ear, pulling down her corset, his hands quickly grabbing into her bare tits.

“Please.”

“Are you close?” Elain could do nothing but nod. He had barely pulled out of her when she was being turned around, her eyes quickly finding his as he pushed back inside in one swift move, as if he had never left. “I need to see you when you come.” And then he was wrapping her leg over his hip, filling her even deeper.

He wrapped his lips around her nipple, nibbling on the sensitive skin as his cock kept pounding into her. The feel of his mouth, of his cock… All Elain could do was scream out his name as she crashed, coming around his cock just as he spilled into her.

“Fuck.” He panted, hips still bucking against her.

Elain giggled, high on his touch. “Think I still have time to bake something?” She asked, shamelessly pressing her lips to his chest, his throat, his lips, taking them between her teeth and pulling gently. He hissed.

“Not if you keep doing that.” His gaze roved over her before finally settling on her eyes with a mischievous glint. “And I don’t think that gingerbread cake is salvageable anymore.”

Elain supposed not, but she wasn’t a quitter.

In no time – and with a lot of effort – Elain was kicking Azriel out of the kitchen, scrubbing every nook and cranny of the counter and busying herself with something else. Something quick that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Or so she had hoped.

“Where’s the gingerbread house?” Feyre asked only a few minutes later, eyeing the plain gingerbread cookies Elain had managed to bake in the measly thirty minutes she had been left with. Azriel, at Feyre’s question, gave Elain a heated stare, a smirk blooming on his lips as he casually strolled into the living room without a care in the world. Elain felt her cheeks heat up, pointedly ignoring her sister’s knowing smile. “Had a change of heart?”

Elain cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders as she made her way to the kitchen. “Sure,” she said. “let’s call it that.”

#elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #pro elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #christmas fic #gingerbread house #feyre archeron #12 days of christmas acotar edition #christmas stories #christmas #happy solstice #christmas prompts #my writing

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rivulets-of-red · 2 years

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Rivulets of Red is an upcoming 18+ Dark Fantasy/Romance IF that may not be suitable to some readers. As it has dark themes— such as references to possession, torture, death, and war— and depictions of sexual themes, profanity, alcohol consumption, and drug abuse.

You were a simple stablehand before The Great War started. Nothing more than a blip on the radar to most— less than a speck of dirt on the bottom of well worn boots to others— but that didn’t stop you from dreaming of what could be. You just never expected how much you’d wish to go back to the life of anonymity; before the fame, before the war, before the nightmares.

Blood now stained your hands a dark crimson; forever there no matter how much you may scrub them clean. The memories of glassy eyes forever ingrained into your mind.

Coming back home, to your homeland, after such a change would be hard. Adjusting to the past and present meeting once more even more so. All you could hope was that everything would become easier in time.

Until you hear a dark whisper within your mind.

Baseline Synopsis: You’re one of the few survivors of The Great War when in regards to the Front Line. Returning home to your country, Elyria, is something you’ve wanted for quite some time, but it’s much harder to acclimate than you had believed it would be. Coupled with the growing knowledge that you were returning wrong…It’ll certainly be a joyous homecoming. Will you be able to figure out what’s wrong with you before it’s too late?

Features:

Customizable: Name, gender (male, female, or non-binary), and appearance.

Was your MC a warrior? In ranged combat? In melee? Or were they a medic? You decide.

Romance 1 of 3 options.

Figure out who, or what, the voice in your head is and what it wants with you.

DEMO LINK (TBA)

Revan (M/F/NB) — The Heir

They’re ruthless to all the people that dare oppose Elyria. With a stoic mask that no one could ever hope to read, a tendency to cut deeper than any blade with their words alone, and a propensity for bloodshed; Revan was exactly the Heir their father— King Tylan— had wanted for Elyria.

Of course, Revan was also the only person to ever treat you like an actual human within the castle. Even when you had been warned to stay away from the unstoppable force that was the Crown Heir, you couldn’t help but be caught in the brilliant light that was their spirit.

They are tall (6’5”/1.95 m) with dark black hair, signature of the Raven House, with ice green eyes. Pale skin offset by the dark clothing that adorns their muscular physique. Revan is 28.

Seren (M/F/NB) — The Warrior

A survivor like yourself, but the haunted look in their eyes tell any that look upon them that they had been in the domain of Hell for much longer than you. Seren isn’t a person you’d normally be close with, but you can’t say that you mind having them by your side. Loyal to a fault, without rhyme or reason, Seren would gladly take an arrow for you without thinking twice.

You’re not sure if you’ll ever learn why Seren had been conscripted into the Army, but all you do know is that it probably has something to do with the scars that littered their body.

They are of medium height (5’8”/1.72 m) with dark bronze skin and shimmering hazel eyes. Auburn hair falls around their face in a mess of curls— usually pulled back— and their deceptively strong body is hidden behind simple tunics. Seren is 26.

Auryn (M/F/NB) — The Old Flame

If things had been different— if you hadn’t left when and how you did— you would probably be married to the gentle soul that was the Spy Master’s child. Auryn had been in your life ever since you both were children; after they had stumbled into the stable looking for a quiet place to read.

It seems the years, while being kind in terms of their elegance and beauty, have caused them to close off the world of wonder they used to speak of. A guarded, almost jaded, look etched within their gaze.

They are tall (5’11”/1.8 m) with olive toned skin and sapphire blue eyes. Honey blonde hair is lighter than you remember, but just as beautiful. Their lithe form hidden behind various cloaks and robes. Auryn is 27.

#rivulets of red #concept idea #no demo #interactive fiction #interactive novel #high fantasy #dark fantasy #romance

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wenigstenshabeichesversucht · 2 months

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Greek Tragedy

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader, Locklyle

Summary: Orpheus AU aka Orpheuswood

Warnings: angst, death of a main character, english is not my native language

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Big thanks to @uku-lelevillain and @bobbys-not-that-small for the picture!

The day you died, started like every other day. You woke up to the sun peeking through your blinds and the smell of burned toast was lingering in the air. It was like every other day, until it wasn’t. Looking back, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint when everything went down the drain. But that was definitely before a relic man slashed your abdomen with a knife and before Lockwood pulled you through a gate to the other side.

Now you were stumbling behind Lockwood clutching your wound while warm blood was seeking through your fingers. This wasn’t how you would have imagined your first trip to the other side. But to be honest, nothing Lucy and Lockwood told you could have prepared you for this.

Stepping through the gate had felt like someone had emptied an ice bucket over your head. The cold pushed every breath out of your lungs, and it didn’t matter how close you pulled your spirit-cape around you, you would never feel warm again. It was so dark, that you had to concentrate to even see your own breath forming clouds in the air. All surfaces were covered by sheets of ice and even the blood dripping from your hands froze before it could hit the ground. However, this wasn’t the weirdest part about this twisted twin of the London you knew. Even the walls of buildings, all with signs of decay, which seemed to bend to you like a flower to the sun, weren’t the strangest thing this place had to offer. What really creeped you out was the silence. You grew up in London, a city which never really slept. The silence of the night was often interpreted by the sound of cars and the sirens of ambulances. But here, in this twisted mirror of the city you loved, reigned deadly silence. Only the crunch of the ice under your hurried steps and your ragged breath broke the silence that felt like a blanket over Dark London.

You didn’t know how long you were already staggering behind Lockwood, trying to keep up with his long-hurried steps. Time worked different here. This was no place for the living, and the time to make it out alive, was rapidly running through your fingers. Or to be clear, the time for Lockwood to make it out alive was slowly running out. You wouldn’t leave this place alive. You weren’t sure, when exactly you realized it. Was it the moment, the cold stopped bothering you and your breath became as cold as the lifeless air around you? Or was it the moment you finally caught up with Lockwood, feeling more energized than ever, while he was struggling with every step? This was no place for the living, and that you were adapting could only mean one thing. On the way through this twisted city, you had died. You would never return to the warm embrace of Portland Row, your home. But Lockwood was still alive, he could go back to your friends, to your home, live his life, do all the things, you now would never have the chance to do. You had lost everything; you wouldn’t allow the same happen to him. Late you would have all the time to mourn everything lost, now you had to urge him to the gate, without him turning around and seeing, that you weren’t longer with him.

