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choiseungcheolprincess · 2 months

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Monster In Me// Choi Seungcheol

NonIdol!College!SeungcheolXBlackFem!Reader

WordCount: 4.9k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

Summary: For the last three years Y/n has been close friends with the 12 men that have come into her life by chance. She's not as close with one of them, and that's Choi Seungcheol. It's not that she hasn't tried, when she did try he'd get all stiff and ignore her. When Y/n finally had enough of him and enough liquor in her system. She decides to confront him about his behavior. She doesn't expect the answer that she's given.

“How the hell am I gonna get through this semester?” I looked at the dramatic scene unfolding in front of me. Hansol just sat there with his eyebrow raised. At the same time, Seungkwan freaked out about whatever things he had to worry about for this semester.

“Kwannie, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. You got this,” I said editing my monthly planner and looking up to meet his glaring gaze.

“Says the girl who’s taking a social worker and psychology course.” leaning back in my chair and stretching my arms out, then sipping my coffee. “I don’t know how you make everything look so simple Y/N,” Hansol said. Honestly, I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. I’m far from being calm about everything. I can’t even look at a syllabus without my eyes going cross-eyed.

“What do you mean I make everything look so simple?” I asked, genuinely confused about what he meant by that. He shrugged and then gestured toward my iPad.

“You just always seem so composed and focused. Like you done figured it all out” I laughed not at him, but at the fact that I seemed like I figured it out, because I do not have it all together.

“Hansol, would you believe me if I told you I do not have it all figured out? Because I don’t, you know who has it together, Xu Minghao and Moon221

“Seungkwan! Hansol! Y/N!” Someone yelled. I saw Chan running over while the others walked behind him. When I first came to Korea I met Hansol, I accidentally ran into him at the airport, and then on campus. Once he opened up, he introduced me to his huge group of friends. They all accepted me. Well, I think they all did. Chan, Hansol, and Seungkawn were my closest friends in the group, and they always made sure to keep me company. They were like brothers to me. They always looked out for me and made sure I felt safe and comfortable. Minghao is quiet, but not in a bad way. I realized that he just lives in the moment. Very observant and brutally honest. Mingyu and Seokmin are like rays of sunshine. Mingyu is a fantastic cook and that’s how he shows his love (I’m not complaining at all) sometimes Mingyu is clingy, but I love him anyway. Seokmin is just the most lovable person I ever met. He’s kind and gentle, the kind of man your parents will want you to bring home. Then you have Jihoon, Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Jun Jihoon is a music producer and doesn’t leave his studio much. Wonwoo, he’s a game streamer and a very popular one at that. He’s a great person, nice, and caring, he also doesn’t talk much. Unless it’s about a game he finished the night before. Jun is a quiet man, but he’s very strange sometimes. Simply put he’s a cat in a human body, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything in this world. Last, but not least are Joshua, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol. Joshua is a gentleman, that you don’t want to get on the wrong side of because he can be very petty at times. Jeonghan is a very cunning, mysterious man. Who just so happens to know everything before any and everyone. Now Seungcheol, that’s a little difficult I’m not as close to him as I am to everyone else. Matter of fact I never actually held a long conversation with him. Every time we near each other he gets stiff and rushes to leave. That kind of makes me think he doesn’t like me. Also raises the question did I do or say something to make him so skittish around me? All I know is that he’s on the University’s basketball team and is the captain of the team, and he’s the most attractive guy I’ve ever laid my eyes on. No, I haven’t ever said that out loud before, At least I don’t think I have said it…Anyway, that’s beside the point. The point is what the hell have I done to the man that he acts like that this?

“Are we still hanging out Friday?” Mingyu asked. Everyone hummed in agreement I just sat there silently. Until Mingyu nudged me.

“Y/n?” I glanced up looking at him before looking at everyone else. Seungcheol and I made eye contact before he glanced away.

“O-oh yeah, I’m free Friday,” I said smiling softly. They all cheered. I glanced back at Seungcheol giving him a soft smile, he gave a shy smile and turned to talk to Joshua. Jeonghan on the other hand was just smirking at me. Confused I ignored it and kept talking to Mingyu and Seokmin about plans for Friday.

For the next few days, I did the same routine. Class, hang out with the guys, and then do my homework, then go to work. Then home to do it all over again, but when Friday comes I meet up with Seungkwan, Hansol, Chan, and his girlfriend Gracie.

“Did I do something to Cheol? I mean every time I try to talk to him, he seems to completely ignore my presence like it’s a real inconvenience or something.” When I asked they all got quiet.

“I don’t think it’s the fact that he doesn’t like you Y/n. Maybe he’s shy?” Seungkwan said placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Three years shy? Kwannie let’s be serious. He just doesn’t like me and I don’t know why. Or want to know why at this point..” I sighed and realized we got to Jihoon’s house and walked in going straight to grab a cup of whatever sinful liquid I could get my hands on.

After an hour I’m sitting in the backyard with Joshua, Wonwoo, Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Seungcheol. We were currently watching Soonyoung and Seungkwan playfully bicker. That was until the four of them left leaving me with Joshua and Seungcheol. Who was surprisingly sitting in the chair next to me? I sat there in silence looking at the clouds and the moon and not paying attention to the conversation the two men were having.

“I’ll be back, I have to go to the bathroom,” Joshua said getting up and jogging back into the house leaving me with Seungcheol. At this point, I had maybe 3 cups of mysterious liquor that Chan had made and handed to me so I was feeling pretty bold. Yes, I know exactly what I’m doing, but my brain and my mouth are not on the same page because the words leave my mouth before I can even realize it.

"Do you dislike me or something?" I asked seriously making his eyes widen. We wouldn't be having this conversation if Joshua didn't leave us out here alone. Drinking. I possibly wouldn't have asked this stupid ass question. You know how in school they say there's no such thing as a stupid question? Well them fuckers lied. Cause I just asked one. Seungcheol just looked at me for a few then at his drink. Lifting the cup to his lips and drinking the whole thing. before standing up grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him chest-to-chest.

"I don't dislike you. It's just hard for me to be near you." He whispered his lips softly brushing against mine. I didn't back away. I was anticipating his next move.

"Ever since you became one of the most important people in my life, I just didn't want to mess anything up. So I stayed away from you. I guess I should've thought it through, but since you wanna know so bad." His hand ran down my side stopping to grab my waist and pulling me closer. His head dipped down to my neck, Nose running over my skin leaving goosebumps on my skin.

"I crave you Y/N, I can't think straight when you're near me. I want to do so many things to you that just a taste won't even satisfy me. So if you don't want that, I have to stay far away from you, because if not, We'll be locked in my room for as long as possible so I can get acquainted with every inch of this beautiful body. I wanna break you and put you back together again, and make sure the only name you remember is mine" He kissed my neck. I sighed, but before I could say anything he walked away, which left me confused.

"What the fuck was that?" I asked myself. Before walking after him. I caught up with him and grabbed his arm. "What was that?" I asked. He didn't respond just smirked. I bit my lip staring up at him.

“Cheol, you can’t just ignore me” He smiled.

“I’m not ignoring you, baby. Just want to give you some time to think about what I said” He leaned down hand on my cheek, then gently placed his lips on mine. Before I could even kiss him back he pulled away.

“When you’re ready..you’ll know where to find me” He whispered then walked away. Leaving me standing there in Jihoon’s driveway shocked. When I walked back into the house everyone looked at me.

“Where’s Cheol?” Joshua asked I simply said that he went home, and nothing else. Not even a summary of what happened. I told Seungkwan I was gonna go home, then bid my ‘see you later to everyone and their partners.

“I’ll come with you,” Crystal, Wonwoo’s girlfriend said looking at the rest of the girls. They all nodded in agreeance. Walking over to me smiling.

“Let’s know when you get there yeah?” Minghao said We hummed our answer grabbed our things and walked out the door. The walk started quiet, my brain on overdrive. Still thinking about the feel of Cheol’s lips on mine. Bonnie and Tara looked at me

“Wanna tell us what’s going on?” Tara asked me. Shaking me out of my head

“Huh?” I said

“You and Cheol were the only two people that were outside. Only you came into the house, through the front door, when you both were in the back. What happened?”, I shook my head. "Nothing," I lied. They exchanged a look but didn't say anything. We continued our walk in silence, my heart still pounding in my chest.

“I asked Seungcheol if there was something that I did for him to dislike me, and the answer I got wasn’t what I expected it to be. When I asked him what that was he told me ‘When you ready, you’ll know where to find me’ What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I said they all stopped and looked at me.

“What?” I asked looking at them.

“We need to get you home so we can all have some wine and talk this out,” Bonnie said.

It’s been a few days since the hang-out at Jihoon’s and the girls spent the entire weekend with me. I told them fully what Seungcheol said to me and they were flabbergasted, just like I was. When I asked them what should I do. They said and I quote: “After three years and the way he made you feel, he can wait a few more days for you” Now I know they are right, but here’s the thing I’ve been dreaming about the man ever since that night. I dream about his lips and hands on my body. Him telling me that I’m a good girl and makes me cum over and over and over again until I can’t take any more. It’s so bad that my fingers aren’t even enough to satisfy me. I haven’t even kissed the guy and my body craves him more than anything else. I was walking to my lecture and bumped into him.

“Y/n are you okay?” He asked steading me his hands on my waist. I nodded biting my lip he looked at my lips and leaned in my ear whispering.

“Stop biting your lip, before I bite it for you baby” I froze on the spot, my heart pounding. I soon pulled away and waved at him walking away. I obviously can’t avoid him since we are in the same friend group. Can I? Shit when did I get so down bad? I took a deep breath and tried to keep my head up. I had to face him eventually. I just kept walking and tried to focus on getting to my lecture.

When my lecture was over I went to the cafe for a cup of coffee before I went the rest of my day, Until Mingyu, Wonwoo, Minghao, Tara, Bonnie, Seungcheol and Crystal walked in.

“Hey, Y/n,” Bonnie said smiling standing next to me I smiled back at her. Feeling Cheol’s eyes on me. Trying to ignore him I strike up a conversation with Bonnie and Tara who just raised her eyebrow at me.

I slightly shook my head and she frowned. Tara is supportive of me just giving into the temptation and just bending over for Cheol to have him fuck me 200 ways from Sunday. We all sat down at a table with our drinks and started talking about Seokmin’s play that was opening at the end of next week.

“And he’s the lead male? I know he’s excited and working hard to make sure he puts on one of the best performances.” I said smiling at everyone, picking the straw up to lick at the whipped cream. I felt Cheols eyes on me the entire time. I tried my hardest not to look at him but glanced in his direction. His eyes are blank and dark with want. His eyes sucked me in and showed me how desperately he wanted me. His eyes scanned me until they landed on my l, making me bite on my lower lip. His eyes narrowed and he pouted. I chuckled at the cuteness.

“Oh, Cheol don’t you have a game this Friday?” Wonwoo asked He looked away from me looking at Wonwoo.

“Yeah, win this one, and off to the championships,” He said. I looked back a Bonnie and Tara who just looked at me.

“I uhh, I need to go study. I have an exam tomorrow and unfortunately, Professor Park is a major ass” I said getting up leaving the cafe, and walking home. Once I was a few blocks away I heard someone call my name turning to Seungcheol. I stopped waiting for him.

“You are such a fucking tease baby girl,” He said to me once I was within earshot I smirked, but didn’t say anything back. Just continued to walk. He followed me, and not a word was spoken. That was until we got to my place. Once inside with the door closed it was like a switch flipped on because he grabbed my arm and pushed me up against the wall. His lips were on mine and his hands were everywhere. He was rough and forceful, and I welcomed it. I felt my body come alive as I felt myself getting lost in the moment. He grabbed my neck, his thumb stroking one side. He pulled away looking down at me.

“Fuck baby, you're killing me,” He said. I looked at him through my eyelashes, biting my lip again he groaned, his finger pulling my lip from my teeth leaning down and biting it making me gasp.

“You even make the most pretty noises, fuck pretty,” He said He pulled me closer, his lips crashing against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth. I moaned into his mouth, his hand traveling down my body, unbuttoning my jeans, he put his hand in my pants.

“Take them off,” I said against his lips. He smiled. He slowly unzipped my jeans and pulled them off, leaving me in just my panties and a shirt. Kissing me again, his lips left mine and trailed down my neck, his hands cupping my breasts. He groaned in pleasure as I moaned in response. Still moving down my body, I glanced down seeing him on his knees, I spread my legs as he started to kiss up my thighs.

“Cheol” I moaned.

“I meant what I said about wanting to break you and put you back together, make you forget about everything else and remember my name only.” He said before sliding his tongue over my clit. I gasped my hand reaching down and pulling his hair making him groan. His tongue circled my clit as my body trembled in pleasure. Cheol continued to work his magic with his tongue, expertly teasing and pleasuring me. Every flick, every swirl of his tongue sent waves of pleasure through my body, making me moan and squirm against the wall. It was as if he knew exactly how to drive me wild, and I couldn't help but surrender to the overwhelming ecstasy he was giving me. I was close. So. Fucking. Close. That was until he pulled away. Making me whine.

“Cheol I was so close..” I whined he spanked the inside of my thigh making me gasp at the sudden action. He smirked and whispered in my ear “Not yet baby. I’m not done yet.” He stepped back and left me trembling against the wall, wanting more. I couldn’t move. The wall was the only thing keeping me up. Standing in front of me looking me up and down I spread my legs, My fingers sliding down as I held eye contact with him

Cheol's eyes darkened with desire as he watched me, his breath becoming more ragged. The anticipation in the air was electric, and I could tell he was struggling to maintain control. I continued to tease him, slowly running my fingers along my inner thighs, feeling the heat and wetness building between my legs. Sinking my fingers into my cunt, I moaned he just watched. His breathing picked up as he balled his hands into a fist.

“Fuck, Cheol don’t you wanna fuck me? Can’t tell you how many times I thought of you fucking me on every surface of this place.” I said fucking myself with my fingers. He took a small step towards me. “Always wanted to know how your heavy cock will feel in my mouth” I whimpered. That was enough to get him to grab my wrist and take my hand out from between my legs, up to his mouth sucking the arousal from my fingers and pulling me towards him in the process.

“Who told you, you can touch my pussy baby girl?” He said, sucking my fingers. Muttering how good I taste. When he was done he dropped my hand grabbed my thighs picked me up and kissed me. I moaned into his mouth, feeling my pussy getting wetter. He carried me to the bed and laid me down, then leaned down and kissed me again. He pulled away and looked at me, his expression intense.

“Your pussy? If it’s yours why haven’t you filled it up hmm? Why have I had to fill it with my fingers instead?” I said kissing down his neck

Cheol's eyes burned with desire as he devoured my words, his grip tightening around my thighs. With a wicked smile, he whispered, "You want me to fill you up, baby? Well, tonight, I'm going to make you beg for it. And when I finally do, you won't be able to handle the pleasure." His words sent a shiver down my spine, fueling my desperation. We got to my room and he dropped me onto the bed. Sitting he reached for my shirt took it off then reached for my bra unsnapping it. He sucked in a breath, putting my feet on the bed and spreading them while playing with my nipples. My eyes darted down to the bulge in his pants. I made my way off the bed kneeling in front of him and unbuckling his pants. His dick sprung out I slowly took him in my mouth, savoring the sensation as he moaned in pleasure. His grip tightened on my hair as he felt my expert touch. I continued to work my way up and down his shaft, feeling him grow harder with each movement. He sighed, touching my hair when I finally took him into my mouth. I continued to work my way up and down his shaft, feeling him grow harder with each movement. The taste of him filled my mouth as I savored his pleasure, my tongue swirling around him.

“Fuck Y/n” His grip tightened on my hair, guiding me deeper, and I eagerly obliged, taking him in as far as I could. The sound of his moans of pleasure spurred me on, my desire growing with each passing second. I couldn’t help but slide my hand between my legs and rub my clit making me moan against him. He pulled me off of him.

“Aht, aht, I didn’t say you can touch that pretty pussy did I?” He said I shook my head,

“Words baby,” He said.

“No, you didn’t say I can touch myself,” I said moving my hand onto his thigh he smiled. Guiding my head back to his cock. I opened my mouth and took him in, my lips and tongue exploring every inch of him. His moans of pleasure echoed in my ears as I worked my way up and down. His grip tightened on my head, I looked up at him, Cheol's eyes darkened with lust as he pulled me closer, his hand still tangled in my hair. "Open wide," he commanded, and I obediently complied, parting my lips and allowing him to slide his length back into my mouth. He began to thrust, his pace steady but insistent, each movement pushing him deeper into my throat. Tears welled up in my eyes as I gagged slightly, but the sensation only seemed to heighten his pleasure.

“Fuck, so pretty like this baby, ” He said as my nose hit his lower stomach, I gagged again, drooling. He pulled out of my mouth and thrusted back in hitting the back of my throat. Breathing through my nose he looked down at me mouth dropping open.

“Shit, can I cum down your throat baby?” He asked I made a noise, saying yes. He moaned at the vibrations coming from me He smirked as he watched me choke and gag, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense. I could feel myself getting wetter with each movement, my breathing ragged and my body trembling. Finally, with one last thrust, he came. I swallowed as much as I could before he pulled out. Licking the rest from his tip making him shiver in pleasure.

“Such a good girl…” He said bending down and kissing me. I moaned “Good…fucking…girl” He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “Now, it's my turn.” He picked me up and took me to the bed, I spread my legs he looked at me like a predator ready to eat its prey. Cheol's eyes darkened with hunger as he knelt between my legs. He leaned in, his breath hot against my sensitive skin, and placed a gentle kiss on my inner thigh, making me shiver. Slowly, he traced a path of kisses closer to my core, teasing me with each soft touch. Finally, his tongue flicked out to taste me, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he delved deeper, his tongue exploring every inch of me with deliberate, skillful strokes. Moans escaped my lips, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned out. His fingers joined the fray, sliding into me with ease, curling just right to hit that perfect spot inside. The combination of his tongue and fingers sent waves of ecstasy crashing over me, my body arching off the bed. Cheol's pace quickened, his free hand gripping my thigh to keep me still as he devoured me with unrestrained hunger, my moans filling the room as I teetered on the edge of release.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck!” I screamed toes curling, he didn’t let up, and our eyes made contact, as he put his lips on my clit and sucked making me give into the pleasure. I was lost in a whirl of pleasure, my body trembling as I reached the heights of pleasure. Cheol's lips and fingers continued their assault on my body, pushing me closer and closer to the ultimate release. Finally, my body exploded in pleasure, my orgasm washing over me in waves. Working me through my orgasm, My thighs closed around him, but his hand spread them. He pulled away his thumb on my clit fingers still hitting my g-spot.

“Give me another baby,” He said kissing my thigh, then placing his tongue on my clit. Cheol didn't relent; his relentless fingers and expert tongue continued their assault, driving me to the brink of madness. The intensity of his touch sent shockwaves through my already sensitive body, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I could feel another orgasm building, even stronger than the first, as he pushed me beyond my limits, making me cry out in a mix of pleasure and desperation.

“Please Cheol!” I moaned, He didn’t move,

Tears of overwhelming pleasure streamed down my face as Cheol's relentless assault on my body continued. His fingers curled inside me with perfect precision, while his tongue flicked my clit with agonizing skill. "Please, Cheol! I can't... it's too much," I whimpered, my body trembling violently. He looked up at me with a glint of determination in his eyes, his free hand stroking my thigh soothingly.

"You can do it, baby. Just one more for me okay?” I felt that familiar tightness in my core again my back arched as I had another earth-shattering orgasm

“Seungcheol!” I screamed out gasping. Working me through it. When I was finished he pulled away kissing up my body.

“Good fucking girl” he kept repeating he got to my face and kissed me. Sliding his tip between my lips hitting my clit.

“Please fuck me…” I whimpered out grinding against him. He hummed kissing my neck and making sure he left his marks on me

“I wanna mark you until there’s no space left on your body..” He whispered his voice rough, I couldn’t help, but grind against him again making him slide in me. Just the tip, he looked down.

“So needy aren’t you baby?” he said, I couldn’t say anything, just tried to pull him into me, He stopped me.

“No baby, beg. Beg me to fuck your pretty pussy” He said slipping out of me and spanking my clit with his cock. I whined.

“Please Seungcheol, please fuck me..”

“You could do better than that princess can’t you?” He said teasingly, Pushing into me slightly, and pulling out again.

“Seungcheol, f-fuck.. Please fuck my pretty tight pussy, I wanna cum around you, Fuck don’t you wanna cum in me, please fill me baby” I begged. He smiled thrusting into me and filling me up. He groaned out, not giving me a chance to get used to him. He started slow and deep, taking my legs in his hands and kissing my ankle.

“Cheol, don’t hold back” I moaned out he raised his eyebrow, and I nodded

“Fuck me…fuck me,” I said repeatedly each time I said it he sped up, Dropping my legs down. My hands on his arms nails digging into his arms. He groaned at the pain leaning down to kiss me. I bit his lip and he moaned.

“Fuuck, princess,” He said against my lips. He grabbed my hips and told me to wrap my arms around him. Listening to his words he flipped us over. His back on the headboard me on top of him, He didn’t have to tell me what to do I leaned back got on my feet, and started bouncing on his cock, He met every bounce with a thrust. Moaning his name like a mantra he wrapped his hand around my neck cutting off the blood flow, making me even wetter. I couldn’t even think about anything, but him. His other hand spanking each thigh then playing with my clit.

He has me seeing stars. My core once again tightened, my walls squeezing him making him whimper.

“Ahh shit, you gonna cum on me baby?” He said the circles on my clit getting faster, My eyes on his vision blurred. I nodded.

“Cum for me, be a good little princess, and cum for me.” He said, My body shook and my eyes closed tears falling from the pleasure. My body tensed and I let go. Which triggered Cheol’s orgasm. His thrust picked up, breath hitched, he let out a grunt then gasped.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good baby…So fuck beautiful” He grunted out. I collapsed on him still writhing. His arms wrapped around me hands running up and down my back.

“You were so good, baby..” He said whispering sweet nothings in my ear. When I caught my breath I looked at him he smiled kissing me. Then said.

“Baby, I’m not even close to being done with you.” I laughed.

“Give me a few” Kissing him again resting my head on his shoulder. He kept his promise that night, he broke me and put me back together multiple times that nigh

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #kpop smut #s.coups x reader #scoups smut #seventeen scoups #seventeen #black!reader #kpop #kpop scenarios #S.coupsxblack!reader

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6ix9inewiturmom · 6 months

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Crying on your birthday

Summary: You’ve been best friends with the triplets since you were born and your boyfriend of 2 years broke up with you on your birthday and chris confesses his love to you in an interesting way;)

Warnings: Smut!! P in V, Dom!Chris, Sub!reader, choking, hair pulling, use of Y/N, unprotected sex (wrap ur snickers), Oral (fem reviving), fingering, cursing, alcohol consumption, cream pie, cursing, lowkey possessive chris?, (lemme know if i forget anything)

A/N: not requested but i had this idea cookin in my head for a WHILE!! this is a long one so be prepared!!

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i’ve known the triplets since i was born. our moms were best friends since they were 9, Marylou and My mom went to college together and even had me at the same time Marylou was pregnant with the boys. i’ve thought nothing more then the triplets as my brothers, but chris… Christopher owen.. that boy has his ways with me about ever since we hit puberty together and learned we didn’t have the same body parts, now we never showed each other we liked each other so i never knew he liked me back. marylou always told me she’d seen me with either matt or chris. once matt started dating i KNEW i was never his type.. not in the slightest. nick and i were always just besties, once he came out it made more sense why he never attempted to “flirt” with me, so we were strictly just best friends or siblings. but chris? oh no he was a huge player, he treated me like a sibling but there was something about the way he “joked” with me i knew it was something more, but none of us ever talked about it so i ignored it, and just assumed that’s his way of joking. i’ve been dating my boyfriend, Cooper, for 2 years now, things were amazing, the triplets and their parents, were super supportive of me and him considering how we were raised as siblings. my mom liked him but i knew she never loved him.

today was my 21st birthday, i was actually about to have my ‘first drink’. at least to my parents knowledge. the boys and i would always sneak alcohol behind mine and their parents back all the time from the ages of 15-19, that was till they got themselves a house in boston, and i got an apartment close by in boston as well.

i spent about an hour and a half getting ready. i wore a black tight dress with little pink bows connecting to my middle breast, pushing my breast up and against each other making them look nice. with the dress i put on some thigh high leather boots with a slight heel on them.

cooper had finally texted me saying he was at my apartment to drive us to my venue i had booked for about 300 people. i knew my 21st had to be huge. i walk

down my stairs of the building leading to coopers car, but as i’m walking to him i’m expecting his usual flirty compliments such as, ‘hey sexy u come here often’, ‘can’t wait to rip that off you tonight’, ‘gimme a twirl lemme see that ass’, but strangely, it’s like i was a ghost to him, i ignore it thinking he just had a bad day at work or something.

“Hey coop! you ready” i say getting in the car closing the door smiling.

“hm? oh yeah i’m ready” he shoots me a fake smile before flipping his phone over face down and under his thigh slowly backing out to drive to the venue.

he’s never done that before? why did he hide his phone like that? why under his leg? i wonder so many things in my head but im not gonna let it get in the way of my birthday.. not happening, been waiting on this day for YEARS, today was about me!

the drive was silent and lifeless, never in the 2 years we’ve been together had our drives ever been less then filled with laughter and jokes, or blasting music and singing along to our shared playlist together. i plug my phone up to the aux cord and start playing our shared playlist thinking maybe i could lighten the mood but that doesn’t work. hes distant and it’s irking me, but again i brush it off cause its my birthday of all days.

i text chris a simple text telling him i was close to the venue hoping he’d be there and not take his princess ass his sweet time. as we pulled up to the venue i’m all smiles and giggles and as im walking towards cooper to hold his hand as im walking into the place he drops my hand, ive officially had enough of this i stop in my tracks.

“nu uh what the fuck is ur issue, first u hide ur phone, next ur completely silent, and now u drop my hand?” i slightly yell trying not to cause a ruckus infront of the venue

“just not feeling the party mood Y/N” he says almost uninterested in my feelings

“cooper marshall?? not in a party mood?? i don’t believe it.. not for a second, u literally have ‘party monster’ tatted on your thigh.. you NEVER turn down a pary, specially for your GIRLFRIEND of 2 YEARS, might i mention” i yell pretty sternly at this point not caring who hears

“yeah Y/N i’m not in a party mood, it’s not that hard to believe.. plus ur too clingy sometimes expecally when you can’t take a hint when someone’s upset you’re still fucking attached to me at the hip, i’m not always feeling you” again uninterested in how i feel

“Cooper what the fuck? i’m too ‘clingy’ where is this coming from?” using air quotes to emphasize my words.

cooper rolls his eyes “Y/N you’re causing a scene at your party you so desperately wanted to have, let’s just go” he attempts to grab my hand to drag me inside.

i drop his hand “no, your not just gonna ignore whatever issue you have with me, ESPECIALLY on my fucking birthday cooper”

again he rolls his eyes “i’m not doing this Y/N”

my eyes widen “doing what exactly? the party? me? what?”

he sighs before running his fingers through his hair “everything Y/N.. just leave me alone, don’t text me, don’t call me, just don’t worry about me and have fun at your pitty party”

my jaw dropped, if my jaw could break, my jaw would be in hell for how low my jaw hung. “your seriously breaking up with me?”

he presses his lips together and nods “yeah i guess i am i would say im sorry but im not.. bye sav-“ he stops abruptly before trying to fix his mistake of calling me the wrong name “bye Y/N”

tears start forming in my eyes “you were cheating on me? now ur breaking up with me on my fucking birthday? i truly thought better of you..”

he turns around “it’s not like you probably aren’t fucking chris behind my back anyway, it’s only fair” he shrugs

tears streaming down my face trying to comprehend what he just said.

“fuck off cooper” i storm inside the venue and as i walk in im greeted by the three same face people i grew up with.

“i uh- we uh-“ matt starts

“yeah we- you see” chris try’s to save matt

“oh my god you guys are fucking idiots.. Y/N we saw the whole thing.. what they’re trying to say is we’re sorry” nick finishes his brothers sentences and brings me into a tight bear hug.

i sniffle into nick as matt and chris both hug me, i pull away softly.

“i-it’s okay.. let’s just party, there’s 300 people here for me, i’m 21, finally we’re all 21 together, let’s just party and get drunk” i say promoting a half assed smile

“love ur attitude Y/N but let’s actually have a good time! also you look wayy too hot to be crying on your fucking birthday” nick says with his positive energy he always promotes

“you do look good sassy” chris says with his infamous smirk.

‘Sassy’ a nickname chris gave me when we were 8 and i was starting to get into my personality being sassy and not taking bull shit from anyone.

“thank you bubbles” i say with a smile. bubbles was a nickname i gave to him when we were 5 cause he was the bubbliest boy of the three.

about an hour went by, i lost count of how many drinks i consumed that night, on average id say about 8-10, i was the drunkest here, my words were slurring, i was full on shakin ass on the air, and my vision was blurred.

“oh chrisssy pooh” i slurred as chris came up behind me helping me walk around.

he chuckles “hey sassy, you’re a little

too drunk”

“whattt” i act shocked in my drunken state “nu uh, am not”

maybe these were my drunken thoughts but his smile could lighten up hell, the way his cheeks puffed up as he smiled, the way his blue eyes sparkle.

“mhm sure, why don’t we get you in the van and take you home and call it quits hm?” nick follows chris and holds my arms up to try and attempt to hold me i lean towards chris almost falling down as he caught me like one of those corny romantic movies.

i glaze into his eyes “you’re so pretty Christopher”

he laughs and picks me up and carrys me bridal style “oh yeah you’re done for love”

i nuzzle into his neck as nick, matt, chris and i walk to the van smiling like a kid in the candy store.

i randomly start busting out into drunken laughter as chris attempts to buckle me in “you wanna know something funny? cooper told me that i was fucking chris behind his back? pft he’s like my brother”

chris laughs and closes the door on the passenger back seat as nick takes the front passenger side and runs to the driver back seat to sit next to me.

“CHRISSY” i say a little louder

“i’m here sassy” he places my head on his lap and starts playing with my hair like he used to when we were kids.

i look up at him as his blue eyes glisten against the moonlight shining into the car window as matt drives to the triplets house “your so sweet to me.. can you braid my hair”

he looks down at me and smiles “yes i can” he takes my head and turns it to the side and starts french braiding my hair like i taught him years ago.

i softly hum before drifting off to sleep until i was woken up to chris carrying me to his bedroom and i groan as he sits me down on his bed “mm chris-“ before i could even warn him im running to the bathroom and puking up every ounce of alcohol in me.

“Y/N??” he says barging in the bathroom immediately holding my hair back to help me and rubbing my back softly saying ‘it’s okay sassy’ ‘i’m here’

i finally stop puking and am just leaning my back onto chris’ chest as he runs his fingers in my hair “you feelin any better”

i softly smile “i’m pretty much sobered up now”

“you ready to get into bed? you can wear some of my clothes and stuff since you weren’t prepared for anything tonight given the circumstances of your recent breakup- oh my god im sorry i shouldn’t have mentioned that im so-“

i cut him off “chris it’s fine, i promise, if anything im already over it… i know i shouldn’t be but i pretty much am” i smile turning my body to face him now

he returns the smile at me “good, let’s get you up and changed” he helps me up off the cold bathroom tiled floor as he guides me to his bedroom and lays out a pair of ‘Fresh Love’ sweatpants and one of his ‘Lyrical Lemonade’ T-shirts for me.

“here you go sass, i’ll be outside the door just let me in when your changed, you can throw your clothes in that hamper over there and i’ll wash em in the morning” he states before attempting to walk out of the door

“Wait chris” i stop “please don’t leave, it ain’t like we used to bathe together” i continue adding a small smile to my face

“okay.. but i’m turning around” he chuckled using his pointed finger to point at me

i smile at him “okay okay..” he turns around and i take my shoes off putting them to the side carefully and taking my dress off leaving me in my bra and underwear which was a matching orange set with little to no coverage on either my breast or ass, i was gonna suprise cooper with tonight but since coopers no longer in the picture it’s just another set in my collection. i throw on chris’ clothes which were a little too big on me but alas they were comfy.

“okay goober you can turn around now” i laugh and he slowly turns around and walks his way to me grabbing my hand and spinning me around like some disney moving looking at me up and down.

“my my my, i thought you looked beautiful in that dress but my clothes looks 10x better on you” he chuckles

i’m a giggling mess “oh stop it chris, you’re just fuckin with me”

he shoots me a smirk “eh maybe i am, maybe im not..” his voice trails off almost nervously

chris? nervous? never, i’ve warned his clothes thousands of times and never once has he showered me with affection the most id normally get is ‘i better see that hoodie back in my closet’ jokingly of course.

but alas a blush creeps on my cheeks giving away i liked his compliment, i can’t deny ive always had a thing for chris, i USED to only look at him as my ‘brother who’s not actually my brother but is my brother’ but that was before i knew what boys actually were. chris and i had/have never hooked up before, granted we were each others first kiss because we entered middle school together and Marylou gave them a talk about girls that somehow interested chris and he wanted to ‘get some practice’ as he says. but we were 11, we never kissed again cause we thought it was awkward, that was until i had my first date and didn’t know how to make out, chris, the player of course, was the one i ran to to teach me. cooper knew how close we all were, i told him i’ve only ever kissed chris twice but it meant nothing, it’s not like we hooked up before.

“ma?” chris attempted to get my attention but i was LOST in my thoughts about wanting to kiss chris’ soft lips again… was it wrong to want that?

“hm? oh yeah sorry i was uh just thinking” i laughed my nervousness away

“about what?” he said walking over to his bed, i followed sitting next to him

“nosey.. but mostly just us as kids.. i still think it’s funny cooper thought we hooked up, but it brought me to the memories when we were 11 and had our first kiss” i giggled softly

“OH I REMEMBER THAT ONE” he exclaimed “we were in my bedroom at the old house and” before his attempt at telling the rest of the story i joined in

“we didn’t talk for 3 days because we thought it was weird” we said in unison

we both laugh but slowly we just start looking at each other in a not so friendly way.. more of a romantic way, now i know i just broke up with my boyfriend of 2 years and the last thing i should be doing is looking at chris wanting his nice plump limps on mine.

before i knew it chris’ lips were attached to mine but i didn’t hesitate once, i immediately kissed him back but what was weird is that he pulled away… i thought i would have pulled away.

“i-im sorry i shouldn’t have done that” chris attempts to apologize

“no you should have… i know im recently single but… i want you to kiss me again…” i attempt to make him feel better the thought of his lips on mine and everywhere else on my body just came flooding down and creating a sense of heat in between my legs

chris leans in using his hand to caress my cheek before pressing his lips on mine this time in a more passionate manner, but with a hint of sexual desire in his lips, he wanted this just as much as i did, maybe more.

i softly moan into his lips as his hand travels down to my hips and up and down my upper thigh before slowly pulling away

“is this okay…?” he looks nervously down at his hand on my thigh

i nodded but that wasn’t enough for chris

“i need to hear you say it ma, tell me if i can do this” he looks at me deeply in my eyes.

“yes chris, this is perfect” i smile

“god i’ve been waiting for this my entire life” he kisses me again while using his hand to move into the waistband of his sweatpants i had on and taking off the pants laying me down on my back and pulling away from the kiss to admire the orange set of underwear i had on.

“such a whore for wearing such slutty underwear like this like you’re asking to be fucked…” he growled placing himself in between my legs and pulling my underwear to the side and admiring the glistening from my wetness coated on my pussy almost drooling and using his finger to collect my wetness on his finger.

“fuck you’re dripping…” his finger was drenched in my arousal he took his finger in his mouth to have a taste and his eyes lit up with desire and hunger for me “cooper would be shitting himself… i bet you’ve never been this wet for him eh? only for me?” he states cockily

“mhm” i smiled and nodded before adjusting myself to take off his shirt i had on showing him the rest of the matching set i had on, both being in his favorite color and little to no coverage for my hard nipples.

that’s all it took and his mouth was attached to my clit placing open mouth kisses on it eating me like his life depends on it, eating me like a gun was placed to his head for his last meal.

a loud moan escaped through my lips as my jaw when open “chris!” i yelped “fuck you’re too damn good at- at this” i state with a shakey breath.

he moaned against my pussy sending a vibration through my body feeling his smirk against me, he lifts up to speak “i bet ur sorry excuse for an ex couldn’t treat this pussy like it deserves” he smirks

“shut up christopher and use that mouth for good use” he didn’t look to happy

“i didn’t say you could speak back to me” he lightly slaps my clit, causing my hips

to jerk forward and a soft whimper let out my lips.

“oh? you like that?” he slaps it again and another whimper softly comes out me

he dips his head down in my legs again adding a finger and curling upwards to hit my spot just right and my toes began to curl and my back arching off the bed and moans leaking from my mouth, he adds another finger curling both upwards with ease.

“oh- oh chris!” i hum softly “d-don’t s-stop please s-s-so close” my legs tremble lightly

“don’t plan on it ma” he muttered against me occasionally looking up at me supporting myself with my elbows dug into the mattress, head thrown back, with my nails twisting the sheets between my fingertips

“fuck chris i’m ab to cum” i moan out

“do it, be a good girl and cum all over my fingers” he spits moving his body upward to watch me come undone on his fingers his eyes piercing in me keeping his fingers curling up at a constant speed

“mpft- FUCK” i cursed a constant string of ‘fucks’ and ‘chris’ as my legs tremble even more and i came absolutely all over his fingers as he slowly pulls them out with a huge grin and licking my cum up on his fingers

“mmm fuck you taste amazing.. i’ve waited a long time to taste you and i’d have to say it’s the best thing that’s touched my tongue” he grins

i roll my eyes playfully trying to come down from my high “now let me suck tour dick or you fuck me into tomorrow, ur choice” i smirk

he hums softly “now i’d love to watch you suck me off but tonight is all about you sassy, so we’ll save your mouth for another night” he shoots me a wink

“there’s gonna be another night?” i ask smiling and cocking my head to the side.