In front of you, Lockwood stumbled out of exhaustion over his own feats and your hand shot out, to stop his fall. But before a catastrophe could happen, and you could ghost touch him, he caught himself. If you were still breathing, you would have let out a breath of relief. But you had stopped breathing some time ago, your skin was cold like ice and there was something missing, where previously your heart had given a rhythm.

“Just look ahead, and we will make it, I’m right behind you”, you weren’t sure, if he could still hear you. He wasn’t a Listener, and you were on your way to become a memory. But he did what he was told.

Keeping his eyes ahead, he dragged himself in the direction of the gate. You had no troubles to keep up. If you had wanted to, you could have overtaken him. However, you were too afraid about what would happen if he would see you. So, you would guide him from your place, a few steps behind him, to safety.

On your way to the gate, Lockwood wanted to turn a few times, to check that you were still behind him. But every time, before he could fully turn and see you, you succeeded in coaxing him to just look ahead. However, everything had to end, your life and also your tour through the other side. You were only a few meters away from the gate, when Lockwood did exactly the thing, you had dreaded the whole journey. He took a look at you. His gaze flickered over you, taking in the frozen blood on your hands and your clothes, who were stained red, and you could see the exact moment he realized, what had happened. His face fell, and unconsciously he took a step towards you. You weren’t sure, who of you both looked worse, he, who looked like he walked through hell, or you, who was dead but finally at home. You were the first to find your voice.

“You have to go”, you whispered, both knowing, that he didn't have much time left. But desperate he shook his head.

“I can’t leave you here, I love you!”

If you were still breathing, that confession would have knocked out the air out of your lungs. But you were dead, and no CPR could ever bring you back. You loved him too, since the first time you met him, you loved him. And when you first met you knew that you would love him your entire life, who would have guessed, that your life would be so short? However, if you told him the truth, he wouldn’t leave you. He would stay by you; he would die by your side. Just the thought crushed your heart. Your eyes were burning, but no tears escaped.

“I’m sorry Anthony”, your voice wasn’t more than a whisper, but in this quiet place it felt like you were speaking in a microphone. “You are a great friend, but I don’t love you”, you lied smoothly and with every word leaving your lips your heart broke a bit until a pile of shards was everything that was left. However, the pain which flickered over his face, was the worst part. You never wanted to be the cause of his pain.

“You have to leave”, you reminded him a second time, and you were surprised how calm your voice sounded, while inside you everything was falling apart. You were falling apart.

“I’m sorry, if I had realized that you were hurt sooner, we could have turned back. I could have saved you.”

You both knew that you couldn’t have turned back. Going back through the gate you entered this twisted world, had never been an option. At this gate only waited the death for both of you.

“It’s not your fault. But please let me do, what you couldn’t do. Let me safe you.” Your gazes looked, and that eye contact said more than a thousand words ever could.

“Fine”, he breathed out. “I will always miss you, Portland Row, will never be the same without you.”

And you would always miss him. But you were sure, that in a few years, he would have moved on, while you would remain frozen in time. As he reached the gate, he looked a last time back at you, and you forced a pained smile on your lips.

“I lied, I love you too”, you whispered, as he stepped to the gate, forever vanishing from your sight.

8 Years later

A young woman was standing in the basement of Portland Row. She was dressed in a beautiful long white dressed, the veil had she taken off when they got home.

Now she was nervously turning the box made of silver-glass in her hands. Inside laid a ring, which once had adorned the finger of her best friend. But Lucy’s friend was dead, while Lucy was alive. Alive to marry the guy, she loved. Holding her breath, Lucy slowly opened the box. The ring inside was ice-cold, she could feel the joy and love the wearer had felt, when she was still alive. Lucy didn’t have to wait long. Not shortly after releasing the ring out of his jail, the ghostly figure of her best friend appeared. She emitted soft golden light, while she floated over the floor. Lucy knew that her friend wasn’t a Type 3 ghost, she couldn't hold a conversation. But she had to do it anyway.

“I lied, I love you too”, whispered the ghost over and over again, forever frozen in time. Lucy never had the heart to tell Lockwood what she was saying, and after some time Lockwood had taken the ring out of the box less and less often until he didn't do it at all anymore.

“Thank you for letting him go”, Lucy told the ghost of her best friend, even if she couldn’t understand, what Lucy was saying. “He is happy again, all thanks to you.”

If Lockwood had had his way eight years ago, Lucy would have lost both of her best friends.

“I will never forget you; we will never forget you!”

It was as if Lucy had spoken a magic word. Without having to put the ring back in the box, her best friend's ghost disappeared forever, finally at peace.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co fanfic #lockwood netflix #lockwood x reader #fanfic #orpheuswood #lucy carlyle #locklyle

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

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North To The Future [Chapter 9: A Long December]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: While “A Long December” was originally released by Counting Crows in 1996 (and is thus compliant with the 90s theme), the version I listen to most is Girlhouse’s cover from 2022. So maybe check that out. It is a bop!

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, a tiny bit of sexual content, Christmas with Momtini and Dadtini, Kimmie making a realization, Aegon making a drink, Appletini making plans, Trent making some killer pool shots, the Ice Fisher getting into the holiday spirit, please enjoy this nice little respite before the events of Chapter 10. :)

Word count: 6.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @hinata7346 @poohxlove @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @travelingmypassion @graykageyama @skythighs @lauraneedstochill @darlingimafangirl @charenlie @thewew @eddies-bat-tattoos @minttea07 @joliettes @trifoliumviridi @bornbetter @flowerpotmage @thewitch-lives @courtenbae @tempt-ress @padfooteyes @teenagecriminalmastermind @chelsey01 @anditsmywholeheart

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

You descend the staircase gingery, sheepishly. Your socks slip on the hardwood steps like tires on black ice. You’re trying to avoid your parents, but you can’t wait any longer to eat breakfast or you’ll be late for work. They’re bustling around in the kitchen: cracking eggs, chitchatting, banging plates and pans, cooing over Sunfyre, listening to an R.E.M. album that spins on the record player.

When you walk in, your dad is standing by the stove wearing the apron you got him for his 50th birthday. Pizza Slut, it says. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey, ladybug.”

“Oh no.”

“I heard you come home pretty late last night. And then you got right into the shower. Hmm.”

“Hmm!” your mom concurs joyfully.

Your dad nods to the pan he’s hovering over, wielding a spatula. “Salmon omelet?”

You sigh, defeated; and yet, you must admit, you love salmon omelets. “Yeah, sure.” You sit down at the table next to your mom. She’s drinking Earl Grey tea smokey with cream and reading a newspaper: Halle Barry is marrying a jazz musician, Puff Daddy’s Notorious.com is looking for a venture capitalist willing to invest $7.5 million in startup funding, a man was arrested in Times Square for threatening President Clinton, the Nasdaq composite index—fueled largely by the dot-com boom—could hit 5,000 by the end of 2000. You wonder what Aegon’s family is doing right now. Do outrageously wealthy people eat omelets and decorate Christmas trees? Do they hop from store to store in some glitzy metropolitan mall hunting for presents—KB Toys, the Disney Store, Hallmark, Bath and Body Works, Hot Topic, RadioShack, Claire’s, Wet Seal, Yankee Candle—before grabbing a late-afternoon snack at Cinnabon or Sbarro, maybe a smoothie from Orange Julius? Or do they just sit in their mansions under vast unsmiling portraits until they grow dusty and turn to stone: gargoyles, angels, lions bearing their fangs? Are they still human at all?

“How’s Trent doing?” your mom asks. “Still trying to get into the Forest Service?”