“i hope you didn’t think this was a one time thing.. im gonna need your pussy in my mouth every night” he smiles pulling his pants down and his boxers down in one swift motion and taking his shirt off leaving him bare… my jaw dropped, his dick is huge… thick and LONG… the sweatpants don’t do him any justice.

he obviously catches me staring “you like what your looking at sass?”

i nod HARD… it’s so much bigger then coopers…

“good” he smirks leaning over me and pressing a passionate kiss on my lips before lining his dick up with my entrance and sliding in with ease inch by inch, i pull away moaning as he bottoms out and starts thrusting his hips at a steady pace to begin with

“oh my god, you’re so fucking tight.. and wet… fuckk” he leans his head back beginning to thrust into me a little faster

“mpfh- h-harder chris” i moan out

his hips immediately went harder hitting my spot every time again. he grabs my neck softly choking me as i’m a bigger moaning mess then i was on his fingers.

“i bet cooper could never fuck you like this… he wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like yours” chris whispers almost growling in my ear while pounding into me causing the bed to repeatedly hit the wall

“oh chris” i groan out arching my back

“i can fuck you better then that sorry peice of shit… mmm” he groans in my ear

a loud pornographic moan escapes my lips as his tip kisses my cervix over and over again leaving my legs shaking violently beneath him.

he flips me over so my back is arched and my ass is in the air, he begins thrusting in me at a domestic pace as if he can’t control himself with me anymore he’s groaning to the point it’s almost a whimper as my ass repeatedly clapping on his pelvic bone.

“Fuckkk chris… i can feel you in my fucking throat… you’re so deep” i moan out

Smack

he lets a HARD smack on my ass before grabbing a wad of my hair and lifting me up to whisper in my ear

“you’re such a dirty whore” he says nibbling at my neck leaving dark circles on my neck “you’re mine now… no one else’s” he grunts “mine to mark” thrust “mine to fuck” thrust “mine to destroy” he lets go of my hair and pressing my head into the mattress “mine” thrust “mine” thrust “mine” my moans turns into whimpering as i become overstimulated

“c-close” i choke out, i could barely form a coherent sentence.

“mmf- me too ma… just keep taking me like a good girl you are” he groans throwing his head back, maintaining his constant hard and rough thrusts.

my legs now fully numb and shaking violently, “c-cumming” i whimper out as im releasing all over his dick leaving a white ring of cum on the base of his dick.

his thrust became sloppy as he paints my walls with his ropes of cum and slowly pulls out trying not to hurt me he rubs my lower back as i turn over and lay on my back.

“hang on ma, lemme go get a towel to clean you up” he exists the room and i hear nick from downstairs cheering

“YESSSS FINALLY YALL HOOKED UP!!! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! but next time be quiet or wait till we’re not here yall freaks!” nick yells causing a smile to appear on my lips as chris walks in with a warm rag to start carefully wiping my legs and carefully rubbing my pussy off trying not to hurt me.

“happy birthday sassy” he smiles at me as we’re now laying down next to each other bare, skin to skin.

“thank you bubbles” i smile over at him.

“where does this leave us Y/N?” his smile drops into a nervous expression

“let’s just cuddle and we’ll talk about in the morning okay? i’m too tired” i smile at him reassuringly

he kisses my forehead bringing me closer to his chest “thank you” he whispered

“mhm” i mumbled falling fast asleep with the real man of my heart next to me.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS ONE??? it’s a long one but i had fun writing it! ALSO ILY GUYS!!! lemme know how yall enjoyed this one!!

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets

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blueywrites · 1 year

Text

I Will Wait

a soulmate!fakemarriage!au with rockstar!eddie and personalassistant!reader (also featuring ronance)

cowritten by @abibliophobiaa, @blue-mossbird, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, and @fracturedarkness

18+ only for mature themes and eventual sexual content. fem!reader, alcohol consumption

three (15.3k) | next | masterlist | AO3 | 🎵 shmackin' tunes

in this universe, there is no upside down, the year is 1995, and corroded coffin = nine inch nails. enjoy! 🐝

The next few months are an absolute whirlwind. Corroded Coffin was in the last legs of producing their new album when you were hired, meaning the period of time when they were gearing up for the debut was just getting started. Photoshoots, interviews, preparing press releases, scheduling future appearances, and a million other things all seemed to be happening at once.

In addition to being the middleman between Eddie and the powers that be, which mostly consisted of Steve sending you constant emails of new appointments, you also were quick to learn some of the other expectations that comes along with being a PA for a celebrity. Mainly: house work.

At first you had thought they were fucking with you when Eddie mentioned that he needed you to come to his brownstone in the morning to do his laundry. As it turns out, he was both completely serious and incredibly amused with your ignorance of all the things you had technically signed up to do for him by taking this position. So you found yourself letting yourself into the Munson brownstone in Greenwich Village a few times a week to do menial tasks for your client.

Today, you’d walked in around 10am, much to Eddie’s displeasure, and were greeted with a bag full of laundry thrown at your feet. “Good morning to you too, Eddie,” you offer, albeit a bit dryly as you place your pocketbook on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Did the maid I hired not get around to laundry this week?”

“Fired her.” Eddie sounds way too chipper for this time of day, and you can only guess it’s because of his smug smile as he forces you into doing things you’ve tried to work around. “Kept looking at my underwear weird; thought she was gonna sell it or something.”

Not believing it for a second, you still give him a tight smile. “I’m sure. I’ll work on finding another maid to clean the brownstone. Again.”

“You do that!” He calls over his shoulder as he walks further into the bright and airy kitchen. In his black sweatpants and bleach-stained tank top, he looks completely at odds with his own home. It sometimes makes you wonder if his wife, Robin, picked everything out or if they had just gotten a designer to come in and make it like a show home. The first floor is beautifully decorated but stale, like no one actually lives there. It gets a bit more personal as you ascend but it still seems strange to have a home feel so disconnected. “Oh—” he looks back over as you lift the bag of laundry into your arms with a huff, “I have a pair of silk boxers in there that need to be hand washed, so don’t even think about putting them in the machine. And, uh… don’t worry about the stains.”

Oh, how you wish you could smack the cheeky grin off his face sometimes. You mumble an acknowledgement as you carry the bag through the first floor and past the kitchen, passing through an open door frame that leads into the laundry/mud room. Sorting lights and darks, despite the very intense lack of white articles that need to be cleaned, you start shoving black fabric after black fabric into the top load washing machine. When the tips of your fingers brush silk, your teeth clench tight together as you clutch it in your fist and throw it towards the deep sink a few feet away.

Once the machine is started, you walk back over to where the bundle of black silk now rests at the bottom of the plastic basin. Upon first examination, there are no suspicious ‘stains’ to be seen, but you still don’t trust it. Pinching one of the hems between your fingernails, you lift it up to eye level to inspect further, wanting to know exactly what you’re getting into before you get started.

The french door behind you pulls open with a stream of sunlight and a brush of floral perfumed air. Still holding the offending garment between your fingertips, you spin toward where Robin has just entered the mud room, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose and a book in her hand. “Uh…” Her hand slowly drops from the door handle, a smile stretching across her face as her eyebrows raise. “Whatcha doin’?”

Embarrassment wells up to warm your face, which you assume was Eddie’s goal all along, while you give Robin a tense smile. “Eddie fired the maid again. Said his silk underwear needed to be ‘hand-washed’.”

Robin’s sigh is one of long-suffering acceptance as she crosses over to you, grabs the boxers, and throws them into the running washing machine. “He’s fucking with you; you know how he is.” The sunglasses are pushed up into her hair so she can fix you with her blue-eyed stare. “You can just… push back a little. Don’t let him walk all over you.”

“It’s my job to—”

“Your job is not to just do whatever the fuck he tells you to do. Like, hiring the maid was a good move. He probably would’ve had you over here everyday dusting his little trophies if you hadn’t outsmarted him.” Her smile is warm, almost like she’s proud. “Your job is to make sure he can do his job. That’s all.”

Since meeting Robin 3 months ago, she has been nothing but sweet and kind to you. Despite being your client’s wife, she very often put herself in your corner, facing off against some of Eddie’s more unreasonable requests. While you don’t necessarily need her intervention, it still is nice to have sometimes. Her reassurance has your tension easing, a deep breath expanding your lungs in slight relief. “Thank you, Robin.”

“No prob,” she taps the cover of her paperback against your bicep as she moves past you and out into the kitchen. “Eddie!”

You follow her through the entry just in time to see Eddie spinning toward her shout, an open gallon of milk in his hand and a white stain on his upper lip. “Hey Rob, what’s the move?”

“God, Munson, you’re so fucking gross.” She pushes his shoulder out of her way to reach into the fridge and pull out a decanter of orange juice. “Remind me to never drink the milk in this house again.”

He sets the jug on the kitchen island and leans on his elbow to keep himself in her sideview, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “And you married me anyway.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groans, although it betrays a certain level of amusement with her husband as she places her palm on his forehead and pushes him away again. Watching the easy interaction of their back and forth, always acting more like best friends than a more formal married couple, has a pang twisting in your chest. You can only hope for such an easy and comfortable relationship with your soulmate one day.

Two days later, you’re once again standing in the Munson brownstone in the early hours of the morning. Or, Eddie’s version of early, which happens to be anytime before noon. You hadn’t had time to find another cleaning service yet so you were elbows deep in the sink in their kitchen, bright yellow silicon gloves protecting your hands from the hot, soapy water as you washed bowls and coffee cups.

Eddie appears at the bottom of the stairs, yawning loudly as he stretches his arms skyward, shirt lifting to show a peek at the ink beneath. You pay him no mind as you continue your methodical cleaning of ceramics, keeping your eyes down even when he walks right up beside you and leans on the counter. Fully content to ignore him until your task is done, you can’t help but startle away when his fingertips ghost against your temple, pushing the hair back.

“What are you doing?” You finally glance over at him, your voice pitching up a bit in surprise. His smile is mischievous, eyes shining in the light, leaning over further to rest his chin on his fist.

“Oh, I was just fixing it for you. Your hands are wet and soapy.”

Exhaling through your nose, you go back to focusing on scrubbing the burnt eggs from the bottom of a frying pan. Over the last month or so, Eddie has gone from barely tolerating your existence and trying to make your life miserable, to being very pleased with your existence so he can continue to push the envelope on making your life miserable. It has become more and more like a game for him – testing the boundaries on what you will tolerate. Both what you will do for him and how much he can flirt with you until you get terse.

After a moment of awkward silence, at least on your end, you move to break the tension. “We should go over your schedule for today.”

He gives an exaggerated sigh, turning to lean both arms back on the counter beside you. “If we have to.”

“Your stylist asked you to be on site by 10am so they would have time to get you ready before the photographers arrived.” You’re barely halfway through your sentence before Eddie is groaning, sinking a bit lower onto his elbows. Mustering a flat look, you turn your head in his direction. “Why are you pouting?”

“I forgot the fucking photoshoot was today.” A ringless hand comes up to rub at the side of his face, still a bit swollen from sleep. “The only thing worse is those stupid press interviews.”

You turn back to the soap filled bowl in your gloved hands to hide your smile. “Good thing that’s not today. The interview is later this week.” Eddie’s reaction is instantaneous and dramatic – he moans in outrage as he slides all the way down to the floor beside you, leaning over to lightly hit his forehead against the side of your outer thigh over and over.

“I swear, it’s like you hate me,” his voice is muffled from below, face directed down. “You hate me when I have been nothing but nice to you.”

An amused snort leaves you against your will at the idea. His head whips back to look up at you in surprise and you barely manage to school your expression in time. “It’s not personal, Eddie. I’m just doing my job.”

“Speaking of your job,” he picks himself up off the floor in a less-than-graceful fashion, his sweatpants running much lower as he rises. You keep your eyes in the sink as you wipe down the last coffee mug left and pretend you aren’t seeing him adjust the fabric around his groin. “I need you to walk my lizard today.”

Halfway through removing the stopper from the sink to drain the used water, you freeze with your forearm still in the slowly lowering water. “Excuse me?”

He’s leaning on his elbow again, a smug smile on his face as he watches your reactions. “My lizard. You know, the one upstairs?” You make a noise of acknowledgement that you know what lizard he’s referring to. “He needs to be walked once a week. Specifically on sunny days. Normally around noon when the sun is highest, so he gets the most of the heat, y’know?”

You feel your eyebrows drawing together in confusion, trying to think back to what you know about lizards. Which, admittedly, is not much. Still, needing to walk a lizard sounds incorrect. You’ve never seen someone walking around with their lizard on a leash. You’re about to start to question him more when you catch sight of his expression. He has his lips drawn in between his teeth, his eyes pinched tight as he tries not to laugh. “... You’re fucking with me.” The laugh escapes as a bark, his palm slapping down on the counter beside you as it echoes out into the high ceilings of the brownstone. “You almost fell for it too!”

Bristling in annoyance and just a little bit of embarrassment, you take a deep breath and hang the damp gloves over the edge of the now-empty sink to dry. “I think it’s time for you to get ready to leave.”

His mirth dies down fast, his head rolling back to sigh at the ceiling. “But, and here’s the thing right, I really don’t want to go.” You make another noncommittal noise, not looking to encourage his antics right now. Neck rolling toward you, that cheeky grin that you’ve come to loathe is back. “Beg me and I’ll do it.”

Another exhale out of your nose to remain calm, you weigh your options. If you beg, you are playing into his games and encouraging antics like this. But, you also get the result you want faster. If you refuse, you are technically standing your ground, but could end up with a bigger fight to try to get him ready and out the door in time. Deciding to play his game, you give him the flattest expression you’re capable of. “Will you please get ready to leave for your photoshoot?”

This time the sigh he lets out is satisfied, his shoulders falling and eyes closing in what looks like relief. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re accompanied by a lazy smile. “Love when you say please.” He taps the tip of your nose, shocking you still, as he turns back toward the stairs. “I’ll be ready in no time!”

He is not ready in no time.

You’re standing at the bottom of the stairs at 10:10am and have still not seen head nor tail of Eddie since he traipsed back up. The car outside has already honked twice, letting you know it’s waiting, but you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Eddie, we’re already late!” Your voice echoes through the multi-floor space, definitely loud enough for him to hear, but you get no response. Patience running thin, you raise your voice again. “Eddie!”

You finally hear him reply, voice far off. “I got stuck in my pants, maybe you should come up and help me!”

Pressing your fingertips to your brow bone hard enough to pull the skin of your eyelid, you call back, “If you’re struggling to put your own pants on, I should probably call a medical professional.”

The soles of now-familiar boots appear at the top of the tall staircase, your eyes trailing up their occupant as he begins to slowly lumber his way down the stairs. He’s in his usual attire. Scuffed Doc Martens, a pair of black jeans stretched tight over his endless thighs, leather jacket fitted against his frame, those chunky rings adorning his fingers. Around his neck he wears multiple silver chains of varying sizes, dipping low into the collar of his shirt. “Y’know you could stand to be a little more fun.”

You remain firm, arms crossed as you wait for him to hit the final step. “I don’t think I understand your version of fun.” He blows a raspberry in your direction as he crosses the foyer to start shoving things into the already-tight pockets of his jeans. “We’re already late, and that means we are just delaying further when we can get to your preferred portion of the day at the studio.”

He meets your eyes through the mirror before him. Both of you showing an attempt at nonchalance. “I swear, sometimes when you talk it’s like a fly buzzing around my head and I just,” he swats once, “can’t,” twice, “get it,” three times, “to stop.”

“Maybe you should get better aim,” you offer coolly as you cross behind him to hold open the front door, hoping to get him to finally walk through it. “Or, better yet, you should consider actually listening to me instead of letting it go in one ear and out the other.”

“But it's like a buzzing little bee in my ear. Gets so annoying whenever you’re droning on and on about responsibilities and my to do list and shit.” He walks past you as he continues his rant, bouncing down the small set of stairs leading to street level. You’ve just turned back from locking the door when he whirls on you. “Maybe if you wore something a little more easy on the eyes, I’d be able to focus more on what comes out of your mouth.”

When you grit your teeth, his grin only grows, backing up towards the black sedan waiting for you both. Your voice is a thinly veiled warning when you start to say, “Eddie –”

“Careful, little Bee,” he opens the door, lifting a boot to rest on the frame. “If you get too aggressive, you’ll lose your stinger for good.” Then he falls into the darkened car, leaving the door open and sliding across so you can get in next to him. With no other option, you stomp down your frustration and climb in after him.

You’re not sure what to expect as the car pulls up in front of an abandoned warehouse out on Long Island. At first glance, it’s a dilapidated looking hole in the wall. From where you’re sitting, you can see the rusted metal roofing, the smashed in windows, exposed beams standing erect to hold up the exterior of the building. You knew the team intended for a grungier, broken down scene to represent the lyrics of the band’s latest album portraying a man’s downfall; however, you hardly anticipated something such as this in the seemingly middle of nowhere.

Eddie’s knee spreads further right from where he sits next to you, jean-clad thigh brushing yours ever so softly. Your head shifts to take him in, gaze trailing instantaneously to where you’re connected, stamping down the feeling that wells up and lingers behind your ribs with every fleeting moment such as this. His amber eyes are shrouded behind a pair of sunglasses today, tattooed hand nearest to you sprawled over his bent kneecap. There’s a thought burgeoning in his gaze, ever present before he ever even opens his mouth to speak out his reluctant drawl of, “Guess it’s now or never.”

The two of you slide out the car in unison on opposite sides of the respective vehicle, winding around the exterior and meeting to join in the center of the uneven, grassy ground. His lip quirks upward as he takes in the sight of you like a newborn doe on heels that insist on sinking into the ground, head tipping your way in the only acknowledgement of your presence you’ll likely receive. Inside, you’re immediately greeted by rusted over conveyor belts in the center of the room. There are steel beam stairs leading to an upper deck overlooking the central portion of the interior. To your left is the wall least eaten away by rust throughout the years, silver metal spanning from floor to ceiling, with endless lights positioned around the edges of the parameters to illuminate the set.

Your head tips to Eddie, standing there disinterested as ever, head tipping up to the sky, visible through the broken up ceiling. Like this, you can see every dark wave of hair that dances along the leather of his jacket, the ridges on the column of his pale throat, the tattoos that creep up high along the neckline of his collar, hinting at intricate detailing beneath. And then that left hand settles over the bridge of his sunglasses and pushes them upward, the glint of his wedding ring catching in your field of view, and you set your gaze on the glowing set before you as you edge closer to your destination.