“As far as I know. But that’s not who I was with last night.”

Your dad sets an omelet down in front of you, along with a glass of orange juice and one of the same Flintstones multivitamins you’ve been taking since you were in preschool. Jesse used to give me those, you think randomly, recalling the reminders he penned in his clandestine journals. When he was around. When he was sober. Your parents exchange a wary glance. “Oh?” your dad ventures in a squeak, trying to sound casual.

You could lie, but you don’t. Juneau is too small for lies. People know each other too well, they bump elbows in grocery stores and bars and parking lots; they make overly-familiar small talk and inadvertently spill secrets. The last thing you need is someone teasing Trent good-naturedly about your supposed night of passion. He might be dumb, but if he ever gets all the pieces in his titan hands he’ll eventually figure out how they click together. “I was, uh, actually, uh…visiting Aegon.”

They watch you, faces frozen in forced, benign smiles. You pet the top of Sunfyre’s shaggy head with your left hand and stab a fork into the salmon omelet with your right. “Well, that’s great!” your dad manages. “He’s a nice boy, that Aegon. So Greek. And plenty sexy, as we’ve previously established.”

“Is he feeling better?” your mom asks politely, slurping her tea.

“Oh yeah. Much better.” It comes out way too enthusiastic, and hot blood floods into your face. Your parents chuckle…and yet their eyes are troubled, distant, though perhaps in different directions. “Just so you know, things aren’t really working out with Trent. I’m trying to let it fizzle so there isn’t any drama that makes things awkward or creates any…uh…bad blood, I guess. So if you see him around, definitely don’t mention Aegon.”

Your dad does a mock salute. “Got it, General Ladybug.”

“What are Aegon’s plans for Christmas?” your mom inquires. Your dad turns to her, but doesn’t say anything. “It must be difficult for him, being so far from home. Especially around the holidays. I would hate for him to be alone.”

Probably drinking himself into unconsciousness while watching Jingle All The Way and Die Hard. “I don’t know, that’s a good question. I should ask him.”

“He can spend Christmas here with us, if he’d like.” Your mom finishes her tea, sets the cup down on the table, fiddles with it. “We’ll have more than enough food. And we could find a few things to wrap for him so he has presents to open.”

“Now if that’s not holiday spirit, I don’t know what is!” your dad says happily; and if he’s bluffing, he’s good at not showing it. He kisses your mom on the cheek, resting his study hands on her shoulders. She smiles up at him.

You wolf down the last few bites of your salmon omelet, chew your vitamin, knock back orange juice like a shot. “Alright, I should get going, or I won’t be back in time to open the vet clinic at 9.”

“I can always hold down the fort for a few hours,” your dad offers.

“No, that’s okay. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to bother you.” I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to let you down. “You’ve earned retirement. Enjoy all the Judge Judy and Buffy The Vampire Slayer you can handle.” You pet Sunfyre and tug playfully on his ears. His tail wags at warp speed. “Are you ready to go home to your favorite person now? Are you excited?”

Your dad lumbers off into the kitchen. “Here, bring Aegon some breakfast too…” He piles a salmon omelet, a mountain of hash browns, and toast slathered with butter and strawberry jelly into a Tupperware container. You take it and glance out the window that faces the driveway.

“Oh, great. Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“The cow moose is out there licking the road salt off my Jeep. Can you get rid of her?”

“Again?! Okay, I’m on it.” He grabs some pots out of the cabinet and heads outside. You can hear him beating the pots together and shouting: “Goodbye, moose! You live in the woods, not the driveway! Goodbye! Au revoir! Adios, mooseachos!”

At the kitchen table, your mom laughs. She’s still tinkering anxiously with her cup. “Only in Alaska.”

“You’re really alright with Aegon coming over for Christmas?”

“Of course. I’d prefer it, actually. I’d rather know he’s safe. Not alone, not in trouble.”

“Even though he might end up passed out under the tree?”

She smiles: faint, tired, melancholic. “I’ve seen worse.”

When you let yourself into Aegon’s apartment, he’s dressed for work and self-medicating with a rum and Coke mixed in a cereal bowl; it’s the only dish he has that’s currently clean. Sunfyre bolts to him, barking wildly and jumping up to prop his paws on Aegon’s chest as you slide the Tupperware onto the kitchen counter.

“Hey, buddy!” Aegon cries, ecstatic. “I missed you! Yes I did! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?!”

“Where are you going?” you ask, scrutinizing him.

“Fishing,” he says simply, like this should be obvious.

“I don’t think you should be going back to work this soon. You just got out of the hospital.”

He shrugs. “I need the money.”

“I can give you money.”

“You definitely could, but I don’t want your money, I want my money. Besides, Trent won’t be able to protect my job forever. If I can’t work, Rusty will find someone else who can.”

“Trent,” you echo morosely, staring at nothing in particular.

Aegon downs the rest of his rum and Coke, then puts his bowl in the sink. He walks over to you, his oceanic eyes cautious, his lock of white-blond hair resting on his cheek. “What did he do to you? At dinner, I mean. Before you called me.”

You take his left hand and turn it over, studying the lines on his palm: past, present, future, all in a language you can’t read. You hesitate; you can’t decide what to tell Aegon. You aren’t sure what you want him to know.

“He didn’t hurt you, right? Or try to touch you in a way you didn’t want him to?”

“He kissed me. I pushed him off. That’s all.”

Aegon watches you, eyes severe and glinting. “That’s not all.”

“I tried to break up with him at the restaurant,” you confess. “First he acted like he didn’t understand. Then he got upset, offended. We agreed to slow down, but I’m not sure what he thinks that means. Maybe he’s planning a summer engagement instead of a spring one, I have no idea.”

“You made him angry.” Aegon’s voice is flat, entirely flat, like he’s battling to keep it that way. “I thought we agreed not to make him angry.”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, Aegon.”

“No no no, my bad, let me clarify, I’m not mad at you. I just don’t understand why you would be so direct about it. I’ve broken up with a lot of people without actually breaking up with them. You ignore, you deflect, you do the bare minimum, you are intentionally unappealing in every way…and then eventually they move on. That’s the way to go. That’s how you avoid confrontations.”

“I don’t want this thing with Trent to die a slow death.” Oh, perhaps a poor choice of words. “I don’t want to be with him, to even keep up the facade of being with him. I want to be with you. I want to be with you in every way, everywhere, all the time.”

Aegon smiles. He twists his fingers into your hair and touches his forehead to yours and then kisses you, softly and unhurriedly. As he pulls away, he gently bites your lower lip; his fingertips ghost across the front of your throat like a necklace, like a chain. You moan into him, unable to help it. “I won’t go to work if you don’t either,” Aegon murmurs.

“I, an eternally upstanding citizen, definitely have to go to work.”

“Man, fuck capitalism,” he says, and you laugh together.

Something occurs to you. “You didn’t wait for Kimmie to move on. You broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I had another candidate in mind for the extremely prestigious position of being my Juneau girl.”

You tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him again: heat, rum, memories from the night before. Lust stirs up in your blood like ancient silt in seawater. “Please be careful at work.”

“I will, Appletini. I will. Don’t worry. You’re always worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. There’s no point in that.”

“I think I’m just someone who’s doomed to worry a lot in general.”

He grins. “Yes. But I’m your favorite thing to worry about.” He lays his palm against your right cheek and kisses your left: quickly, lightly, like it’s routine, like he’ll be doing it every day for the rest of his life. “Have fun at the vet clinic. Saving all those furry little lives.”

“I’ll see you at Ursa Minor tonight?”

He winks. “I’ll be the one with the electric guitar.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You get stuck late at the clinic spaying Mr. Mark Morehouse’s Flemish Giant rabbit. By the time you rush through the front door of Ursa Minor—bells jangling, a gust of cold wind at your heels, patrons glancing over with vague interest—the band is already performing. Aegon is wearing his cuffed jeans, black combat boots, and, in a radical departure from his usual color scheme, a royal blue turtleneck sweater. He’s braided a section of his hair on the left side of his head and woven a single, small, blue-dyed rose into it. He gives you a subtle nod when he sees you come in, a sly half-smile. He’s singing a punk rock, up-tempo version of Counting Crow’s A Long December.

“I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving, now the days go by so fast…”

“Heyyy, bitch!” Heather greets you, raising her Sex On The Beach. Joyce and Kimmie are swaying together, brandishing lighters in the air: Joyce smirking and reluctant, Kimmie—a born groupie—shamelessly exuberant. You swing by the bar to get a Bacardi Breezer (blueberry, very good, one of the better flavors) and stand beside Heather. You gaze at Aegon as he strums his battered guitar, and the parallel strikes you for the first time. Aegon too is layered with imperfections: scars, marks, ink, demons with gnashing fangs and needlelike fingers that dangle past their knees. And yet what he gives to the world is so beautiful. And yet he is so goddamn miraculous.

“I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself to hold on to these moments as they pass…”

It takes you a long time to notice that Kimmie is watching you. Something clicks like a dislocated joint popped back into its socket; and that’s the way it’s always been with Kimmie, since she was a child, since she was a five-year-old chasing boys around the playground at recess. The hints pile up—a lot of hints, sometimes years of hints—until eventually there’s an avalanche of realization that hits and drags her under like a rogue wave. She sucks in a breath and her doelike eyes shoot wide open. You try to pretend you didn’t see anything, but that’s not Kimmie’s style. She pushes her way through the audience and grabs your wrist, hauling you away from the crowd. Heather observes this, slurping down her Sex On The Beach, trying to ascertain if you need reinforcements.

“What—?!”

“I didn’t know,” Kimmie says, like it’s an apology. Her eyes are pained and fearful, a deer bathed in headlights.

“You didn’t know what?”

“That you’re in love with him.” Her voice is reedy and trembling. She’s petrified, you realize. She’s afraid that I’ll never be able to be her friend again. Not a true friend, not a pure one. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I even asked you first. I never would have hooked up with him if I had known, never, never. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t like we had real feelings for each other—”

“Kimmie, Kimmie, it’s fine,” you soothe, rubbing her shoulder. She’s wearing a ridiculously fluffy hot pink sweater; it’s like petting a neon sheep. “I’m the one who wasn’t upfront with you. I didn’t think Aegon and I had a chance, so I was purposefully trying to avoid him, to avoid any feelings I had for him. It didn’t work out that way, but…yeah. Anyway. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“Oh my god, so you’re together? Like, together?” Kimmie blinks at you, shocked but not scandalized. You’re not sure it’s possible to scandalize Kimmie.

“We don’t really want everyone to know about it.”

“Oh, because of Trent?”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Maybe some of those genius professor genetics made it down the Plinko board after all. “Exactly.”

“Jesus Christ, he’d probably snap Aegon in half if he knew. Like a freaking KitKat bar.”

“That’s a mental image I didn’t need.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Kimmie swears, empowered by this rare, consequential responsibility.

“I really, really appreciate your discretion.”

“You and Aegon, wow…” She mulls it over, baffled. “So you’re pretty kinky too? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You should have told me! We could have gone shopping together!”

Shopping with Kimmie for fuzzy handcuffs and riding crops and, who knows, probably like vibrating butt plugs or something. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that. I will most likely never be emotionally prepared for that. “Boundaries, Kimmie. Honestly, I haven’t seen that side of him. At least not in my albeit limited experience.”

“Huh,” Kimmie says brightly. “I guess he’s in love with you too.” And then she trots off to rejoin the crowd. Boat #27 has concluded their performance and is accepting cheers of acclaim and complimentary drinks from their adoring fans. Joyce hugs Rob, climbing onto her tiptoes and giggling. Joyce!? Giggling!?!? You grab another Bacardi Breezer before heading over, raspberry this time.

“Hey, babe!” Trent booms when he sees you.

Oh god. Oh no. You shrink away when he throws an arm across your shoulders. Aegon watches this as he approaches, sipping a rum and Coke, eyes like blue embers.

“Right,” Trent groans, like it’s some grave inconvenience, like it’s some passing fad he has to endure. “I remember now. We’re taking things slow.”

The clique assembles by the pool table like battle-ready Power Rangers: you, Trent, Joyce, Rob, Heather, Kimmie, Aegon. “Someone should play!” you say, truly a master of redirection.

Trent flips his hair. “Obviously I’m down.” He looks at you expectantly. You ignore him, drinking your Bacardi Breezer and then pretending to drink it once it’s empty.

“Oh, you are going down.” Heather cracks her knuckles and grins, then picks up a cue stick.

“Battle royal!” Rob announces. Joyce sighs and pulls a fantasy novel out of her purse. Kimmie perches on the edge of the pool table: legs crossed, eyes roving, gold hoop earrings glittering under Christmas lights, seeking attention and drawing it to her like Saturn ensnares moons. A gaggle of bashful men appear out of nowhere to worship her. Dale’s stereo pipes out Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Dale himself is wearing a red Santa hat and yawning boredly into the back of his hand.

“I need another drink,” you say, and head for the bar. Aegon follows you.

“You don’t want a Bacardi Breezer.”

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.” He flags Dale over once you’ve claimed your seats. “Hey Dale, did you get the stuff on the list I gave you?”

“Sure did.” Dale sets an array of items on the bar: apple juice, lemon juice, florescent green apple schnapps, vodka, a single Granny Smith apple, a paring knife, a shaker halfway filled with ice, a small plate covered with sugar, two chilled martini glasses. “You owe me, though. Especially for the schnapps. I had to order a case all the way from Seattle!”

“Add it to my tab.”

“Which you’ll pay when? In 2023?”

“I’ll pay, Dale!” Aegon insists.

Dale rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem genuinely annoyed. “Sure you will.” He yawns again and ambles away to take the orders of some locals sitting at the other end of the bar. The thuds of his boots are heavy and slow on the hardwood floor, the same one Aegon almost died on nine days ago.

“What are we doing?” you ask, but you’re already smiling. You have a pretty good guess.

“We’re making appletinis,” Aegon replies.

“You knew how to make appletinis this entire time and never said anything?”

“Oh no, I definitely did not,” he says. “I found the phone number of a friend I met back in San Francisco and figured she might know. She’s a bartender. So I gave her a call and asked very, very nicely and sure enough, she had a recipe.” He pauses, contemplative. “I told her I was in Chicago. Just in case.”

Just in case his ghost manages to track her down. “Have you seen this friend naked?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” you say, and you find that you mean it. Aegon is here with you now, and that’s all you can ask for. Still, his commitment to relative honestly seems enduring.

“The answer is yes. But it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“Really, it doesn’t matter. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Yeah, you don’t look mad.”

You smile at each other, Christmas-light sparks in your eyes, alone in a crowded room. Well…alone except for Mariah Carey. “Anyway,” you prompt. “Am I getting a real-life appletini or what?”

“Let’s do this. Uh…” He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Okay. I think I know how it goes.” He adds apple juice and lemon juice to the shaker. He doesn’t measure; he estimates, splashing in a little at a time until he’s content. He caps the container, gives it a few vigorous shakes, then opens it again. He pours in the schnapps and vodka, then shakes again. “Cut a few slices off the apple, vet lady. Nice and thin.”

You do, four transparent crescent-moon slivers. Aegon rubs lemon juice around the rim of each martini glass with his ring finger and then dunks them in the sugar until the rims are covered in fine white crystals like snow. He garnishes the martini glasses with the apple slices, gives the shaker one last whirl, then empties the contents into the glasses: half for you, half for him. He hands you your introductory appletini and toasts his glass against yours.

“On three?” Aegon asks, and you nod, beaming. You count together: one, two, three.