The room itself is bustling. People shift and mill about the warehouse, carrying various pallets and crates in hand and positioning them strategically around the room in order to create impactful angles for the intended photos. Workers chat amongst themselves with cameras draped around their necks, clipboards in hand as they mark down a list of tasks you’re not privy to. Once nearer to the group, a woman comes barreling over in a flurry of movement. She’s gorgeous. Deep russet skin, dark hair styled to perfection, a tape measure over her shoulder, and a pair of leather pants curled over a forearm. You catch the glint of her artful gold hoops in either of her ears and the bright makeup covering her eyelids. You admire the rips in her jeans and the fabric of her oversized hoodie as she tuts audibly and glares Eddie’s way. You assume this isn’t the first time Eddie’s run behind schedule, try as you might to get him there as close to on time as possible.

“You’re late!” She admonishes, hand dropping to a popped out hip. For the first time since you’ve been working for Eddie, you catch the slight drop in his steely facade. It’s barely noticeable, just the slightest downturn of his lips, but you capture it all the same, knowing this woman intimidates him in a way no one else seems capable of doing so. She turns to you then, flashing you a megawatt smile. “Erica. Erica Sinclair. I’m Corroded Coffin’s stylist. I’m sure you tried your very best to get him here on time, but you see Edward wouldn’t be Edward if he wasn’t late to everything.”

“Fashionably late, Sinclair.” She glances him up and down, clearly unimpressed by his excuse, and curls a hand around his shoulder.

“Says the man who would wear the same ugly ass Hellfire shirt to every fitting when I first started working with you all. It’s a miracle by my own doing that you know how to dress yourself now. Come on, the team is already paying for your lateness,” she says, and without another word your way, she ushers him to a trailer standing just outside of the warehouse, where you anticipate the rest of the band to be readying for their photoshoot within.

You’re left to stand in the back of the warehouse, trying to keep out of the way of those working around you. With a low sigh, you wander over to the furthest wall covered in sheet metal and broken in windows, looking out into the grassy landscape. A bird flits on by, drawing your attention, just as a voice sounds from behind you. Jolting, you whirl on the heel and spot none other than Steve himself, and beside him, a man you’ve yet to meet before.

The man’s bearded face is twisted in a scowl as he shouts into his brick of a cell phone. He’s gesticulating wildly, dark curls bouncing with every angry movement. You can only catch snippets of his impassioned rant, but you’ve gathered enough to know that he does not suffer fools gladly.

Steve stands awkwardly beside the man, wincing on occasion at his booming voice. The scene is not entirely inviting, but you have no choice but to approach when Steve’s gaze catches yours. His face lights up in recognition, and he waves his hand to beckon you near. As you approach, Steve steps forward and briefly pats your upper back in greeting.

“Glad to see you made it! I want to introduce you to our band manager, Murray Bauman.” Steve motions you over with a warm smile until another shrill taunt from the man in question has him flinching away. “But let’s just give him a minute, shall we?” You agree politely and turn with Steve to observe Murray closing out his phone conversation.

“I don’t care how busy you are, get it done TODAY!” Murray’s barking demand echoes throughout the warehouse, and you stare as he rips the phone from his ear and takes out his frustrations by repeatedly smashing the end call button. He lets out an annoyed breath before pushing his wireframe glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“Fair warning, he can be… bold.” Steve whispers this warning for your ears only. Just another hothead for the collection, you snort to yourself. You deal with Eddie Munson on a daily basis. How much worse could Murray Bauman be? Steve walks ahead of you to serve as the bridge during introductions. Before Steve can offer an explanation, Murray’s annoyed face takes in your approach with suspicion.

“Who are you? Harrington, why are you bringing this person to bother me?” Murray interrogates you immediately. He regards you skeptically, assessing whether you are worth his time or attention.

“Murray, this is the assistant I was telling you about,” Steve explains, offering your name as he beckons you forward. “You know, the one who is currently working with Eddie.”

“You mean the one you forced me to hire?”

Steve casts a furtive glance your way before his gaze whips back to Murray, the stare holding weight as he replies, “She’s lasted four months, Murray.”

Murray looks back flatly as Steve tries to impress some knowledge upon him with a combination of wide hazel eyes and bushy brows. Behind his wireframe glasses, Murray squints. “Four months?” He replies skeptically, and Steve nods slowly.

“Four months,” he enunciates slowly, and you watch the men communicate through shifting facial expressions: Steve’s eyes implore Murray to be civil, while Murray appears exasperated by the prospect of niceties. Eventually, Murray lets out a groan before forcing his face into a perfunctory smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Murray offers, insincerity lacing his every word. His dark eyes cut to Steve as if to ask - happy now? All at once, his mask crumbles and he returns to his brash self. “Do me a favor, yeah? Keep Munson in line. I’d prefer to not clean up any more of his messes.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” you reply. “It’s very nice to mee–”

“What the hell are you wearing?” Murray sounds appalled, disgust written all over his face. His question makes you stutter to a stop. You look down at your outfit and see nothing untoward - white blouse, black cardigan, plaid pleated skirt, dark tights, and chunky heels. It’s simple and professional. It’s safe. Or so you thought. Confused, you look back up to see that Murray isn’t making eye contact with you. Instead, he’s glaring at something or someone behind you. That’s when you register the sound of heavy boots thudding your way. You turn to see who has inspired such a visceral reaction from Murray, but instinctively you know who you’ll find.

Eddie.

He strides toward you with Erica by his side. She looks proud of her work, and you can’t blame her. Eddie looks… well, he looks hot. To put it bluntly. Erica has given Eddie a monochrome look that’s enhanced by different textures and accessories. His black suit is striking with its satin lapels and tailored fit. The suit jacket is unbuttoned, revealing the pièce de résistance - a mesh top that leaves little to the imagination.

“You look ridiculous! Where’s the rest of your shirt?” Murray’s question is directed at Eddie, but his scowl is aimed straight at Erica. Any other person would have withered under the intensity of his glower, but Erica seems emboldened by it.

“Where’s the rest of your hair?!” Erica counters without a moment's hesitation, arms crossed in defiance. “Leave the dressing to the experts. Seriously, Murray. You look like a sad, middle-aged hack going through a divorce.”

“Oh, spare me, Sinclair.”

Erica and Murray’s jibes muddle with Steve’s pleas to stop, eventually fading into background noise as you observe the man standing before you.

You have to hand it to Erica - it’s a daring look. The mesh hugs Eddie’s torso in a way that flatters his lithe frame and provides just enough of a glimpse of his tattoos to captivate any onlooker. His pale skin is heavily decorated in ink, and you can’t help but try deciphering what you’re seeing through the mesh. Eddie’s collection of tattoos seems to pay homage to his love of music and fantasy. On his left side, you spy an unusual string instrument with the word bard etched underneath. Just below that, you see artwork of a dagger with a blade made of uniquely shaped dice. By his right ribcage, Eddie has a tattoo of a mighty dragon with wings poised for flight. The dragon’s claws seemingly tear into the supple skin of Eddie’s toned abdomen. You follow the dragon’s scales down, down, down until its tail disappears beneath Eddie’s suit trousers - along with a little patch of sparse hair below his navel.

I wonder where that tattoo ends. The thought jolts you back to reality. This is your client— your very married client— whose wife has been nothing but kind to you. The guilt and shame overwhelm you.

You become very aware that you’re still ogling Eddie’s body, and your eyes race upwards to find a more appropriate location to settle. Unfortunately, your retreat to safety is foiled by the glimmer of metal you spot by Eddie’s nipples. You feel flustered by the sudden warmth blossoming within you. Eddie Munson has his nipples pierced. You had been too distracted by his tapestry of tattoos to notice them at first, but now you’ll never be able to forget that the piercings exist. Great going, you think to yourself, you try to avoid staring at your client's happy trail only to stare at his nipple piercings instead. Well done, very professional.

To your horror, Eddie has caught you staring. He sports a look of faux disappointment with his plump lips pushed into a pout. His tattooed hand points to his face, and he teases, “Tsk, tsk, little Bee. My eyes are up here.”

Your mind races to find a suitable excuse for your staring, or better yet, a way to deny it happened in the first place. Eddie is looking at you like he’s a spider that has caught you in his web, and you break eye contact to save some face. It ends up being the wrong decision because your mortification only deepens when you realize that Murray and Steve have witnessed Eddie’s accusation. Erica has long since departed after her verbal sparring match with Murray. Without her there to act as the target for his irritation, Murray is now laser-focused on you and Eddie. “Hmm… that’s interesting,” he observes, his head tilting to the side in curiosity.

“What’s interesting?” Steve asks.

“Keep up, Harrington,” Murray offers no explanation and instead dodges Steve’s question with a dismissive wave of his hand. Steve places his hands on his hips looking utterly bewildered. He goes to speak again, but Murray beats him to the punch. “So, Munson… I hear that your assistant has lasted four months working with you. Is that right?”

Murray’s inquiry has an instant effect on Eddie’s body language. His playful pouting has dissipated, and his stance now appears guarded. He crosses his arms over his chest— over the distracting nipple piercings, thank god— as he eyes his band manager cautiously. “... why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason at all. Just curious,” Murray replies nonchalantly. “You must be getting along.” You don’t know Murray well at all. However, you do know Eddie well enough to take his weariness as a signal that things could soon become uncomfortable.

“I haven’t scared her off, yet. If that’s what you mean,” Eddie scoffs. “But don’t worry, I’m still working on it.” It’s a classic Eddie move - making a joke of something to avoid showing any hint of being rattled. He throws a coquettish grin in your direction, which does not go unnoticed by Murray. Steve looks uneasy, as if this conversation will upset whatever balance you’ve struck with Eddie.

“I sure hope she isn’t stroking your ego too much.” Murray’s tone is blasé, but his implication is clear. “And you better not be giving her a mouthful.” Steve can no longer stand idly by now that he has finally caught onto what Murray found so intriguing. He swoops in to intervene by physically placing himself between Eddie and Murray.

“Well this has been fantastic,” Steve forces a laugh out and runs a shaky hand through his brown locks. “Murray, let’s continue that chat about merch, yeah?” He is practically vibrating with nervous energy as he tries encouraging Murray to move.

Allowing himself to be led away, Murray offers a farewell over his shoulder, “Good luck, kid. If you need anything, anything at all, do not contact me. Bother Harrington instead.” At the mention of his name, Steve turns briefly to mouth I’m sorry as the pair exit.

Mind spinning off kilter from everything that occurred in the last few minutes, you turn yourself back toward Eddie for a sense of stability. Since when is Eddie something constant in your life? You find a very tense-looking man. The muscles in his jaw are pulled tight as he glares at the spot once occupied by Murray. The moment ends quickly as if he can feel your eyes on him. Eddie annoyingly seems to have gained a sixth sense for knowing when you’re staring. His crossed arms fall along with the seriousness of his expression, hands tucking into his front pockets. The action only causes his pants to inch lower and, for a split second, your eyes are instinctively drawn to the patch of skin now on show.

My eyes are up here.

The echo in your brain rings out and has your glance jumping back up in horror. Eddie watches every movement and his lips pull between his teeth again, the same face he made this morning when he was trying not to laugh. All you can offer in defense is rolling your shoulders back to look taller and making your gaze sharper, daring him to say something. He lifts his hands in surrender, his lips popping out into a self-satisfied smile as he turns on his heel and saunters back toward the set, whistling all the while. You begrudgingly follow after him.

Eddie’s pace is unhurried as he drags his feet in a clear display of apathy. You spot the rest of the band gathered around a petite woman speaking animatedly and pointing to various spots on the set. She’s captivating with her high cheekbones, loose brunette waves, and eyes like the ocean. Those eyes narrow upon seeing Eddie’s dawdling.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” she chides. “We’ve been waiting on you. Hurry it up.”

“Hello to you, too, Wheeler. I didn’t realize you were so excited to see me. I’d hate to disappoint a fan,” Eddie teases with a roguish grin wide across his face. Much to your surprise, he picks up his pace and joins the others in listening to Nancy— whose first name you learn indirectly, thanks to Eddie’s habit of calling everyone by their last names— detail the aim of today’s photoshoot. She explains that the media team will be experimenting with several looks in order to use the photos for both album promotion and touring purposes.

Eddie turns to you as Nancy begins guiding the others to their spots on set. “Enjoy the show. You sure seemed to earlier.” He winks and turns on his heel to join the others.

Deny! Deflect! Do something!

“I was only admiring Erica’s work! It had nothing to do with you.” You can see Eddie’s shoulders shaking with laughter, and you know he’s not convinced. To be fair, you haven’t convinced yourself either. It sounds weak even to your ears, like a last-ditch effort to save your dignity. Feeling defeated, you slump over to the chairs lining the wall where you can watch the photoshoot concealed behind the photography equipment.

Two hours pass and the band is still preoccupied with taking pictures. You watch as they’re pushed and pulled into different poses and settings. The process feels overall repetitive, but Nancy does her best to keep energy levels high. She directs the photographers to get solo shots, which leads to hilarious chaos as the band hypes each other up behind the camera. “Yeah, Harry! Rock out with your Cox out!”

Despite the momentary amusement, you find yourself mostly bored watching from the sidelines. You’re both surprised and grateful when you see a familiar face enter the set. Robin peers around at the flurry of activity before making her way over to you.

“Finally some good company,” you breathe out in relief. Robin is delightful to be around, and you mean it when you share your appreciation for her presence. She gives you a sympathetic look before taking a seat beside you.

“These things can take forever,” she commiserates. “But Nancy will keep them on track. Don’t worry. They’re lucky to have her. She’s brilliant.” Her husky voice sounds especially warm with adoration.

Just as Robin said, Nancy is brilliant in her precise and methodical approach. She directs the crew in adjusting the lights and backdrops with ease. Her critical eye allows her to observe each shot and offer valuable posing guidance. It’s impressive to watch someone be so in her element.

You and Robin sit together and make small talk until there’s a break for a set and wardrobe change. Robin excuses herself and makes her way over to Nancy. You notice Nancy’s focused demeanor melt into one of warmth upon Robin's approach, and the sight of their friendly affection for one another brings a smile to your face. Quite honestly, it makes you miss your friends; you’ve been so busy since starting this job that you haven’t found much time to see them.

Eddie walks past the pair on his way to meet Erica, briefling nodding at his wife in acknowledgement. He stops abruptly and looks around at the crowded set before swiveling back to face them.

“Hey Wheeler, did Robin tell you she’s getting new headshots done for her upcoming play?” he asks. “Do you mind giving her some pointers while we break?”

Nancy brightens at the suggestion, “That’s a great idea. I’d be happy to help!”

“Why don’t you two go somewhere private? I don’t want all these people leering at my sexy wife when she’s posing.” Eddie winks at Robin, who whispers a quiet ‘thank you’ before leaving with Nancy. You’re touched by what you’ve just witnessed. Eddie is actually a supportive and loving husband. The longing hits you unexpectedly. When will it be my turn? Soulmate, where are you?

It’s exhausting to pine for someone you haven’t met yet. You have all of this love to give without a person to receive it and reciprocate. It feels aimless, like being adrift in the dark ocean with no light to guide you home. You’re too lost in your yearning to notice that Eddie has returned and is standing beside your chair.

“Everything okay, Bee?” The question physically jolts you from surprise. You wait for the inevitable teasing from Eddie about catching you off guard. Instead, you look up to find Eddie eyeing you closely. Whatever he sees in you in that moment must cause him concern. His brow is furrowed, and there’s an unexpected tenderness in his gaze.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I got distracted by my thoughts.”

“Well, that’s no good. What did I tell you this morning about having more fun?” Eddie hold his hand out for you to take, and he gently coaxes you to stand. His calloused hands feel rough against your gentleness, but you find it comforting. Once upright, he drops your hand and offers out his arm out as a replacement. “Come on, I’ve got just the idea to break you out of your shell.”

The two of you walk side by side comfortably, and Eddie guides you to where the band and Nancy have reconvened. The guys are looking up at one of the warehouse walls in deep observation. You squint your eyes, searching for something on the wall that might be drawing their attention. Having no success, you look back to the band and realize they’re each holding something. Are those spray paint cans? Your ears perk up at the sound of rattling as Gareth shakes the can he’s holding. Yeah, definitely spray paint. You send a quizzical look Eddie’s way.

“Murray thought we needed some more edgy photos. He suggested we graffiti the wall for the next set,” he explains. “Wheeler was all worried about it, but… Murray knows best.” He mutters the last part bitterly, shaking his head with distaste. “He might actually be right about this, though.” Eddie steps forward, breaking your linked arms, and snags two spray paint cans from the ground. He holds one out to you, his face alight with mischief.

You look around self consciously, noting that Steve and Murray are both within view. You fidget nervously and contemplate whether you can let your hair down while on the job. No one else appears to be partaking; only the band members have been given spray paint. “Are you sure about this? I think it’s just meant for you all.”

Eddie throws his head back with an exaggerated groan. “Come on! Live a little.” He snaps out of his dramatics when he hears the sound of hissing fill the air from the spray paint cans in use. Gareth, Jeff, and Harry have already begun doodling on the wall without him. “See?! We’re missing out on the fun because you’re overthinking.”

He extends the can out to you once more, gently nudging you to partake. He grins widely when you take the simple black paint from him reluctantly. You can do this. Show him you’re not always so uptight.

You slowly approach the wall and think about what to paint. You need to show him that you can have fun and keep up with his jokes. The idea comes to you easily, and you get to work on your masterpiece. It’s a simple piece that only takes a few minutes for you to prepare. .

Eddie is intently focused on drawing a large, crimson devil’s face, and you need to wave to get his attention. When his eyes meet yours, you point to your painting and await his reaction. Previously blank, the wall now sports the image of a humble bumblebee. The bee has two basic stripes, fluttering wings, and most importantly - a stinger. Eddie’s warning from this morning is fresh on your mind. If you get too aggressive, you’ll lose your stinger for good.

Your artistic choice has the intended effect, and Eddie lets out a hearty laugh. He smiles at you, and those brown eyes crinkle at the corners with joy. He looks proud, and it stirs something unexpected inside of you. You find that you like pleasing him.

“Atta girl.”

You suppress a shiver that the hum of his voice conjures despite the flippancy of his words.

That photoshoot, though chaotic in and of itself, somehow ended up becoming the calm before the storm for you. A demarcation point beyond which your days became filled with the relentless pursuit of planning a multi-month tour for a moderately famous industrial metal band. Days that had previously been spent ushering Eddie around to meetings with some semblance of timeliness and bringing him snacks when he gets cranky are now consumed by filling a thickening manilla envelope with neat documents, each marked with your precise handwriting as you plan and record each aspect of the trip logistics: contacting venues as per Steve’s direction, managing their hospitality riders, tracking expenses and budgeting for food and accommodations, as well as other minutiae that, frankly, has begun to make that vein throbbing in your neck a near constant companion by the end of the workday. The hours feel long, longer than they do when you’re trying to wrangle Eddie; though the days aren’t physically taxing as you spend them holed up at a desk fitted snugly into the closet you’d reorganized, they are mentally exhausting as those dates, dollar amounts, and contact names begin to tangle up in your head. You spill them out onto your trusty desk calendar, collecting them there as you stretch the strands and detangle them in order to begin weaving together Corroded Coffin’s first tour. It’s a feat you take no small measure of pride in.

Thankfully, during the weeks you spent taming this beast of a task, Eddie and the guys had been occupied almost entirely with rendering the final mix of their album. They’d worked closely with Argyle in refining the balance and levels of instruments and ambient sounds that would create the dirty industrial feel they were seeking with this upcoming release. You’d popped out of your stuffy little closet occasionally to check on them, though they didn’t seem to need much beyond being fed. Eddie, in particular, seemed quite consumed by a desire to see the vision brought to life, and was as serious and engaged as you’d ever seen him with a chair pulled up next to Argyle. That’s where you’d almost always see him when you emerged— long fingers idly twisting chunky rings, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed while he listened carefully and assisted in tweaking such small changes that you hardly could tell the difference with your unpracticed ear. He had a beeper to page you, but through your months of working with him, you’d begun to anticipate what he needs to sustain him daily in this routine— a hot to-go cup of black coffee first thing in the morning; at least half a box of cigarettes in the pocket of his leather jacket, on call for a smoke break; a salty snack around his lull time of four in the afternoon, which you rotate to keep him from getting bored; and next-to-no interruptions except a quick meeting of your gazes a few times a day in case it reminds him to ask you for something.

And now, finally, as late August adorns the New York streets with haze rising from the asphalt and paints sidewalks with the frantic bustle of summer tourists, your strands of dates and locations and prices and contact names have now been woven together to form a complete tapestry: Accommodations for Corroded Coffin’s ‘95-’96 Album Tour. All the knotted muscles in your shoulders, the bloodshot eyes, the late nights and early mornings had been worth it to get to this point— the point at which the final picture of what exactly that tour would entail has been tied off into neat and tidy knots of thorough efficiency. You stretch your arms above your head and your spine pops with relief; despite the fatigue you feel fuzzing between your eyebrows, you push back your chair almost cheerily and pull the headphones from your ears, prepared pop from the closet and join the men whose tour you’ve just planned.

When you emerge, you expect to see them all in some approximation of the same position as usual— Argyle and Eddie sat in front of the mixing board, Harry hovering close behind, and Gareth and Jeff either mucking about in the studio or sprawled on the couches in the corner where they call out their contributions. Instead, you’re surprised by the presence of an unexpected figure, who acts as the nexus point around which the rest of the band hovers. He’s got his hands stuffed under his armpits and his hip jutted out, one loafer tapping against the floor, though behind his wire-rimmed spectacles he looks less irritated than the last time you’d seen him. I suppose having the tour booked and the album finished would put any band manager in a decent mood, you think, eager to join the throng of smiling men who gather around him.

“What’s on the menu? Anything good? ” Gareth is asking as you walk up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is free food not good enough for you? You eat Smarties in Yoohoo as breakfast cereal. Get a grip,” Murray snipes, and laughter rumbles through the group.

“Oh!” All eyes turn to you at your little sound of surprise. “What promo event are you discussing? Did Steve plan something? I don’t remember seeing it on my weekly agenda notes from him.”

There is a beat of uncharacteristic silence from everyone before Jeff speaks— not quite tripping over himself, but with an extra edge of enthusiasm you don’t typically hear in his voice. “No, no,” he assures you quickly. “You didn’t miss anything. It’s a celebration for finishing the album, not a promo event. Just a get together Murray planned for us tomorrow.” He lifts his brows, eyes warm and sincere, if not a little too wide. “You gonna be there?”

That familiar feeling in your chest— that subtle deflating that sinks into your stomach, reminding you of cafeteria tables lacking in saved space and friends reminiscing over shared experiences you hadn’t even been aware of— weighs you down inside as you look into Jeff’s kind face. It stings, the knowledge that you hadn’t quite been forgotten or excluded, but only just— only because you’d emerged from your makeshift office and wandered into the conversation at just the right moment. Had you not, you would have been none the wiser, and it makes Jeff’s question— ‘You gonna be there?’ — feel awkwardly like you’ve invited yourself.

Still, you choose to save face. “Oh, gotcha!” you say, turning to Murray. “Where is it?”

The neutrality in Murray’s expression in place of his typical sardonic scowl almost makes you feel worse. “My place. You been to the Upper West Side?” You nod. “You can show up anytime after seven. I’ll have Harrington shoot you the address, kid.”

You brace yourself against this second blow— being called ‘kid’ as if you really are just Eddie’s babysitter, as if you hadn’t just single-handedly coordinated an entire tour’s-worth of hotels and restaurants and activities— and smile. “Thank you,” you say, avoiding the dark brown eyes of one curly-haired menace.

Because if there’s pity there, too— pity like the kind you felt in Jeff’s too-wide smile or Murray’s soft nod— you think you might just burst into hot, utterly humiliating tears.

On Friday night, it takes some time for you to dress and even longer for you to resolve to actually attend the celebration party. That last-minute invite has rocked your sense of self, manifesting most clearly in the lack of clarity regarding your outfit. Clothes are strewn across your typically-orderly room like a cyclone of indecision has torn through it, and what you’ve chosen feels barely adequate: silver jewelry, simple mary janes, and a black silk blouse that flows like water against your skin, tucked loosely into the waistband of your bootcut blue jeans. You’d settled on the blouse chiefly because of the color, as if with some subconscious desire to blend in with the men you work with so that maybe next time they won’t forget about you.

After a good nights rest unencumbered by that looming task still hanging over your head— since you’d finally completed it, to your relief— and some consideration, you’d reasoned that the reason for your late invitation was probably not malicious. And when you’d checked your email to see that, not even twenty minutes after your conversation with Murray had Steve emailed and sent you details and the address, it essentially confirmed it. Sure, it certainly still stung knowing that you hadn’t been thought of from the get-go, but you chalked it up to your newness and the fact that you’d been cloistered in your ‘office’ so often lately.

You’d concluded the mistake was likely innocent, and as you stand outside the front door to Murray’s apartment hesitating to knock, you find yourself desperately hoping you’re right, and that you haven’t made a mistake by coming after all. This job is already so different from any you’d had before— nowhere else had you spent so much time intimately intertwined with the details of your employer’s life outside of a professional context. Spending time at Eddie’s apartment to wash his dishes, coordinate his meals, take him to his appointments, fetch him the things he needs… look after him… it all feels more domestic than professional, though in this role, really, those things are one in the same. It blurs the lines and leaves you strangely yearning for inclusion, leaves you feeling more vulnerable, as you finally press your index to the doorbell, than you’d honestly prefer.

A flash of panic hits you as you hear the approach of footsteps beyond the door. You prepare yourself for the sight of Murray’s face half-twitched into a reluctantly-polite smile as the rest of the men stare at you from their seats, drinks dangling from their hands as their eyes turn quickly from you and back to one another.

But when the door swings open, you’re instead greeted with the sight of Gareth’s poofy brown bangs and pink cheeks as he smiles so widely at the sight of you you’re sure his face must ache from it. “She made it!” he exclaims into your face, breath puffing loose and acrid with alcohol as he hooks an arm around your shoulder to pull you inside amidst a rousing chorus of elongated ‘ay’s from the rest of the band.

Your apprehension dissolves like seafoam as he pulls you eagerly inside.

The interior of Murray’s apartment feels as though you’ve walked into a time capsule. You aren’t sure whether the mid-century modern theme is because Murray is partial to the style or because he hasn’t bothered updating the furnishings since the seventies, but judging by his half-unbuttoned ‘party’ shirt striped with deep brown and cream— displaying no little amount of bushy chest hair within which a gold chain is nestled— you figure it’s probably the latter. You look around with interest at the furnishings, intrigued by the design’s ability to feel both high end and also warm, quite a contrast from the modern crispness many favor nowadays. Gareth doesn’t give you much time to sight-see as he leads you towards the party’s epicenter in the living room, though you do notice that the walls are a bold burnt orange, accented by geometric wallpaper and bookshelves filled with vintage books and knick-knacks likely gathered on Murray’s travels. As you pad over the shag carpet in your mary janes, your gaze is drawn to the men crowded on the low-slung sofa around a sleek, glass-top coffee table. The air is hazy with smoke, which wafts from a cigar resting in a crystal ashtray near Murray’s elbow, and the record-player in the corner is crackling with jazz— Miles Davis, if your memory serves you correctly.

All-in-all, it’s nothing what you expected Corroded Coffin’s album-completion party to look like, down to the way they all perk as Gareth leaves you to hover near the side of the couch while he plops back down in his spot on the floor. It’s all the familiar faces you would expect, and no one else. Murray, Steve and Argyle sit on low-profile armchairs pulled up beside the coffee table where cards and poker chips clearly indicate they’re in the middle of a game; Jeff and Gareth are seated together on the floor, and they lift their drink glasses to you when your eyes pass over them; and finally, Harry and Eddie are on the couch, knees spread wide and comfortable as they slouch, though they straighten at your approach. The mens’ greetings become a cacophony of friendly voices you can’t possibly discern as they overlap happily, and you accept them with somewhat shy nods but a pleased smile. Harry immediately shifts over towards the couch’s arm, and when he notices, Eddie does the same, narrowing his knees and shuffling over to the opposite side to make room for you.

It’s a clear invitation, one that makes warmth bloom in your chest as you step carefully over Harry’s shoes to sink onto the low velvet couch between them.

“Did you find the place okay?” Steve asks, and you meet his hazel eyes as you reply,

“Yes, thanks. Actually, my aunt lives—” You find a cup suddenly thrust into your fingers, and you close them hastily around textured glass, glancing down at the amber liquid inside. “What is this?”

“Whiskey, my dude,” Argyle replies, settling back into his chair with a lopsided grin. “Bottoms up.”

You stare at it for a moment skeptically, already balking from the burn in your throat. But, like sharks in the water, they sense your hesitation; as if with one mind, the guys lean forward to goad you with some light ribbing, flashing brows, and wide grins. All except Murray, that is, who seems more impatient to get back to the poker game as he grouses and sighs impatiently.

In the end, it’s Eddie’s elbow in your side and his brown eyes catching yours that do it— his gestures are loose with alcohol, and yet more gentle than you typically see him. “C’mon, little Bee.” He smiles, and something catches in your throat as it brightens his flushed face. “Time to get buzzed.”

Your head tosses back of its own accord as you laugh, tickled by the pun; when you look at him again, Eddie looks inordinately pleased with himself. “All right,” you concede; the guys cheer as Murray shakes his head. And though it burns just as much as you knew it would, when you clink that glass down against the coffee table, coughing slightly as Harry claps you jovially on the back, all you feel is warm. Warmth in your belly, warmth against your sides where Harry and Eddie sit beside you, warmth in your cheeks as you settle back against the cushions and look around at the friendly faces that surround you.

Now that you’ve been christened with your first drink, the group turns back to the game of poker your arrival had interrupted. You watch with interest as they take up their hands again, hiding your giggle behind your hand as Gareth dramatically flops backward in a sprawl on the floor when he loses to Jeff, who rakes the pile of chips in the center gleefully and dramatically into his corner of the table. “I put thirty dollars on that hand; come on, man,” Gareth whines, but Jeff pays him no mind nor offers any mercy.

“D’you know how to play?” Eddie asks you, and you shake your head.

“We can teach you,” Harry offers.

“Oh, I’m fine watching—” You begin to protest but it’s cut off almost as quickly with a sharp movement from Eddie, who snatches a handful of chips from his pile into his broad fist, heedless of the way some bounce to the shaggy carpet below. You’d felt warm in your belly, at your sides, and in your cheeks, but more than anything else, you feel that warmth in your heart as Eddie presses some of his poker chips into your open palm.

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to play,” he says matter-of-factly. “Just have some fun.”

You smile at him, a gentle curve of your lips to match the way he pats your wrist before lurching forward to pick up his fallen chips and receive his next hand.

Throughout the games of poker you play, you find yourself both having the fun Eddie had instructed you to and simultaneously watching him, marveling at the way the haze and jazz and laughs and velvet couch have… softened him, almost. He's clearly drunk— more than a little glassy-eyed, with flushed cheeks and loose, heedless swinging of his wild curls and his limbs as he celebrates victories and laments losses— but it’s accompanied by more easy smiles and cackling laughs than you’ve heard from him in the last few months combined. He’s full of life tonight, but without as much biting edge. And you can’t help but think that to see him like this, so relaxed, so happy…

It’s nice. Nice in a way that makes that feeling bloom again— the one you’d been feeling more often since the photoshoot. You shake it quickly away.

His joy fuels the others, you notice. You suppose it makes sense; Eddie’s boisterousness and overwhelming energy tends to dictate the tides despite others’ attempts to direct situations otherwise. And as the night wares on, that easy looseness eventually devolves to become a bit more wild. Of course, it doesn’t take much for some of the others to follow suit.

Somewhere between the umpteenth hand of poker and your third round of drinks, Argyle wanders into Murray’s kitchen and helps himself to the bottle of champagne chilling in an icebucket, most likely prepared by Steve— you can’t see Murray bothering with that. Steve perks up when he comes back over, rubbing his hands on his trousers and rising as he reaches to take it from Argyle.

“Thanks, Arg,” he says, but his gratitude ends up being a little hasty. Because rather than passing the bottle into his waiting hand, Argyle instead begins to shake it with a jerky flail of his arm, forcing Steve to retract his fingers, who huffs affrontedly. “I was gonna say something,” he protests, and while the exasperation is easy to read there, it’s overshadowed as Eddie leaps suddenly off the couch, crouching slightly, face alight with mischief as he circles Argyle on the rug. Once Eddie’s up, everyone follows suit— Jeff and Gareth scramble to join him, and you and Harry follow close behind, your hands clasping your elbows as you eye the proceedings with cautious amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, Steve, we all know what you’re gonna say,” Eddie drawls, but the wide smile on his face takes the edge off the sarcasm. “‘What an incredible accomplishment, we’ve worked so hard, the culmination of many months of effort—’ blah, blah, fuckin’ blah.” Eddie cackles as he flings his arm out to smack Steve companionably in the stomach, making his PR manager stumble slightly due to the accidental force behind the gesture. “Allow me.”

Eddie flourishes and bows dramatically, his wild curls splaying around his shoulders as he jerks his head up to address the group— his face is flushed, pink rather than pale, with a vein popping on his forehead, and you can’t help but shake your head in reluctant, wry amusement as he declares, “Fuck bitches, get money, make metal, and raise fucking hell, boys!”

And with that— without any forewarning, really, besides a slanted smirk— Argyle pops the cork from the champagne bottle, spraying Eddie directly in the face with it.

You don’t know why you wouldn’t have expected it, but you stiffen with a little jerk as Murray roars, “Fuckin’— dammit, Argyle, not on the goddamn rug—!”

His ire is quickly overtaken by joy that fills the room as Jeff and Gareth jump towards the spray, mouths open wide in wait; ever obliging, Argyle coats their faces, too, directing most of the alcohol into their mouths but playfully directing it toward you and Harry too. You squeal and giggle as fizzy drops coat you lightly, turning into Harry’s broad shoulder for protection as the spray gradually weakens until it’s nothing but a dribble dropping to the shag.

In the ensuing silence, Steve looks at Murray sympathetically. “I’ll bill him for the carpet cleaning,” he promises, wringing his hands until Murray’s face calms from apoplectic to merely deeply aggravated.

You’re briefly worried he may pop an aneurysm until Argyle— the only one of you still bone dry— distracts everyone by pulling something casually from his pocket. “Oh, brochachos. Almost forgot. I got this advance copy of the album finished last night.”

The boys explode in a flurry of potent outrage and glee. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us sooner?!” Jeff shouts, and you’re taken aback to see the most even-keeled member of Corroded Coffin shake his producer by the shoulders.

“Relax, dude,” Argyle drawls. “S’not fully mastered yet, but it’s close enough.”

And when the needle scratches to a halt on the record player, replacing smooth, dulcet jazz with the rhythmic drum beat of what you know is the boys’ favorite song on the album: ‘Closer.’

It also happens to be one of the best tracks to dance to, and the boys take advantage of that, though their movements— mostly just flailing limbs as they jump and headbang— are really just some crude approximation of dancing. Yet that doesn’t detract from the glee of the moment as, at some point you get pulled in, too, finding yourself in the middle of it all— laughing and swinging your head and shouting along with them. “I wanna fuck you like an animal!” you scream, chest effusive with bubbling joy as Eddie doubles over in wild, joyful laughter at the crudeness of the lyrics shouted in your alcohol-hoarsened voice. You find yourself swung by hands, twirled under arms, spinning and sing-shouting until your throat goes scratchy and your head a little fuzzy from all the activity.

As the song ends, Eddie steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, and you smile up at him appreciatively but are surprised when he doesn’t remove his hand. Instead, he tips his head, jerking it toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he says, and you see his lips move but barely hear his words underneath the booming of the next track, which echoes so loudly it nearly rattles the knick-knacks on Murray’s shelves.

You trail after your employer as he leads you to the kitchen, sloppily filling an empty glass with water from the sink and handing it to you without any explanation. The intuitiveness of the gesture surprises you, as does the way he hovers nearby while you take tiny sips to soothe your parched throat.

Eddie leans a hip against the counter, stuffing his hands in the back pockets of his dark jeans and looking you over appraisingly. It’s the first time you’ve really gazed at him all night, and as he appraises you, you don’t feel that instinctual need to hide, the impulse dulled by the warmth buzzing in your veins. Instead, you just appraise him back, eyes trailing over the silver of his handcuff belt buckle, the chain at his hip, the soft, faded black of his band t-shirt, your eyes lingering where he’s clearly torn the sleeves off, evident by dangling threads that tickle the alabaster of his pale biceps. His curls are frizzier than before, still damp and sticking to his neck from the champagne, and his plush lips are pinker than they typically are— shiny and wet as he licks across them with a swipe of his tongue.

You feel a distinct stirring deep in your belly and wrench your gaze from his mouth to his eyes, face heating as you anticipate a smirk and a crude remark, or perhaps a pointed comment about your wandering gaze. Yet Eddie’s face is calm, almost a little hesitant as he opens his mouth to speak— seemingly entirely consumed by what he wants to say. “So, you know we’re going on tour,” he says matter-of-factly, and you can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of it.

“I think I’ve gathered that. I mean, I’ve only been working out your accommodations for said tour for the past few weeks now,” you retort with a little smirk, and his lips curl in a lopsided grin at your sass. You anticipate a rebuttal, but Eddie continues without comment.

“Well, I know it might come as a shock that I’d be admitting this, but, ah…” He scratches the corner of his lips with one dark-painted fingernail, mouth stretched wide before he continues abruptly, “things have been running a little smoother since you came around. ‘Specially once you got the hang of washing my silky drawers right.”