Your first taste isn’t a tentative sip. You take a full, brave swallow of the vivid green brew. It’s jarringly sour, sticky-sweet, crisp and refreshing like springtime. “Oh, I love it!” you trill.

“It’s…uh…” He takes another investigative slurp. “It’s definitely appley.”

“You hate it,” you say, laughing.

“I don’t hate it,” he counters. “I like what it’s doing to you.”

You close your eyes, the sights and sounds of Ursa Minor fading away. You’re somewhere sleek and vibrant and new; you’re in New York City, you’re in Los Angeles, you’re in Las Vegas, you’re in San Diego. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling. “Sorry. I was teleporting.”

“Do you want the rest of mine?”

“Yeah,” you admit guiltily, and he slides his appletini over to rest by yours. You drain them both. “I’m like Jack Dawson. I’m the king of the world.”

“You’re very, very cute when you’re tipsy, that’s what you are.”

“My parents think you should spend Christmas with us. I think you should too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay. Don’t buy me anything fancy, though. I won’t be able to return the favor.”

“Sad impoverished homeless man gifts only. You have my word.”

“Hey!” Heather calls from the pool table. She’s waving her cue stick in the air. “I lost! I’m a loser! I got slaughtered by this jumbo-sized motherfucker! And you weren’t even here to witness it!”

“We should go over there,” you tell Aegon, and he steadies you when you wobble as you slide off the barstool. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. Now I have an excuse to touch you.”

“Dale, can I get some Chex Mix or something?” He tosses you a little blue bag from behind the bar. You miss it completely. It sails over your head and smacks into the floor. Aegon cackles hysterically, but fetches the bag. He even opens it before he hands it to you. Then you set off together for the pool table.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heather asks when you arrive, her eyes narrow.

“I like appletinis. I really like appletinis.”

“It’s December 22nd, the commencement of Capricorn season, and you are celebrating this momentous event with an uncharacteristic display of recklessness and frivolity? Inauspicious!”

“What did I miss? Besides your humiliation.”

“Flintstones vitamins,” Rob says, rubbing blue chalk on a cue stick. He and Trent are playing pool now; Trent is showing Kimmie and several of her sycophants, including Matt and Gary, how he can make a shot with his hands behind his back. Aegon circles the pool table, his hands in his jeans pockets, watching Trent reticently. “Childish and stupid or totally acceptable for mid-twenties adults?”

“Totally acceptable,” you declare, munching on Chex Mix. “I just had one this morning.”

“That’s what I said!” Kimmie cries. “They’re delicious. I could eat a whole bottle of them. I used to lie to my mom when I was a kid and insist she hadn’t given one to me yet so I could get extra. My high score was five in a day.”

“That can’t be good for you,” Heather says. “Wait. Maybe it explains some things.”

“A lot of things,” Joyce quips, turning a page in her book.

Kimmie defers to you, the foremost medical authority present. “Vitamins can’t hurt people, right?”

“Well, that depends on the vitamin.”

“Some can,” Aegon says. “The fat-soluble ones, because your body can’t flush them out as easily or something. Too much Vitamin A can really fuck someone up. There are people who’ve died because they ate a polar bear liver, which has, like, millions of units of Vitamin A. So if you ever happen to eat a polar bear, skip the liver.”

“You can overdose on vitamins?” Kimmie asks him, puzzled. “Like, vitamins can kill you?”

“Oh yeah, lots of things can kill you if you take enough of them. Too much Vitamin A can cause seizures and comas, Vitamin D can give you a heart attack, Vitamin E can make you hemorrhage out of your eyeballs and stuff. And it causes strokes.”

“Oh snap!” Kimmie exclaims in horror, thinking that perhaps she barely escaped with her life. Heather is thoroughly amused.

You look at Aegon as he passes by you like a satellite whirling around the Earth, a blinking light in suffocating darkness. He’s right, but he shouldn’t be. He hasn’t studied medicine. He hasn’t studied much of anything. “How do you know all that?”

He replies curtly: “How do you think?” And then he resumes his orbit.

Rob attempts a shot and misses. “Ha!” Trent says, flipping his hair, and then starts lining up his own. As he leans over the pool table, he asks you: “So, where were you last night?”

Your mind, already hazy, goes useless. Cold sweat bubbles up out of your pores. “What? At home.”

“No you weren’t.” His eyes are on you like a wolf’s, like a beast’s. “I called the house. A couple times, actually. I felt weird about how we left things and wanted to apologize. But no one answered.”

“Oh, sorry, I mean I was at home, but then I went to go bowling with my parents.”

“No you didn’t.” Trent’s cue stick hits the striped red ball, number 11, and sends it hurtling into a pocket. “I already asked Dale. He’s in the bowling league, and he said you weren’t there.”

Two lies. And I don’t have a third. You stand there helplessly, surrounded by Christmas lights and tinsel and pine trees, your thoughts churning slowly, slower, dragging to a full stop. The chatter around you dies down. Wide eyes dart between you and Trent. Joyce closes her book. Even Dale is peeking over from the bar. His face is crisscrossed with lines of disapproval, of fascination.

“Where were you, huh?” Trent takes a step closer. He’s huge. He’s so fucking huge. Aegon picks up the black 8 ball off the pool table; no one else notices but you.

“Trent,” Heather scolds her brother, stunned. “Take a chill pill—”

“Where were you?!” Trent demands.

You try to conjure up an excuse, any excuse. All you can think of is how badly you don’t want to end up at the bottom of an ice-covered lake. I can’t die, I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t been anywhere yet. I haven’t seen San Diego.

Trent begins one final time, still clutching the cue stick, his voice deafening: “Where were—?!”

“She was with me!” Kimmie bursts out, and everyone spins towards her. “I, um, I was upset. Devastated, in fact. Because of, um. Boy problems.”

Heather titters nervously. “What else is new.”

“So I called and I was an absolute blubbering mess on the phone and she offered to come over and hang out. Watch Buffy with me. Do my nails and stuff. It’s really embarrassing.” She smiles at you, a soft glowing smile. “Thanks for trying to keep my secret.”

“No problem, Kimmie,” you reply shakily.

“Oh, babe!” Trent says, his face splitting into a smile, pressing a hand into the small of your back. He even flips his hair in that simpleminded, horselike way. He can’t be the Ice Fisher. He can’t be…right? You flinch when he touches you. On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon rolling the black 8 ball back onto the pool table. “That’s all?! You should have told me!”

“It really wasn’t my situation to share.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” Trent seems to mean it. “I’m really sorry. That was a dick move, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hulk smash?” Rob says, and there is laughter, quivering with fresh relief.

“I think I have to go,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “I’m really not feeling great.” And that part’s not even a lie. “I shouldn’t have mixed Bacardi Breezers and appletinis, I’m a total lightweight. And I have work in the morning. I’m supposed to vaccinate like ten of Mr. Campbell’s reindeer.”

“You want me to drive you home?” Trent offers.

No! Definitely not! “Thanks, but I couldn’t bear to interrupt your pool game. Especially when you’re winning.” You can tell Aegon is looking at you. You intentionally don’t acknowledge him. And now you realize that you’re a little trapped: you can’t say you’re driving yourself home because you’re not sober, and you can’t say that Aegon is walking you back to his apartment because then Trent might murder you both right here in the middle of Ursa Minor, blood splattering the deer heads mounted on the wall, femurs and vertebrae littering the pool table.

“I’ll do it!” Heather volunteers. “I’m super not-wasted at the moment.”

“Um, well…”

“Come on.” She’s already going to get your parka off the coatrack. “I can’t in good conscience let you vaccinate those reindeer without a full night’s sleep.” You trail after her, powerless to refuse.

Out in the night-draped parking lot, you haul yourself—with some difficulty—into Heather’s Chevy Suburban. And as she turns the key in the ignition and begins defrosting the windshield, you tell her: “When you leave the lot, make a left, not a right.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Aegon’s apartment.”