Your growing pleasure at the praise flattens along with your expression at that final comment, though it eases when he smiles at you, crooked but wide, as eager as you’ve ever seen his smile be. “So,” he says with an air of dramatic finality, “how’s about you take that laundry service on the road?”

In what is almost more to goad him than in genuine disgust, you wrinkle your nose, and your chest warms again when he chuckles huskily, knocking you with his elbow lightly again. "What I'm try’na say is... you wanna come on tour with us?"

When you think back to the way this party began for you— with a split second of awkward silence and a hastily extended invitation, clearly late-to-come— you hadn’t anticipated the way it would end up. In that moment at the studio, you couldn’t imagine being welcomed in so readily, sprayed with champagne, twirled underneath their arms, and cared for with poker chips and glasses of water. You hadn’t thought you’d be here, standing with Eddie Munson in his manager’s kitchen, being invited by him personally to go on tour with the band.

It’s confirmation that you do have a place amongst them, and it’s also exactly why you took this job in the first place— the opportunity to explore beyond the limits of your current world.

"Yes,” you reply, and you can’t help it when your voice comes out honey sweet. “I'd really like that."

"Well, good,” Eddie huffs good-humoredly, “‘cause you kinda have to whether you like it or not. But I'm glad I don't have to twist your arm after all."

You nod, and something small— small and tenuous, trickling like briny water— flows between you and Eddie as you gaze at one another. "Well... thank you," you say, your voice soft and almost shy as you look up at him.

Eddie blinks, looking a little taken aback by the gratefulness in your expression. Quickly, his eyes jump from yours to track around the room as he says distractedly, "Sure, little Bee— Hey, Murray!” His hoarse voice rises in a shout as he skirts around you, trailing out of the kitchen as he calls wolfishy, “Where's your top shelf shit? I wanna get fuckin' blasted tonight."

You watch him lope off toward the living room again without sparing you another glance. Quickly, you drain your water glass, leaving it in the sink and wandering back into the fray until you find yourself elbow to elbow with Steve.

“So—” Your eyes find hazel as Steve regards you with a friendly, knowing smile. “You ready for that travel I promised you?”

Another wild cackle— one that, after tonight, threatens to haunt you in your sleep— draws both of your gazes. For a moment, you and Steve watch as Eddie sneaks up behind an unsuspecting Gareth, grappling him around the neck and tugging him into a headlock as the other man sputters and kicks at him. All at once, they seem to you much younger than their years, and it makes you consider the question.

Are you ready for the travel Steve promised you— travel where wrangling these unruly rockstars, and one in particular, is about to become even more of your daily existence?

You find, as Eddie shoves Gareth into Jeff and licks across his bottom teeth with a manic grin when the two recover and face him, readying themselves to retaliate, that you have no damn idea whether you’re ready or not.

Dear Soulmate…

The early morning of the first day on tour, your feet carry you around the familiar walls of your apartment, taking in the comforting sights you’ve woken up to for the past year. Angela watches from the kitchen island, eyes full of unshed tears, an unspoken awareness settling over the room. Your life has changed since becoming Eddie’s assistant. It’s a reality you’ve accepted for some weeks now, but it feels real now—more than it ever has before. Because now you’ll be traveling on tour with the band, with him, moving across state lines you’ve never roamed. It’s a world of endless opportunity ahead, new sights to see, places to explore. It dawns on you that your home in New York City will be a far and distant memory for the next months you’ll be following Corroded Coffin around the country.

I’m leaving on tour with Eddie and the band today. Isn’t that crazy? I’ve never been this far from home – traveling was just never something I had time to do. I was always so focused on school, on trying to make my parents proud, on trying to be perfect. And now, I’ll be traveling with a metal band across the country! I never thought this is where I’d end up, but I’m trying to learn to embrace the unexpected (it’s so scary though!). I definitely didn’t expect Eddie to be the one inviting me. Although, he acted like he really had no choice in the matter, it’s still strange.

Angela helps roll your multiple suitcases out into the main living area, mouth a wobbly line as you push them over onto their side and make sure you have everything you need one final time. Heels and other shoes, boots and sneakers in one duffel bag, each one a proper pair, freshly wiped down for any imperfection or defects. Another bag holds all your toiletries, makeup products, and hair tools should you ever need them. You unzip your suitcases next, peering in at various tights, dark skirts, dark colored sweaters, dark wash jeans for your off days.

Eddie is… well, we’re still working on our relationship. I think most of the time he feels like I’m annoying him on purpose, but I’m really just trying to do my job. He’s not used to being on a schedule, which is a little wild to me because that’s all I’ve ever known. And maybe that’s what makes him push me away so much. His wife says I need to push back a bit, but I’m worried about keeping my job… I think I’ve grown to like working for him.

Angela walks you down to the street, helping roll one of your bags down and onto the pavement. Cars and taxis speed by in a kaleidoscope of color, but your eyes latch solely on the rolled down window of the car sitting on the curb’s edge.

Eddie’s thre with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, those dark sunglasses of his shrouding his eyes, tattooed arm on display in the bright sun of the morning. An inky tapestry of intricate detail, etched with countless stories and meanings he’ll never divulge. In the front is Hopper, his usual bored demeanor in place as he opens the driver's side door and walks around to join you and your roommate. The back trunk of the vehicle pops open with a small beep, your heart hammering away as the heftier man helps hoist your things into the back and latches the car back into place.

“Ready?” Eddie calls from the car.

You’re on the clock, sure, but you still remind yourself to quench the desire to raise your middle finger in a vulgar gesture, annoyance writhing in your gut. Instead, you focus your tangle of nerves on the girl standing before you on the street, with her shiny blonde hair and mournful expression on her face. She takes a slow step forward, arms coming to curl around your shoulders. There’s a suddenness of the realization you won’t see her until you return to New York for the holiday season. For the last year you’ve woken to the comfort of the four walls of your bedroom, the warmth of your apartment, and your friendship with Angela.

“Go crush it,” she says, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, head close to your ear. “Take all the pictures. Try and enjoy yourself. New York will be here when you get back. I’ll be expecting as many phone calls as possible, and postcards of all the places you travel to! I want to hear about it all.”

He’s challenging, and yeah he calls me Bee (which I am STILL certain is short for Bitch despite his reassurances otherwise) but the work genuinely feels rewarding. Also, I am really enjoying getting to know the other guys in the band. They’re not friends, no, but they’re kind enough. And who knows? Maybe Eddie will come around. We don’t need to be friends, but I would like it if one day we could become colleagues, at the very least.

Eddie regards you with little interest, still unchanging in his distaste for any time before 12pm, as you clamber into the back of the car with him. He does not shift whatsoever to accommodate your presence, only haphazardly flicks his cigarette onto the concrete below and dips his head at Angela. The blushing blonde raises her hand in a nervous wave, an uneasy smile crawling across her features as he glances along her frame, telling her to have a nice rest of her day. It’s almost comical, though no laughter bubbles up from you, the easy kindness he shows her way; meanwhile, he regards you most days as though you’re no more than a pest when he’s not relentlessly flirting with you. Hot and cold, dependent on his mood on any given day. A bee to be swatted away. You suppose it’s understandable—knowing your mere presence is a reminder of the mistakes he’s made in the public eye. Huffing audibly in your mild upset, your fingers lift to wiggle in the air to wave goodbye to her as Hopper slides the tinted windows up to keep the air conditioned temperature within the vehicle, obscuring her from view.

I wonder about what you’re doing a lot these days. It’s summertime, the season of endless possibilities. Are you traveling? Maybe you’re on a beach somewhere tropical. Maybe you’re celebrating some good news. Or, maybe you’ve taken up a new hobby. Angela and I tried hot yoga last week (never again), so I suggest you stay away from that one. To be honest, and maybe it sounds silly, I just think about you a lot. With everything changing, it seems like knowing you’re out there is one thing I can rely on. Even if I haven’t met you yet.

Your fingers drop and curl around your notebook tucked within your pocketbook for safekeeping, trailing along the pages littered with words meant for the one person in the universe who will understand you better than anyone. It brings you comfort as Hopper peels away from the road and into the bustle of New York City traffic.

Outside, taxis speed in and out of lanes, regardless of bodies surging forward in intersections, heedless in pursuit of their destinations. The car jerks and thumps over numerous manholes and metal grates around street corners, Hopper’s fingers reaching across the center console to raise the volume on the radio.

One of Corroded Coffin’s songs is playing through the elaborate speaker system. There’s a spark of pride that springs to life within you. It’s not one of the newer, to be released singles—no; but there’s a sense of excitement for them, knowing how hard they’ve worked to get where they are, especially because you’ve witnessed the effort they put into their craft first hand.

Eddie seems unphased by his own voice on the radio — as if it’s a normal occurrence for him, and you suppose it is. While you’re still adjusting to your new life following alongside a public figure, he’s had some time to become acclimated. He’s experienced sold out concerts, screaming fans singing along to his songs, crowds surging forward to try and get closer to Corroded Coffin. He’s been on the receiving end of good and bad press that paints him in a caricature of himself; one that’s larger than life and not entirely accurate.

And you’re once again reminded you’re here with him because you’re his assistant when his thigh accidentally brushes yours as the car jolts over a particularly large bump, skin burning at the point of contact, seated beside him in the quiet space around you, watching as the city blurs behind your eyes.

“Remind me of what you have planned for the day,” he drawls, and you’re grateful his stare is presently focused on looking out his window and not on your face. He doesn’t capture the deep inhale, nor does he catch the slight gathering of tears on your lashes that you swat away with the pads of your fingers, brought upon by the suddenness of your change in scenery and leaving Angela.

It's as easy as breathing after that. With his cold, quiet words a distraction from the sadness swirling in your gut, you swiftly breeze through the mental list you woke with. You remind him you’ll arrive on schedule at six, where you’ll get on the tour bus around seven after having a meeting and breakfast with Murray and the rest of the band. After that it’s a two and a half hour drive into Philly. It gives you all enough time to get situated once in the city and for the band to relax a bit to get into the proper headspace before getting ready for their soundcheck in preparation for the first concert scheduled later in the evening.

You tamper down and try to hide the thrill of excitement that buzzes in your veins at the prospect of seeing the guys all perform together. It’s been one thing watching them in the studio for the months they’ve been working on the album, and another all together to see the culmination of all their hard work come to fruition. However, it also brings up a new bout of anxieties over what exactly will be required of you while on the road. Thus far you’ve run errands and kept Eddie on schedule for meetings, interviews, photoshoots and other appearances. Following him across state lines and watching him on the stage, however, seems like a new, daunting task you’re hoping to tackle head on.

“Ever been to the exotic Philadelphia?” Your head jerks as the words break through the silence, those dark eyebrows of his furrowing in confusion when your mouth opens and closes, no words falling freely from your lips. “I’ll take that as a no.”

You swallow thickly, pushing aside the indignation that burns and builds at his words. His inked fingers reach up to grasp the sunglasses perched on his nose, sliding them down slowly to fold them away beside his thigh. You’re no stranger to Eddie’s features at this point. Those amber eyes of his, emotive and magnetic, immediately capture your attention. You regard him carefully, just as he is you, his gaze trailing your features in a slow perusal. When you finally speak, it’s a soft utterance of, “I haven’t really ventured too far out of New York.”

He chuckles gleefully, mouth drawn upward enough where your eyes catch on the dimple in his cheek. He’d be prettier, you think, if he scowled less. Like this he’s vibrant and bright, and appears much younger than his twenty nine years. For a moment you wonder what he was like before all the fame, before the party lifestyle, before the allure of the industry sunk its greedy teeth into him and spat him right back out. His head shifts toward the streets, and your eyes drop down to your lap, fingers toying with a frayed edge on your pocketbook. You hear him then, voice a husk of, “Looks like it’s time for my little worker bee to finally leave the hive.”

My first stop is Philadelphia. I’ll definitely be sure to take a bunch of pictures to share with you someday! I’d like to try and draw a bit too while I'm gone, but who knows. I haven’t really had much time for that lately with the new job. If I create anything worth keeping, I’ll definitely save it so I can show it to you.

You offer him an easy smile, returning your gaze to the world outside the vehicle, exhaling deeply when Hopper pulls up into a parking garage. He mutters briefly that he needs to go check on the tour bus and leaves the two of you to your own devices. You can hear the echoes of voices closer to the tour bus, whoops and calls from the other band members reach your ears through the softly parted window as they catch sight of Eddie’s vehicle. Vaguely, you even catch the utterance of your name in the midst, teasing in nature, urging the two of you outside.

Before you can even say a word, Eddie’s opening his passenger side door and getting out of the car, leaving you behind with your things. Exhaling deeply, you move to open your own side and nearly fall out when the man in question tugs the door open and extends a hand in your direction. There’s a brief clash of stares while your eyes drift from his to his palm, uncertain as to what he’s doing.

Unamused, Eddie huffs out, reluctantly explaining, “So you don’t bust your ass like you did your first day working for me.” His eyes drop to your largely inconvenient heels. You’d only worn them because you weren’t sure what one would wear before heading off on a concert tour. Noting your apprehension, he continues, “Bee, I’m not going to pull my hand away at the last second. I can be a gentleman, you know?”

You snort, wrinkling your nose. “I didn’t doubt it.” It’s not the fullness of truth, but you suppose for your client, it’s better to abstain from telling him that most days he is quite determinately, or at least it seems that way, driving you to the brink of hysteria. It’s probably also best to not remind him how not very long ago, before you hired him another maid you insisted he keep this time, he would make you clean his brownstone top to bottom. A task that also included tending to his clothing and highly suspect underwear on more than one occasion.

Deciding to appease him, you envelop his palm within your own and allow him to help you down onto the concrete below. Your feet wobble a bit from the drop, but he’s there with a gentle hand at your bicep to steady you, before the moment fizzles and he pulls away all together. You walk side by side, though not together, to join the rest of the band where they stand in an excited huddle around the tour bus.

Even the vehicle itself is larger than you anticipated. It looms above you, imposing and impressive, signifying the success the group has seen in the time they’ve been in the media spotlight. You have little opportunity to think about it, however, because the boys greet you with warm welcomes and hellos, trading their normal handshakes they’ve given you for hugs. A recent development, brought about merely by spending as much time with them over the months as you have. Jeff in particular lingers a little longer just as Murray calls the band into a circle for a meeting, muttering a “Happy you’re here,” before rejoining with the rest of his band mates.

You’re not left alone long in that parking garage, luckily enough. Steve’s there to urge you off to the side when he pulls up in his car. He’s a little worse for wear, acknowledging his lateness with a wave to the guys and a pleading look shot your way. He requests you follow him, putting yourself out of earshot from the rest of the men. For a brief moment, you worry you’ve done something to muddle your position. Stomach dropping at the thought you might have unintentionally said the wrong thing to Eddie, a vendor — maybe even Robin, but that fear is quelled immediately when Steve clears his throat, his hand coming to cup around the back of his neck, kneading the muscle beneath his fingertips.

“Look, you’re doing great. I’ve told you more times than I can count on two hands how grateful I am you’re here and everything, but I need you to know that the Eddie you’ve seen thus far is nothing like Eddie on tour. He’s — ”

Your mouth opens briefly to ask what his meaning is behind the clear warning, just as Eddie appears out of the blue and claps Steve on the shoulder, chuckling brightly as he asks, “Ready to go, Bee?” He looks to you imploringly, and you haltingly meet his stare before shifting back to Steve’s kind features. He tips his head, dismissing you, and you join at Eddie’s side, following him in the direction of the vehicle. Murray shoots Eddie a stern look as the two of you walk along by, your eyes darting to the Corroded Coffin logo stretched across the entirety of the exterior. “Here is your home for the next few months.”

You’re uncertain as to what you might expect. You’ve never been on a tour bus before. The closest thing you can attribute it to is a coach bus for a school field trip back in your early education days. What greets you as Eddie turns back to extend a hand once more and assist you in climbing up onto the first step is greater than anything your mind might have conjured.

He’s not kidding by his assessment that the bus will quite literally be your home for the duration of the tour. At the head of the impressive vehicle belies Hopper’s station, full of buttons and displays you’ve never seen before, and a dashboard with a hanging Corroded Coffin logo dangling from his rear view mirror. The burly man raises his hand in a wave as you and Eddie pass, heading into the lounge area that follows immediately. Your eyes are drawn to dark red couches, like that of a red wine, with black pillows strewn about. Nestled in front of the couch is a table pressed against the corner wall, new magazines displaying photos of the band and a headline that details the upcoming tour.

Deeper into the vehicle is the adjoining kitchen, all in the same color scheme of dark black furniture, with red and silver accented bits. Eddie shows you around the space, opening the fridge for emphasis, showing you how to use the different amenities, before moving on down to point out the bathroom. Lastly, you’re brought into the bedrooms. Or rather, one spacious room lined with bunk beds on either side of the bus.

“Normally I like being on top, but when it comes to sleeping I prefer the bottom." Eddie says suggestively, gesturing to the bed on his right. Your head shifts his way, taking in the little alcove he’ll be sleeping in for the night. He waves his hand to your left, smirking. “That’ll be yours. In case of an emergency.”

“In case of an emergency,” you repeat slowly, placing your pocketbook down on your assigned bed as you settle down beside it, positioned specifically across from Eddie’s in the event he requires you for anything. You quickly reach inside and jot down a few sentences in the unfinished letter, affixing a bright floral sticker to one of the corners.

I have to go. We’re about to leave, but I just wanted to let you know what I’m up to. I’ll talk to you soon. Wouldn’t it be fun if we met in Philly?

As you shut your notebook, you realize you never heard the rest of Steve’s harrowing warning. I need you to know that the Eddie you’ve seen thus far is nothing like Eddie on tour. Your eyes narrow in piqued curiosity as you take in Eddie, that now familiar lanky form of his flopping down against his own mattress. He nods his head in your direction and you wave back numbly.

You hear it then. That soft howling in the distance, a creeping sense of something looming with no name to place on it.

You offer him a soft smile, and he throws a pillow over his head, settling down to nap.

Steve’s warning is suddenly very far away from your mind.

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harlowsbby · 11 months

Text

Fun & Games 💘

Requested, leaving a hickey on Jack’s neck even though he has an important event to attend.

“Alright, alright baby I love you but I’m almost certain I won’t have any skin left if you keep sucking on my neck.” Jack joked as you pulled away to admire your work.

“Hmm you weren’t saying that a few minutes ago.. last time I remember you were groaning and moaning all in my ear.” You smirked as his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.

“Whatever, let’s not act like you weren’t doing the same.” He laughed.

“How bad is it though? You know the guys will clown me all day if I pull up with a hickey.”

Jack had to meet up with the guys in a few hours to go over a few last minute things for tour and the last thing he wanted to happen was for them to laugh and joke about him having a hickey on his neck.

Even though they were all grown he just knew they couldn’t resist the urge to make fun of him.