“I’m…?” She gapes at you as it sinks in like an anchor through dark surf. “Oh my god. Oh my god…?!”

“Affirmative.”

“Oh. My. GOD.” She puts the Suburban in drive and, as requested, makes a left onto Main Street.

Sunfyre is delighted to see you when you arrive. He leaps, barks, pirouettes in circles, accepts copious scratches and Milk-Bone treats. You collapse onto the threadbare couch, and he stretches out on the floor beside you, his quiet snoring soon the only sound in the apartment. Your eyes blur, flutter, close up shop. Maybe twenty minutes later, you hear a key rattling in the front door.

Aegon walks inside, his boots dripping with snow. He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. “You alright, Appletini?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of woozy but I mostly just wanted to leave.” You consider him, wondering how to ask him the question that won’t leave your mind. It claws at the arched walls of your skull like a trapped animal, leaving streaks of blood where its nails were torn away.

“I don’t want to talk about the vitamin thing,” he says.

“I don’t want to talk about Trent.”

“Deal.”

He throws off his parka and boots, turns on the X-Files, and crawls onto the couch with you. You fold into him and he holds you, not hungrily, not asking for a thing. You freefall into sleep with your head against his chest, his heartbeat a distant roar like thunder.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Ice Fisher has left Juneau a Christmas present: Stephanie Nolan, his fifth victim. She was twenty-five years old, an avid knitter, a Blockbuster employee, mother of several adopted Himalayan cats, one of three sisters born barely a year apart. At least her parents still have some children left, you think. At least the pressure to make their sacrifices worthwhile wasn’t all on her. Your dad sneaks a few minutes of news coverage while your mom is in the shower. They’re replaying the press conference that Chief of Police Eugene Baker gave late last night on Christmas Eve.

“We urge all Juneau residents to remain vigilant. This is the time of year for celebrations and get-togethers, and we don’t want to discourage that in any way, but no one—and I repeat, no one—should be outside alone, especially not after dark. Ms. Nolan left her place of employment to take a ten-minute smoke break, and that was all the opportunity the killer needed. He is still out there, he is still dangerous, and no one is immune from becoming a target. If you have any information relevant to this case, anything at all, please call our anonymous 24/7 hotline at…”

There are camera flashes, uneasy clamoring, flailing hands of reporters begging to be called on. Your dad crosses his arms over his broad chest, his face grim. A reporter asks Chief Baker: “I understand that the Juneau PD has brought in FBI profilers to help them identify possible suspects. Can you share any new theories with the public at this time?”

“Well, there are a couple likely possibilities. The Ice Fisher might be someone who is new to the area, someone who arrived this past summer or early autumn. Residents should therefore be extremely wary of newcomers. However, it might be the case that the killer isn’t new to the area at all, but rather suffered some sort of destabilizing event—loss of employment, for example, or the death of a loved one—that triggered their otherwise dormant violent impulses. The last theory I’m prepared to share today is that the criminal now known as the Ice Fisher might have been active long before this recent string of murders. Some serial killers have been known to…to test the waters, so to speak…with murders that can be camouflaged as accidental or natural deaths. That’s a possibility in this case, and we are combing back through the department archives to see if there are any answers there…”

“I should go pick up Aegon,” you say.

“Ladybug…” Your dad stalls, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “I’m not saying that I think Aegon is the killer, because I don’t think he is. I know he’s not, actually. He doesn’t have much rage in him. He has a lot of other things, I believe, but not that. I’m just saying…you have to be careful. And he can’t keep an eye out for you if he’s passed out drunk somewhere. Do you get what I mean?”

“I understand, Dad. I’m careful. Really, I am. And I’m never running around town alone. If I’m not with Aegon, I’m with Heather or Kimmie or Joyce.”

“Or Trent,” he adds. He likes this idea; Trent might not be able to snap a murderer in two like a KitKat bar, but he could definitely crack a few ribs. Trent would be a great Mortal Kombat character. He could skewer foes with a cue stick, right through the eye socket. An icy shudder rocks down your spine.

“Or Trent.”

“Okay. Good.” He turns back to the tv, his eyes vacant, his voice low. “Just making sure.”

Aegon is dressed in his Christmas best: dark jeans, black Converses, his hair loose and wavy, a festive red sweater with Gizmo from Gremlins on it. You’ve opted for a more traditional Rudolph turtleneck. Sunfyre has a large red bow tied to his collar. The three of you ride together back to your parents’ house, the radio playing Celine Dion’s O Holy Night, one of the back windows rolled halfway down for Sunfyre.

Dinner is a reindeer roast, rosemary apple stuffing, potato gratin, homemade macaroni and cheese, and creamed spinach; dessert is Christmas cookies eaten under the tree. You open presents as a parade of classics play on the tv: Frosty The Snowman, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Year Without A Santa Claus. Your parents give Aegon cold-weather clothing like hats and mittens, which he accepts with great appreciation. He gives them a bouquet of blue roses and three bottles of red wine, only one of which he drinks himself. You give Aegon a refrigerator magnet from Caribou Crossings, a grizzly bear with a salmon caught between its teeth, something to join the rest of his collection, something to help him remember Juneau once he’s gone. He gives you a handful of seashells from San Diego that he’s been carting around in his luggage for a year. Everyone gives Sunfyre Milk-Bones.

When Aegon takes the golden retriever out to the backyard, your dad goes with them. You can see them talking out there as snow falls and the sun sets and the horizon is inked with violet and gold, the wind whipping fiercely: Aegon’s hands moving in wild, dramatic gestures, your dad nodding along. They’re gone for so long you start to worry, your fingers trembling as you and your mom play chess with the new set you received for Christmas, not black and white but pet-themed: one side dogs, the other cats.

Your dad comes back inside first. He shuts the door and says to you, not accusatory but merely intrigued: “I didn’t know you were serious about wanting to travel, ladybug.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. One day. When I’m retired, I guess. Doesn’t everyone want to travel?”

“Huh. Aegon made it sound a bit more urgent than that.”

He watches you defeat your mom in chess, makes her some mollifying Earl Grey tea, and then offers to play Scrabble with her, a proposition she can never resist. When Aegon brings Sunfyre back inside—the sky fully dark now, the stars rising behind the veil of clouds—you lead him upstairs to your room. You sit on your bed together and flip through your travel magazines, scenes of Paris, Cairo, New York City, Rome, Tokyo, Cape Town, Buenos Aires, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, Sydney, Las Vegas, Cusco, Athens, Mexico City, Nairobi, California.

“It’s strange,” Aegon says. “Your parents like me, but they also kind of don’t like me. It’s as if they’re afraid of me. I can’t figure them out.”

You think of the cardboard box under your bed, the one full of Jesse’s journals. “My mom was married before. Vince is her second husband.”

Aegon looks over at you, attentive but not understanding. “Okay.”

“I was five years old when they got together. So Vince is my dad, but he’s not…like…he’s not biologically…well, you get what I’m saying.”

Aegon closes the magazine he’d been skimming, still looking at you.

“My mom’s first husband was named Jesse. And he was…from what I understand…he was a lot like you.” You tap your index finger against the crook of your own elbow so Aegon will understand. He was brilliant, but he was an addict. He was a blessing, he was a curse.

Aegon nods slowly. “I guess that explains a lot.”

“I probably should have told you sooner. But I’ve never really told anyone.”

“What happened to him?”

“He drowned in the channel. Maybe it was an accident, maybe suicide. Maybe it doesn’t matter which one. Maybe there isn’t much of a difference.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aegon says, his voice quiet and gentle.

“I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“It won’t. I told you. I’m not that easy to kill.”

You wonder if Aegon has become a ghost to his family, if he haunts the Targaryens like Jesse haunts you, half-comforting, half-heartbreaking, if after six long silent years his shadow still lurks in corners and doorways. You wonder if a ghost is really so far from what you are. “I want to stop feeling like a potential person, to stop waiting for the life I’ve always dreamed of to drop out of the sky. I want to feel real.”