Based off the shock expression that was displayed on your face and the way you covered your mouth to hide your laughter, Jack already knew it was bad.

“Babe.” He whined softly and tossed his head back in frustration. “I told you to be careful now I’m going to have to deal with this all day.” He huffed.

You rolled your eyes and removed yourself from his embrace. “Where are you going?” He stated as you walked out the bedroom door.

“I’m going to go freeze a spoon and then put it on your neck.” He was even more confused both his eyebrows scrunched together.

“A frozen spoon? What is that gonna do?”

“I’m not sure but I seen on tik tok if you freeze a spoon and place it on your hickey it’s supposedly suppose to help.” You shrugged your shoulders and went to freeze the spoon.

After a few minutes of letting the spoon sit in the freezer you took it out and placed it on Jack’s neck to which he jumped back due to the coldness.

“Stop acting like a baby and let me see.”

You placed the spoon back on but there was no luck the hickey was still very much there.

“What am I going to do now? I can’t go meet up with them like this.” He groaned once more.

“Are you ashamed or something?” You pouted and his eyes widened. “I’m not baby I just it isn’t really prefessiona-.” He stopped talking when your lips started to quiver.

You tended to act like you were upset with Jack at times even if you weren’t just so you could get your way.

“It’s fine it’ll be fine hopefully they won’t notice. I’ll see you later okay?” He placed a kiss on your lips before leaving.

You smirked. “Works every time.” You laughed and went to catch up on some shows while Jack tried to prepare himself for what was to come.

Little time skip.

“Jack, what’s that on your neck man?” Ace asked the minute Jack walked into the studio.

“It’s nothing why are you even looking at my neck.” Jack asked and pulled the two strings of his hoodie to try and cover his neck.

“Why are you acting so strange?” 2fo asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not acting strange you’re all acting strange.” He quickly stated and turned his head a bit to see all the guys looking directly at him.

“How are we acting strange? You’re the one wearing a hoodie indoors and earlier when I called you, you weren’t trying to show your face.”

“Right, what’s going on with you?” Urban added on.

Clay watched as Jack fidgeted in his seat there was only one other time Jack acted this way and that’s when he was trying to hide a hickey from Maggie back in High School.

A knowing smirk pulled at the corners of Clay’s mouth.

“You have a hickey don’t you?” Everyone in the room stopped questioning Jack as Clay spoke.

“Dude, did Y/N leave a hickey on your neck?”

Ace laughed and sure enough Jack removed the hood from his head and turned to the guys and sure enough right below his earlobe was a big fat hickey.

“Damn!!” All the guys yelled out. “Y/N must be half vampire or some shit.” Ace laughed along with everyone else.

“Honestly because damn that shit is huge.” Urban laughed and went to take a picture of Jack’s neck.

“Not too much on my girl alright ima wear her hickey proudly.” He stated which resulted in everyone laughing at him again.

“Yeah come on let’s not act like you all didn’t have any at one point.” Nemo stepped in to break it up and to defend Jack.

“You do you Jack but we’re not letting this go.” Ace said and sadly he meant that.

The entire day was filled with the guys clowning and teasing Jack, but he didn’t dare or paid them any mind.

He was in a healthy and beautiful relationship and that’s all that mattered.

(I hope you enjoy anon! and everyone else 💘)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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derfpossessions · 7 months

Text

Rented You Out - Part 5

Previously…

Denholm and Markus were on their way to their client when they discovered a bodysuit of a man who disappeared a year ago. They decided to keep the suit and see what happened to the man and how he ended up being a lifeless suit in a box from a strange janitor.

—————

“So, what are we gonna do with him?” Markus said.

“I think I should wear him.” Denholm said.

“What?? But.. that wouldn’t make sense.. A suit cannot wear another one! You might risk yourself getting hurt!”

“But I’m not fully a suit! I want to live this man’s life to give it proper closure!” Denholm argued and grabbed the suit’s legs.

“Well.. here goes nothing.” He starts putting on the suit by opening the back zipper. There, the deflated biceps of the guy became chiseled, the veins in his arms bulged out, and the legs became more bolder. As he puts on the mask, his chest started puffing out, and the perfect jawline appeared out of the face.

Sweating, he pants and turns around to Markus, and Markus was in awe.

“Did it.. did it worked?” Denholm said in a new sexy Vietnamese accent.

“Damn your voice… it’s so baritone and suave!!” Markus’ sex drive was driving him insane.

“Well he is ripped. I’m sure he spent a lot of time building this perfect bod.” Denholm said as he looked at himself in the mirror. His now black hair, brown eyes, piercings and earrings, and tattoos gleamed out.

“Ok then, you do what you gonna do to that body, I’ll just take over your student council duties for today.” Markus said as he left.

“What’s this?” Denholm noticed Markus dropped a bag with panties in it.

“But I thought he was gay…” He added while looking confused.

Denholm scourged through the guy’s memories to see what his past life had looked like. His name was Vince Long, a Vietnamese-American who was born from a wealthy family, and an alumni from the same high school as him. Vince was a top-tier student with straight-As, and to top it off, he had a hot girlfriend. They were the perfect couple, and the happiest one, until Vince suddenly disappeared.

One night after their 2nd year anniversary, Vince and his girlfriend Aurora left the restaurant at night to head home, when suddenly a white van appeared from the dark and took Vince and Aurora in. To her surprise, Aurora was spared by the men and left alone, she was left scarred and in pain to this day.

As for what happened with Vince next, Denholm couldn’t dig into any more memories, as the load must have stopped once he was turned into a full bodysuit.

“Could Aurora been also spared and left as a half-bodysuit like me?”, Denholm questioned as he looked through the pictures in Vince’s home.

It’s been a year since Vince’s disappearance , and his flat has been maintained by his family’s staff in honor of him. Denholm puts down his bag on Vince’s bed and looks in the mirror.

“You know what… maybe I should have a little bit of fun first”, Denholm says as he takes off his shirt and starts squeezing Vince’s hardening cock.

“Oohh… haven’t tried this in a while to be honest..” Denholm whispers as Vince’s sexy deep tones come out of his mouth.

“Ahh yes.. I’m Vince the engineer.. come here baby.. the fuckboy’s gonna unleash all his cum to you..” Denholm was shocked that even the way he speaks resembled very closely to Vince’s. The months long abandoned bedroom of Vince has been blessed not by holy water, but with his fresh loaded cum that hasn’t been released since 2022. Denholm lies down in bed in satisfaction as he tastes Vince’s long-expired cum.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. Denholm got dressed and answered it, and to his surprise, it was Vince’s parents, Mr and Mrs Long waiting for him. They held tight his son while they burst into tears.

“We’ve looked for you everywhere! We miss you so much!” Mrs Long said as she hugged her son.

The parents took him back to their family mansion where they had a Thanksgiving Prayer with a reading on the Prodigal Son, to celebrate’s Vince’s homecoming.

Then, Denholm filed an official statement regarding Vince’s kidnapping to help solve the people responsible for the his kidnapping and the others as well. A joint investigation took place while Denholm gave the police more details about a “bodysuit factory”.

After the party was over, Denholm went home to Vince’s place, where he saw Aurora.

“Babe… babe is that you?!?” Aurora started tearing up and ran up to him.

“I missed you so much…” ‘Vince’ said in shock while he hugged his girlfriend.

The two shared a romantic kiss and embraced each other with the reunion. For Denholm it felt like he gave Vince the closure he needed, but he cannot live as Vince forever.

Aurora made the next move. She dragged Vince up the stairs and the two started undressing.

Excited, Aurora undresses herself and undresses Vince’s long sleeve, and his tank top.

He revealed his white Calvin Klein boxers while his cock barks back at her as he starts to get very horny.

“This is… wrong.” Denholm whispered as he started grabbing the sheets. “Babe.. what do you mean? I missed you so much!!” Aurora was biting her lips.

“Your breath… your armpit hairs… your leg hairs… your Amazon rainforest in your cock… every single inch of you I am craving right now.” Aurora was starting up the engine.

“Oh I miss doing this.” Aurora said while she touches Vince’s abs. “Babe.. maybe we should slow down.” Vince tried resisting. “Oh fuck this. give me that!” Aurora ripped his boxers wide and revealed the arching cock that she’s been craving for.

Aurora then starts teasing his manhood until it did a standing ovation. They then started kissing mouth to mouth and rolled on the bed, knocking over the bed sheets.

Vince’s mouth started watering as he grabbed Aurora’s breasts to drink her milkshake. He gave her clitties a blessful kiss, and he started inserting it in. The hole kept declining though, like a debit card refusing to be read by an ATM.

She then licked his ass, with the expired butt hairs electrifying out like that one Nair video.

“Why not repair my ass? Civil engineering? Fuck that.. engineer this pussy.” She started cracking up.

“What the fuck is this woman on?” Vince started to get so scared. She then resisted him pulling away and she bited his pecs. He screamed faintly like a little girl but felt delighted and rubbed her back again.

“You know what…? Let me fold you like a fucking pretzel.” Vince grinned. She screamed out loud as he bent her back and put the funnel into the bottle opening. She screamed and screamed and screamed. They were both suffocating in each other’s saliva, cum and seemingly piss. They were banging the walls and even squeezed themselves in the closet. She was freaking out as he chased him down the halls, both naked.

They Netflix and chilled, he pulled her many times to kiss her, and she rubbed his pubic hairs like petting their Shih Tzu Tracy. It was a very immaculate and blessed moment.

They did various poses! Doggy, cowboy, missionary, and our favorite, 69. They did it and did it until they got sweaty and started panting.

Aurora slurps out Vince’s loaded manhood like she’s slurping out a big bowl of ramen. She giggles as his load explodes out of her face, and she kneels down as he starts inserting his rubbery dick into her rubbery pussy. (Hold on… rubbery pussy..?, We’ll get there later on.)

Vince was making sure the zipper at the back of his neck wasn’t opening out as he exerts extra pressure against Aurora in bed. They both giggle as Aurora licks Vince’s smooth sweaty abs and she starts biting them. Vince screamed out but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected, it felt like he got bit by a dog while wearing a silicone rubber pants.

“Let’s do it again.” Aurora said while running out of breath. They initiated their sacred rituals again and again throughout the whole night. Fuck me ‘til up daylight indeed.

As Vince and Aurora finally covered themselves under the sheets, they both rest and as they cuddle each other, not knowing something behind there was opening up. Let me turn it into a saying, Don’t leave the fridge open at night.

Both drenched in sweat, Vince goes to the bathroom to get toilet paper to clean up the exploded fluids in his room. But something was wrong. The zipper opened a little bit, and was stuck.

Aurora then discovered this and just stood there as if she knew this whole time that he was a bodysuit.

“Babe.. it’s not what it looks like.. I promise.” Vince was in shock and started shaking.

“I- um.. I no… no..” Aurora was also nervous. she turned around to look away, but then it was another jaw-dropping moment: her zipper was also opened, she thought it wouldn’t get exposed but the bra she had just put on wasn’t enough to conceal it.

“What…?? WHAT?!?” Vince tried grabbing Aurora’s arm but she ran as fast as she could and fled the scene.

Denholm chased her down to the garage, but the bodysuit was starting to melt as the zipper had been exposed. He tried unzipping himself a few more tries, and managed to get out of Vince’s body.

Denholm now ran to the garage door but Aurora had locked it. Denholm tried breaking in, using everything he had on the house to reach the inside.

Denholm figured out that he could simply open the front garage doors and catch her in the act, so he pushed the button and the front garage lifted upward and he rushed inside, but it wasn’t what he was expecting, never at all expected what it was.

He took a step closer but to his surprise, Markus was there, seemingly apprehending the now-empty Aurora suit.

“Markus what the fuck are you doing here?!??” Denholm freaked out.

“I.. I don’t know! I just found this body snatcher somewhere and I followed her to this home! I didn’t know this was your bodysuit’s home!” Markus said.

“Dang it. FUCKKKKK!!!!!” Denholm let out a very loud scream as he started kicking the nearby objects. He was angry. He was FURIOUS.

“I think this suit is also like you, Denholm. I think she was also spared because she’s not hollow right now, she has a pulse.” Markus said.

“Well we better drive her home safely then. I’ll also take home Vince and keep it in our property.” Denholm said as he started the car to head home.

As he headed out, a nervous grin and a blush came out of Markus.

“I wonder if he’ll ever know…”

(17 Hours earlier…)

Aurora: “Yes, yes that would be 45.99 for the jeans.”

Customer: “Ok, I’m paying by credit. I really love your local boutique!”

Aurora: “Thank for you shopping here! This boutique means a lot to me as me and my late boyfriend invested a lot on it!”

Markus then walks in while wearing a face mask and sunglasses.

Aurora: Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique— AHHHHHH!!!

Aurora let out a loud scream and passed out.

Markus: Welcome.. and goodbye bitch.

Markus laughed maniacally as he lifted Aurora and unzipped her back, which transformed her into a bodysuit.

He then started sliding his legs into her more smaller ones, causing a huge stretch on the suit. Her body also expanded wide as Markus’ masculine torso squished in to fill in the void. Soon once Markus put on the mask, the suit realigned and formed itself: The legs started to shrink into a more feminine physique, and the waist significantly decreased and compressed Markus’ body. It was uncomfortable for him but it was all worth it. His new breasts also grew out to his desire. Markus looks into the store’s mirror.

“Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique!” He said in a new feminine high-pitched voice.

“Hey Vince.. hey baby… hey… Denholm.”

She said while she seductively stares into her reflection, and giggled. She packed up her stuff and left to go to Vince’s place.

— TO BE CONTINUED —

#male body possession #male bodysuit #male tf #male to female possession #mtm swap #mtf tf #male bodysuit tf #male to female bodysuit #male transformation #male muscle suit tf #male to male possession

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Reader

Synopsis: when you see your ex boyfriend in public, you ask the closet stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend

Requested by @xtom-darling-x17

Masterlist

Arvin wasn’t one to offer help to people, much less a stranger, but you had caught his eye. He stood by his car after filling his tank with gas and watched you stare at the gas pumps with a puzzled look on your face. He had seen you pull into the gas station with such confidence, but that was all gone now that you had to pick the right pump to put in your car. Arvin debated driving away and letting you figure it out by yourself since after all, he didn’t even know you. But after watching you hesitantly reaching for the diesel for the third time, he decided to speak up.

“Need help miss?” He asked as he approached you. You stiffened up at the sound of his voice and took an instinctive step away from him.

“No. I’m fine, thanks.” You replied without looking at him.

“You sure about that?” Arvin asked as he watched you hesitantly pick up the diesel pump.

“Said I don’t need any help from the likes of you, all right?” You said again. “Just leave me alone and go on your way.”

“Sorry miss. Didn’t mean to trouble you. Just noticed you was putting diesel in your car, is all.” Arvin said and raised his hands in defense.

“Diesel?” You paused and looked down at the pump in your hands.

“Yeah, darling. That right there is diesel.”

“Psh. I knew that. I like diesel.” You lied and brought the pump over to your car.

“Oh, my bad. Didn’t know that. Can I ask if you also like your car blowing up?” Arvin asked sarcastically.

“Excuse me?”

“Diesel will clog your fuel system and keep the car from startin. If you push the gas pedal too much, whole car will burst in flames. Seen it happen right in front of me once. The guy barely made it out alive.”

“Oh.” You froze and looked down at the pump in your hands.

“Could help you out, if you like.” He offered again.

“No thank you. I said I was fine.” You repeated, in a kinder tone this time. Arvin nodded and took a step back as he watched you put the diesel pump back. You looked between the other two pumps for a minute before hesitantly grabbing the one in the middle.

“Um….” You hesitatingly looked to Arvin to see if you were about to make another fatal mistake. He shook his head and held up one finger to let you know you needed pump number one. You gave him a tight smile before putting back the pump in your hand and picking up the first one. You put the pump in your car and just stood there until Arvin put his hand over yours to squeeze the pump. You felt the gas flow out and looked at Arvin with an embarrassed smile.

“Thanks.” You said quietly.

“No problem, doll.” He chuckled and felt his face flush from how close you were.

“Sorry I was short with you before. I have a hard time trusting men sometimes.” You admitted without looking into his eyes.

“Yeah? Seems we have that in common.”

“I just didn’t know if you were gonna fill my car up and then try to get me to repay you or something.”

“Repay me?”

“You know. With a kiss or something.”

“Darling, I’m no gentlemen, but I’m no villain either. I’d never try and get you to do something you didn’t want to do. Just saw a pretty lady struggling and wanted to offer my help. That’s all.” Arvin assured you, and you felt yourself believing him.

“Oh. Well thats very nice of you. Sorry I was rude.”

“No need to be sorry. Got a sister back home and I hope she’s half as vigilant as you are. Can’t trust nobody in this town. Especially not the men.” Arvin said and looked around the gas station.

“Don’t I know it.” You sighed. Arvin noticed the sadness in your voice and gave you a long look. He hadn’t seen you around before, which was strange since he thought he knew everyone in town. You were awfully pretty and the fact that you were a little mean to him made him like you even more.

“My names Arvin, by the way.” He told you.

“Y/n.” You smiled warmly at him.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He returned the smile.

“You too, Arvin. Thanks again for the lesson.” You replied. You finished pumping the gas in your car and watched as Arvin returned the pump so you would know what to do next time.

“I’m really smart, by the way.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Huh?” He laughed in surprise.

“I’m really smart. I’m a school teacher down by the church. I went to college too. And I was the top of my class.” You told him, adding something every time you thought of a different example of your intelligence.

“Is that so?” Arvin asked, still confused what point you were making.

“I’m just telling you this so you don’t think I’m some dumb damsel in distress. I’m usually very smart but my daddy used to fill my car for me and never taught me how. He said it wasn’t a lady’s job to do it.”

“Well where’s your daddy now? Cause somebody needs to stop you from blowing yourself up.” Arvin chuckled.

“He don’t speak to me no more.” You said quietly, making Arvin feel guilty for poking fun at you.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” He said sincerely.

“It’s fine. I know what to do now thanks to you.“

“It was no trouble, darling. And next time, use this pump. Stay away from the diesel.” Arvin said and tapped the correct pump.

“I will. Thank you.” You smiled at him before looking over his shoulder. Arvin watched the way your smile dropped and the color drained from your face.

“Oh shoot.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Arvin frowned and looked over his shoulder to try to find what you were looking at.

“My ex boyfriends just pulled up.” You gulped and pointed. Arvin immediately felt curious to see what kind of guy you used to date to see if he had a chance with you. When he saw a man in a red and white pinstripe shirt and white pants coming out of a flashy car, he cracked an amused smile.

“That candy ass used to be your boyfriend?” Arvin couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hush. He’ll hear you.” You whispered desperately and tugged on Arvins shirt to get him to stand in front of you.

“How come he’s dressed like a candy cane?” Arvin genuinely asked as he used his body to block you from your ex boyfriends view.

“I mean it, Arvin. Hush up.” You whispered harshly.

“Whats got you so wound up, baby doll? Did he take the breakup hard or something?”