“You’re real to me.” He dusts his thumbprint across the curve of your cheekbone, flesh and blood that sing to each other. “Listen, we’ll go to San Diego together.”

“Don’t, Aegon.”

“No, I mean it,” he says. “Give me a month to save up, and we’ll go. We’ll take a long weekend and fly down there. It won’t be hot enough to swim, but it’ll be warmer than here. Sixties, sunny, sandy, waves and tacos. We’ll stay somewhere with a waterbed. Those can be a lot of fun.”

“Careful. I might not want to leave the hotel room. What a waste of a trip that would be.”

“I’ll just have to make sure you’re bored of me by then,” he purrs, grinning and mischievous, dragging you into his lap. He smooths your hair back from your face, gazing up at you as you straddle him. He kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck; his teeth skate across your skin without biting down, without leaving indigo bruises of ownership. Slowly, he turns solemn and hushed. Slowly, you begin to worry about him.

“What, Aegon?”

“You’re the best present I ever got. I hope you know that.”

You whisper through his windswept white-blond hair: “Then open me.”

He lays you down on the bed, unearths your needful bare skin and stifles his moans against your throat, unravels you like a blood-red ribbon from a box heavy with secrets.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader

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musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

Text

Love at the Top

Pairing: Teacher Ben x f! Teacher reader

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This was an ask that was pm to me from @fishingforpike and I couldn't pass! I hope it's what you want (and if you want a smutty part 2 I may be down for writing that)

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Love at the Top Part 2

Graduating wasn't easy. Interviewing for my first big job was harder. But the hardest so far is this. Teaching high school English fresh out of college - and I know no one at this school.

I moved to a new city right after graduation after accepting the English teaching position so not only was it my first real degree job, but it was in a new city with a whole new culture. And I was teaching high school. Which shouldn't be an issue because I'm 24 which means I can still relate to the youth of today, right?

I hope so.

I completed all of the new hire orientation at the district building. Today I finally get to see my classroom and start setting up while navigating all of the back to school meetings and having everyone point out "the new teacher". I hope there aren't any ice breaker games.

"Welcome back everyone!" The principal starts the all staff meeting with a typical speel of announcements.

"Before we continue, let's do some ice breakers to get us into that back to school spirit!"

Damn.

He starts to pair us up, trying to match people outside of what they teach.

"And Ben, you'll be with the new English teacher." He gestures between me and a man I've not met yet.

Ben turns to face me and my stomach jumps into my throat. He is gorgeous. All dark eyes and graying dark hair, button up shirt tucked into his dress slacks with a tie that says "Science ROCKS!" on it with pictures of rocks all over it. He has black framed glasses which he's taken off his face to fiddle with nervously as he stands, walking to me.

"H-hi. I'm Ben." He holds his hand out and I shake it, noticing that his palms were slightly sweaty.

I tell him my name. "Nice to meet you."

We get through the ice breaker game and I find myself crushing hard on Ben with his shirt tucked into his pants.

The meeting resumes and everyone goes back to their seats. I find myself stealing glances at Ben across the room and I swear I catch his eyes a few times but there's no way he's looking at me, right?

The meeting ends and I gather up my things, trying to remember how to get to my room from here when I feel someone walk up to me. Turning, I see Ben, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He leans in and speaks quietly to me.

"Need help getting back to your room?"

"How did you know?"

He smiles and now I know I'm in trouble. "Happens for all of us. What's your room number?"

"Uh…" I check my paper. "148-B."

"Oh that's not far from me. I'll take you there.. if…if you'd like?"

"I'd love that, thank you."

Ben escorts me to my room and looks around at the bare walls and boxes stacked everywhere.

"You have some work ahead of you."

I sigh. "Oh yeah. I haven't had a moment to unpack anything."

"Do you want some help?"

"Oh. Um.. I don't think so." Really I'd have him stay but this is my first room and I'd like to set that up myself.

He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Ok. Well if you change your mind, I'm in 140-A. Just at the end of the hall."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

We stand there for several awkward moments before he gives me a little wave and heads out the door. What the fuck was that? I can't have a crush on a coworker already.

I start to unpack, the room slowly coming together. I find myself thinking about Ben and when I can't take it anymore, I decide to set aside some posters that I'll say I need help with.

I head down to his room and take a breath, gently knocking on the door.

"Come in."

I push open the door and have to pause - his room is heavily decorated, earth science posters plaster the walls, stacks of books around the edges, bins and bins of rocks are everywhere. It feels like organized chaos and I love it. Wait, is that a lightsaber in the corner?

"Oh hey. How's the room coming?"

"It's..nowhere near as cool as yours."

Is he blushing? "I - my room's a mess. Especially compared to yours I'm sure."

"I think it's wonderful."

"Th-thanks."

A few moments pass before I work up the courage to ask.

"I- could you help me hang a few things? I just don't want to fall off a chair."

"Y-yeah. Of course!" He walks towards me.

I point to the corner. "Is that a lightsaber?"

Now I know he's blushing. "I uh… yeah." He sounds embarrassed.

"I have Ashoka's. What color is yours?"

His eyes snap to mine, a light igniting behind them. "Green. You have a lightsaber too?"

"2, technically. I'd love to get my own at Disney one day."

He smiles wide. "Oh it's a great experience! That's where I got that one from. So you're a Star Wars fan then?"

I nod. "Absolutely."

"Are you old enough to see them in theaters?"

I laugh. "Well not the original ones, but yeah. I was little and they were re-releases but that's when I fell in love. They were my first movies in theaters."

We chat about Star Wars all the way back to my room and while he puts up the posters I could've easily hung myself. Once he finishes, he turns to me, dropping his voice quieter than normal.

"Ok, want the real low down on the school?"

"Ooo yes!"

He chuckles. "Ok my young Padawan." He launches into a mini Ted talk about the best bathrooms, which stairs cases to avoid, the sticky elevator, which lunch lady will sneak you extra food, although I have a sneaking suspicion that applies to Ben only.

"Thank you so much, Ben! What would I have done without you?"

He waves a hand. "I'm sure you would've been fine."

"Can I buy you lunch tomorrow?"

He starts coughing violently but waves me off when I move to help him. "What?"

"As a thank you. Can I buy you lunch?"

"Oh really you don't have to."

"Of course I don't. But I want to. What are the good spots?"

"You don't want to go to lunch with an old man like me."

I blow a raspberry at him. "Please. You aren't old."

"I'm 47. And you're what, 20?"

"24. And stop acting like you're 120. You're only 47."

"It's a 23 year difference."

"So you've done the math between us?"

What did I just say?

He blushes hard, hands not sure whether they want to settle on his hips or cross his broad chest. "N-no. I mean it's simple math."

I nod, trying to hide my own embarrassment. "It is. But it's not bad. We get along just fine, don't we?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. "I-yeah but…wouldn't your boyfriend mind?"

Is he fishing?

"It's a thank you lunch so it wouldn't matter even if I had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend."

He says nothing, studying me. "A simple thank you is just fine, Padawan."

"No matter how much I insist, you're going to turn me down aren't you?"

He nods. "Afraid so."

"Suit yourself. I was going to see if we could catch the early bird special."

He puts his hand on his chest in mock shock. "Is that an old person joke?"

"It would be if you were old."

—----

That first week back for teachers flies by, mostly thanks to Ben. He's helped me decorate and setup nearly my entire room, helping me with every vision I had as "It's your first classroom so you decorate it how you want."

Then it's time for students.

Ben comes in early that first day and drops by my room, quietly handing me a cup of coffee he'd brought me from a local coffee shop, telling me I'll be brilliant on my first day after seeing the nerves in my eyes.

"You've learned so much, Padawan. They'll love you. Just don't show them any weakness and you'll be good."

"What?"

He waves, giving me a smirk as he heads back through the door. "You'll be great!"

Somehow I make it to lunch without vomiting. The kids were actually not too bad so far. And I get to see Ben at lunch.

He's saved me a seat, sliding me a peanut butter cup when I sit across from him in the teacher's lounge.

"How did you know I needed this?" I ask him, eagerly peeling back the paper and stuffing the entire cup into my mouth.

He smiles. "I just had a feeling."

—----

We settle into a routine, spending our lunch time chatting about anything and everything, popping into each other's classrooms with some random excuse to just say hi, students or not.

A couple months later, one of my students approaches me, handing me her class work as I take a sip of water.

"Miss, are you dating Mr. Ben?"

I choke on my water, throwing my hands in the air. "I-what?"

She's smiling at me. "You're dating aren't you?"

"Uh… no we aren't. We're just good friends."

"Uh huh."

"Why would you ask that?"

"You're just always with each other. I thought you were together."

I bring this up to Ben when I drop by his room during planning period. He blushes furiously, red creeping up his cheeks as he removes his glasses to wipe at them nervously.

"What, uh what did you tell her?"

"That we weren't dating. Just good friends."

He nods, his eyes looking a little sad. "I can't believe they'd think you'd date an old fart like me."

I laugh. "You're not that old, how many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You're closer to them in age than to me."

He's not wrong.

"That's just numbers. Besides, none of them have those little gray hairs in their hair."

His fingers come up to run at his hair. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"Not at all. Trust me, it works."

His eyes meet mine and they shift ever so slightly down to my lips before flicking back up. He opens his mouth to say something bit then the bell rings, extinguishing any sort of spark we felt in that moment.

—-----

The State Fair comes to town and it's all the students can talk about. Apparently it's a big thing here and so, I decide not to give them homework and even push back their planned test, which earns me a class full of whoops and hollers every period.

At lunch, I mention this to Ben who chuckles and says I may have surpassed him as favorite teacher now.

"Oh please, all the kids love you."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "I have no clue why."

"Really? You're a fantastic teacher and really take the time to get on their level so they understand the subject."

He stares at me. "You- you think?"

"I love watching you teach. It's obvious you care and the kids can pick up on that."

He blushes, red dusting his cheeks as he turns to his sandwich, mumbling a "thanks".

"So this state fair is a big thing?"

He nods, swallowing the bite of sandwich. "Huge. It's not small either, has concerts and livestock shows, typical fair food and rides, and a bunch of other stuff."

"Sounds fun. I've never been to a fair."

He chokes and I jump, moving around the table to thump him on the back.

"Y-you've never b-been to a fair before?"

I shake my head. "Nope. Parents didn't want to pay for it."

"Well you have to go then!"

"By myself?"

"Fairs aren't fun alone. I'll take you."

Silence stretches between us as his eyes grow wide when he realizes what he said.

"I mean as friends, of course."

I smile, letting it not reach my eyes. "Of course."

"I uh… I'll pick you up Saturday morning?"

"Sounds perfect."

—----

I swear I've tried on everything I own and I can't settle on something to wear. It's not like it's a date, but it feels like something… more. I don't know how to explain it but I know I want to wear non school work clothes.

I finally settle on a sundress, pale green with embroidered flowers and vines running across it and pair it with some short boots, not wanting to walk across dirt in sandals.

The knock at my door comes promptly at 11am, exactly when he said he'd pick me up. I grab my bag and open the door, smiling wide at his choice of black slacks and a light blue top that somehow brings out his eyes. I've never seen this man in a color that he can't pull off.

"HI Ben! Wait…does your bow tie have little Earths on it?"

He smiles nervously, fingers twisting his bow tie. "Yeah it does! Do you like it?"

"I do!"

His smile is brighter, but then his eyes rake down my body and something shifts in him, his eyes becoming darker.

"Y-you look…"

"Oh. Is this not fair appropriate? I can change-"

"No! I mean, no. It's perfect. You're perfect."

"What?"

"I uh said come on let's go."

—----

He wasn't kidding - this fair is huge.

He insists on paying, buying parking and my entrance ticket, helping me decide which fair foods to try as I'd never had any of them. We hit up the petting zoo, a livestock show that one of our mutual students was competing in, and looked at all of the vendors, some selling some really unique things.

Then it was time for rides.

We went on several different ones before I needed a break, noticing the relief on Ben's face when I insisted we rest. The sun was starting to set, so Ben said we should rest on the ferris wheel.

"You have to catch the sunset from the ferris wheel," he insists.

I don't have the heart to tell him I'm not a huge fan of heights.

We get in the cart and pull the bar down and I think I'm doing OK…until we move. The second we start to ascend, my hand flies out and I grip Ben's thigh, trying to basically insert myself into his lap.

"Are you ok?" He asks as we continue to climb, cart stopping every few feet to let someone else in.

"I… I'm g-good."

"You're gripping my thigh."

I try to let go but I can't. "Ok… I'm terrified of heights."

We make it to the top and the wheel starts to move slowly around and I think I'm going to lose it.

Ben hesitantly puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. He squeezes me slightly, adding just enough pressure to calm me. His other hand lays on top of mine, which is still gripping his thigh. He manages to slide his fingers around mine, the warmth from his hand grounding me in the moment. He rubs his thumb along the back of my hand, trying to comfort me. We stay like that through 2 rotations of the wheel before it stops, us at the top.

"Why is it s-stopped?"

"It's to take in the view. But you don't have to."

I nod. "I think I'm doing b-better."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

He chuckles sarcastically. "Ha-ha. But seriously, why did you agree to the ferris wheel if you're not a fan of heights?"

The cart rocks and I squeeze him harder, unable to think clearly. "To be with you."

He stiffens. "To..what?"

The cart sways again and my grip tightens.

"I want to see the sunset."

He rubs his hand up and down my arm. "You don't have to."

"No. I want to."

I take a deep breath and open my eyes, immediately starting to breathe faster as my eyes take in the height.

"Hey, padawan, look at me."

My terror filled eyes find his, soft and warm and comforting, and I find myself relaxing, getting lost in those brown eyes I love so much. His hand comes up to tuck some hair behind my ear and his fingers brush my cheek.

I sigh, the tension leaving my body the longer we stay like that. His eyes flick down to my lips and linger for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again.

I take my hand from his and place it on his chest, gently, hesitantly, gripping his shirt and tugging slightly on it to pull him toward me. He acquiesces, slowly lowering his head to mine, but then he pauses, lips an inch from mine.

"I'm 47."

"I don't care."

I tug him ever so slightly again and a moment later, he pushes his lips to mine, mustache tickling me as he kisses me. It's gentle, restrained, as if he can't believe he's kissing me. He pulls back, dark eyes finding mine, wide and asking if that was ok.

I slide my hand up to his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his patchy stubble before sliding it behind his head, pulling him down to me, deepening the kiss the second our lips meet. I feel his hand come up to cradle the back of my head and he sighs into me, pulling me as close as he can, a slight moan in the back of his throat.

He pulls back, but stays close, eyes meeting mine.

"Are…are you sure? I'm such an old man."

"I really like you, Ben. Like a lot. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

My finger traces a pattern on his cheek and he closes his eyes briefly before finding mine again.

"You could never make me uncomfortable. You're the only person I've ever felt like I could be myself with."

Oh God, his eyes are like a puppies' and I don't know what to do.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Would it be bad of me to make out with you before the first date?"

I mock thinking, finger poking at my chin. "I'll allow it."

"Oh thank God."

His lips pressed to mine and the kiss is more frantic, deeper, more emotion behind it than before. Like he's relaxing and allowing himself this chance at happiness.

I clutch him to me, my leg sliding over his as I try to slide into his lap, forgetting about the lap bar. And the fact we're in public. Ben chuckles, placing his hand hesitantly on my bare thigh.

"Not here, sweet girl. Too many eyes. And I want you all for myself."

-------

Love at the Top Part 2

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