“Truth is, he used to beat up on me.” You admitted. “It took all the strength I had to leave him. If he sees me right now, I’m scared of what he might do to get me back.”

“He beat on you?” Arvin looked over his shoulder again and felt his hands ball into fists. He found your unwillingness to be seen funny before, but was furious now. He looked at your ex with a clenched jaw and took a protective step in front of you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling all this to a stranger.” You apologized, making Arvin look at you like you were crazy. He put his hands on your shoulders and rubbed up and down to try and calm you down.

“No, no it’s okay, darling. I don’t mind the story. Just mind the characters.” Arvin assured you before giving your ex another angry look. He didn’t want to lose his temper in front of you, but the thought of this pretentious guy beating up a school teacher was making his blood boil. He could feel his face getting hotter the longer he looked at your ex and the urge to beat him up got stronger.

“I know this is a little crazy to ask, but would you mind…” You started to ask but trailed off.

“Mind what?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Never mind.” You shook your head.

“Just ask me, darling. Worst I’ll say is no.”

“Would you mind doing something to make him think we’re together? Like kissing me or something?” You whispered through an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, so now you do want me to kiss you? I thought you were mean to me because you didn’t want me to try and kiss you.” Arvin smiled teasingly. He knew the gravity of the situation and was trying to calm you down a little so you wouldn’t be freaked out.

“I know what I said before.” You rolled your eyes. “But this is important. If he thinks I got a boyfriend, he’ll leave me alone.”

“I see. And you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“Just until he’s gone.”

“I think I can manage that.” Arvin shrugged before pulling you into a kiss. He slipped and arm around your waist and pressed you against your car to kiss you, taking your breath away in the process. You didn’t feel time moving as you kissed him but did feel the fear leaving your body. After spending the last eight months thinking all love ever did was break and burn and end, you felt it begin again. When you pulled away, you looked into Arvins eyes, no longer feeling like he was a stranger.

“Well I’ll be. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you ever again, toots. What are you doing here?” Your ex asked, making you and Arvin jump in surprise. You’d been so engrossed in each other that you hadn’t heard him walk up. Arvin could feel you shaking so he tightened his grip on your waist and shifted his body weight forward in a threatening way.

“What are we doing here? At the gas station? Take a fat fucking guess, dip shit. We’re putting gas in her car.” Arvin scoffed and looked at your ex like it was ridiculous to ask. You let out a shocked laugh and turned your face to the side to try and hide it. Your ex noticed the way Arvins arm was around you and his eyes darkened.

“I’m sorry, who the hell is this?” He asked you, the anger in his voice giving you flashbacks to worse times.

“Arvin Russel. Y/n’s boyfriend. And you are?” Arvin asked and held out a hand. You could tell this bothered your ex to hear you had a new boyfriend and felt your power come back to you. His face turned white as he looked at Arvin in shock. You tightened your grip on Arvin and looked up at him with a loving smile to really sell your story.

“Chuck Greenwood.” Chuck said and hesitantly shook Arvins hand. Arvin made sure to squeeze Chucks hand hard enough to make it hurt as he shook it.

“I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.” Chuck said to you as he pulled his hand away from Arvin.

“Well I do.” You shrugged and leaned in Arvin. Chucks eyes brewed with jealousy as he watched the two of you.

“I guess I would’ve known that if you ever answered my calls. Must be too busy moving on. Which you did pretty fast, one might say. Didn’t realize you were such a quick girl.” Chuck said in a condescending tone.

“Fuck you, Chuck.” You scoffed, taking everyone by surprise.

“What did you just say to me?” Chuck raised his voice.

“Believe she said fuck you, Chuck.” Arvin repeated with a shrug.

“Yeah. I did. I don’t answer your calls cause I don’t want to hear your nasty, agitating voice no more. And I moved on fast because I knew the entire time that I was with you that I wanted something better for myself. So as soon as I got away from you, I went and found better. And you don’t get to be mad about that.” You stated. You weren’t shaking anymore but Arvin still kept his arm securely around your waist.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Chuck growled and stepped up to you.

“You.” You said and shoved him back. Chuck stumbled back in surprise before clenching his fist. Arvin got ready to fight, but you were one step ahead of him. You grabbed the diesel pump and aimed it at Chuck like it was a gun. Chuck was immediately disarmed and held up his hands.

“You don’t scare me no more. Especially not when you’re dressed like a candy cane.” You said in a low voice. Arvin smiled proudly that you used his insult and leaned against your car to watch you.

“Now get lost before I spray you.” You added and held the pump up higher. Chuck ran away from you, tripping over his own feet before getting into his car to drive away.

“Where did that come from?” Arvin laughed in surprise once you were alone again.

“I have no idea. But it felt really good.” You smiled in excitement as you put the pump back.

“I bet it did. I’m proud of you, darlin. I hope you’re proud of yourself too.” Arvin smiled fondly at you.

“You know, I am. Thanks for your help, Arvin. I couldn’t have done that without you.”

“You’re very welcome, miss. But I think you could’ve gotten along without me just fine. What’s the story with him anyway?”

“He works at the mechanic shop my daddy owns. I don’t have any brothers so Chuck was like a son to him. Was even gonna pass down the family business to him. When I finally told my parents how he’d been treating me…”

“They took his side?” Arvin asked, hoping the answer was no. Instead, you gave him a sad smile and nodded your head.

“My parents said all men were like that. Told me to suck it up and marry him anyway so that we’d have someone to give the family business to once my daddy was gone.”

“I’m sorry, darling. That’s no fair. No fair at all.”

“I know. And that wasn’t even the end of it. When I told my daddy I broke up with Chuck, he told me he never wanted to see me again. Haven’t spoken to him since.” You said with a sad shrug. Arvin frowned and felt the urge to pull you into a hug and tell you everything would be okay. Since you were still pretty much strangers, he just put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“My daddy wasn’t a good man either. I know it hurts.” He said in a soft tone. You looked into Arvins eyes and could tell this was not an emotion he was used to exhibiting. You gave him an appreciative smile and put your hand over his.

“Something else we have in common then.” You smiled coyly.

“Maybe we should go out sometime. You know, see what else we have in common.” Arvin suggested as a blush painted his cheeks. You noticed this and felt your heart flutter in your chest. For the first time in a long time, you trusted someone new. You took a pen out of your pocketbook before taking Arvins hand and writing your number on his wrist.

“This is my number. I promise I’ll pick up.”

“I promise I’ll call.” He grinned as he read over the number.

“I should really get going. But it was very nice to meet you, Arvin.” You smiled warmly at him and unlocked your car. Arvin opened the door for you so that you could get in, convincing you further that giving him a chance was the right thing to do.

“Was nice to meet you too, doll.” Arvin smirked as he shut your car door for you. You gave him a wave and started your car before pulling away.

“Wait a minute.” Arvin called out and jogged after your car. You stopped the car and rolled down your window to look at him.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss your boyfriend goodbye?” He smiled coyly as he leaned down to your window. You playfully rolled your eyes at him before leaning out the window to kiss him. You knew it was crazy to be kissing a man you just met, even for the second time, but it felt right.

“Goodbye. I mean it this time.” You laughed and pulled away.

When you got home that night, your phone rang before you even had a chance to set your bag down. Your heart skipped a beat as you went over to answer it.

“Hello?” You said into the phone, hoping to hear Arvins voice again.

“Hey.” Arvin replied. “So am I gonna have to wait until the next time you need gas to see you or are you free tomorrow night?”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey @20fandomfangirl

@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl

@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff

@maybemona @alexxcorona113

#arvin russel fluff #arvin russell fanfiction #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin Russell fake dating #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel x you #arvin russel angst #the devil all the time #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff

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l00rem · 3 months

Text

Oh naaaaw they really went and gave him double daddy issues 💀💀

But Gibeon looks quite different to Amethio despite only being his grandad… when you compare liko and diana to amethio and gibeon it’s strange considering liko and diana resemble eachother so closely. Gibeon is more pink than purple and his hair is stylised completely differently, the outer pupil bit is shaped more triangular whilst amethio’s is just round. Also, looking even closer at gibeons eyes he has a white shine to it whilst amethio’s don’t, so has amethio actually had those depressed empty anime eyes the entire time but due to his white pupils we couldn’t tell until now? Maybe i’m just overthinking things

It’s really interesting to me how differently amethio addresses his respective familial connections. He seems to really respect Gibeon, calling him ojji-sama, meanwhile he calls his dad chichi which is generally more neutral. He seems to be trying to distance himself from who is father was too which reeks of sooo much indoctrination someone please save his poor soul. I can see quite of few explanations for his lack of connection with his father; his father potentially learned of some dark truth and left but couldn’t take amethio for some reason, his father is dead but gibeon covered it up, or amethio never actually knew his father but was told about how he abandoned explorers once he joined. I wonder if Amethio tells himself that his feelings of bitterness towards his father are because he betrayed explorers, when in reality it’s because he’s the one who feels betrayed.

Clearly there’s some reason amethio seems to have such strong loyalty towards Gibeon. They obviously don’t have a traditional bond, with Gibeon even remarking that it’s been awhile since they met like this which perhaps implies it’s been over a year since they met face to face, and yet amethio regards him so highly. And surprise surprise, the only time he cares to see his grandson face to face is when he’s asking him to continue serving his wishes, really selling himself as grandad of the year here.

This line particularly intrigues me and supports a hc i’ve been holding for awhile which is that amethio and gibeons blood line are descended from royalty of sorts. Perhaps then he intended to make rakua his kingdom, but that would mean destroying it in order to control it which lead to his subsequent falling out with Lucius.

The way he phrases this is also really interesting to me- because it subverts the usual expected ‘heir to the throne’ and instead Gibeon just says heir of his blood. Which makes sense given that Gibeon seems to be intending to live forever, so he wants to keep playing as king for all eternity. So amethio is just a means to an end, someone to do all the hard work for achieving gibeons dreams and yet reviving little from it himself.

I doubt this’ll happen but i’m gonna say it just to put it on the record- I wonder if we could potentially see this gibeon/amethio ancestor on the throne in the upcoming legends Z game? Considering Gibeon’s partner being a Zygarde and Kalos’s themes of royalty, potentially we could see the ruler that Gibeon is trying to emulate. Apart from new pokemon forms i don’t think the games have ever taken something from the anime before, but i think it’d make an interesting twist if they went that direction!

It’s pretty upsetting to see how heavily manipulated and indoctrinated Amethio is into explorers. I don’t have any doubts for his eventual redemption arc despite his yearning for power, but seeing how strong of a chokehold gibeon has on him it does make me wonder what’ll actually trigger it. A lot of people compare amethio to zuko, but for zuko he could see physical evidence of how horrible the fire nation was through going around the world and having uncle iroh to guide him whereas amethio doesn’t really have either of those (zir and conia support him, but they’re not really angels on his shoulder). Either he’ll discover a darker secret somehow and turn against them (potentially the same as his father) or maybe through his development with the rvts he’ll grow to realise how horrible explorers has treated him? (something about chosen family vs biological family). Regardless of how it happens, I just hope Amethio can be happy by the end of all of this. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll actually see him smile in a year or so.

#pokemon horizons #amethio #anipoke #pokemon amethio #pokemon horizons spoilers #pokemon gibeon #pokemon #i just want him to be happy pls anipoke

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boul3vvard · 11 months

Text

Bring your child to work day･*.:+

Sanemi AU x GN! Reader DRABBLE!

S/n = sons name

I started writing this story back in nov 2022 I abandoned it and came back to it March 2023 erased the ending and rushed it so sorry if this isn’t up to par I’m just trying to get this out of my drafts lol. Now a few pointers

★ Sanemi is OOC I just think that it would be really cute to picture him in this sorta dynamic.

★I tried to keep it gender neutral as possible this is also my first time writing a gn story so feel free to give me any possible feedback

★also as I always say this isn’t proof read AT ALL!! so there might be a ton of grammatical errors idrc HAPPY READING

There are only 3 characters who are color coded

Y/n sanemi and s/n

“Are you sure you’ll be fine taking him with you I mean he’s only 4, He won’t be too much of a distraction for you?”

y/n said while doing their sons hair making his curls pop out a little more.

“He’ll be fine we’re not doing too much in class today anyways” sanemi sighed as he was getting dressed for work. “You’ll be good for daddy right?” y/n asked s/n while looking at him in the mirror. “MMHM” s/n said happily. Y/n was a little nervous at first about this whole ordeal when sanemi brought it up but all the doubt disappeared when y/n saw how giddy their son was to spend time with sanemi this was also the first time their son is going to be around a bunch of people at once, let alone a bunch of teenagers. how will he react? “he’ll be fine plus I’m there if anything does happen, which nothing will so stop worrying, You act like we’re going to war or something” sanemi chuckled as he patted his partners shoulders. “I know I know I guess I’m just a little worried” they sighed “for nothing, we’re gonna head out inna bit I have to get to work early. where is the little guy so I can put his shoes on?” “IM RIGHT HERE DADDY” his son squealed excitedly “LOOK”. sanemi sighed, a soft smile appearing on his face. “your shoes are on the wrong feet you dork c’mere” Y/n packed everything sanemi needed for Haruto in his book bag so he wouldn’t get bored. “are you all set and ready to go?” sanemi said while picking his son up into his arms. “Have fun you two” y/n waved at the two before they left.

Sanemi got to class 1 hour early so he could prepare his classroom for the day. students started rolling in and filling in their seats, two of his students ran into his classroom one slapping the other repeatedly. “INOSUKE STOP HITTING TANJIRO FOR THE LAST TIME I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF” Inosuke gruffed as he plopped into his desk. “hey sir, who is that child sitting in your chair? if you don’t mind me asking” Tanjiro asked pointing to the child as his classmates started to quiet down since they all wanted an explanation. “He’s my son. I decided to bring him in with me today he won’t be too much of a distraction” sanemi said as he started gathering all of the papers on his desk into a neat pile. The class all became strangely quiet so he looked up to see what was wrong “yes?” He said as he quirked his eyebrow. “YOU HAVE A CHILD??” they all yelled in Unison. “FORGET ABOUT THE CHILD YOU’RE MARRIED??” Zenitsu yelled freaking out. “Is that a problem?” sanemi started to get angry. “I just feel bad for the sorry sack who decided to tie the knot with you” Inosuke said bluntly. Sanemi threw an eraser at the boys forehead. “Before we get started on today’s plan how about I let him introduce himself to you all” just before the boy was about to speak everyone zoomed in on him making him feel so small, he hid behind his daddies leg. “it’s okay remember how we practiced in the car do it exactly like that okay don’t be shy” sanemi said as he pushed him up front, everyone weirded out about how soft he got for a sec-. “h-hello my name is s/n and I’m 4 years old” he showed everyone on his fingers. All of the girls in the classroom started cooing at the young boy. “AWWW HES SO CUTE” they shouted. “thank you” s/n said blushing at his shoes, he ran back to his dad and hugged him. “You did good, now go sit down for a little bit alright daddy has to do his job okay” “okay” s/n said shyly as he ran back to sanemi’s seat.

The rest of the day went smoothly as s/n opened up throughout the day and became more talkative. During passing periods Haruto would run to the other teachers classrooms to greet them. He ran up to the first classroom and walked in. “Uhhhh mr Iguro Theres a Child standing in the door way” one of his students said confused. Iguro was about to tell the child off before he raised his eyebrows in confusion. “s/n?? What are you doing here?” “I’m with daddy today he let me come to work with him today” he basically shouted happily “I see, well im in the middle of teaching right now how about you come back later okay? “Okay see you later” on his way back to his fathers class he stopped by Uzui’s class, they were all circled around a bowl of fruit quietly drawing it on their own. “I LOVE DRAWING CAN I DRAW TOO?!” The entire class was startled by the broken silence. “s/n??, What are you doing here kid? And what a flashy way of entering a room” Tengen said smiling at the kid ear to ear “I’m here with daddy” “of course you are but where is he? “In his classroom” “well I’m kinda in the middle of a class kiddo so how about you run back to your father and I’ll catch up with you later, how does that sound” “OKAY BYE BYE” just as he was about to run off again sanemi scooped him up “there ya are punk, you can’t go running off like that especially not at my job,what if principle Ubuyashiki caught you before I did huh?” “Sorry daddy I went to go see uncle Oguro” “let’s go eat lunch y/n packed you something delicious” sanemi said “YAYYYY”.

overall he enjoyed being at work with his father and seeing what he did daily. Some of the kids would chat with him which he loved of course and even colored with him. The class fell in love with him very much only knowing him for such a short while. I liked today Do you think I can come to work with you tomorrow daddy?” “Of course you can.” Now let’s go home I’m sure y/n can’t wait to hear all about your day today”

#sanemi drabble #sanemi fluff #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi x you #hashira x reader #kimetsu sanemi #shinaguzawa genya #kny genya #demon slayer genya #tanjiro kamado #zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer inosuke #anime edit #anime art

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 1 year

Note

I have a funny idea in the Monster au, baby teeth. Mini! Yuu either injured themselves causing one or two teeth to fall, or through eating. Like baby teeth fell, and then goes, "look look my teeth fell out!! :D". While their mouth is bleeding a bit. Plus, I'd imagine MC would have the myth of the tooth fairy, and then goes "I'm gonna put my teeth under the pillow for the tooth fairy!! :D"

Twisted Wonderland Monster AU: A Visit from the Tooth Fairy

Warning: Slight blood mention! Won’t go too into details on it, but please let me know if I should tag it another way!

TA-DA!!!!! I finally finished the mini!Yuu tooth fairy fic~!!!

Ah, the age old tradition of the tooth fairy visiting to leave a quarter or a dollar under a child’s pillow in exchange for their fallen teeth (or in one funny post, $100 from the “drunk tooth fairy” 😂). I vaguely remember I once had a heart shaped pillow my mom gave me that had a little pouch on the front to put the tooth, and I’d have it set to the side and wake up to a $1-$5 bill in the pouch instead. Each tradition is different for each family, but still, innocent fun in the end!

Monsters in this AU are no stranger to losing baby teeth. It’s all part of growing up and getting their adult teeth or fangs! But while they do have fairies in Twisted Wonderland, it’s hard to say lore wise if they do have tooth fairies or have that story for kids too. For the purposes of this ask though (and cuteness), let’s say that they don’t have a tooth fairy and now these boys have to figure out how to keep the “magic” alive.

By the way…this turned out much longer than I intended, so now it’s a fic. 😅 Enjoy the older brother shenanigans!

Under a read more due to length!

///------///

“Hey, Yuu! Guess what I just picked up from the Mystery Shop? Iiiiit’s…candy~!”

“Candy! Candy, candy, candy!!”

“Hold on, Yuu. Don’t go eating too many pieces this time, or you’ll spoil your appetite for lunch again!”

“Aww, come on, Deuce, let the kid have a lil’ fun,” Ace said, plopping the small bag of treats into the toddler’s waiting palms as they grinned happily, skipping away to enjoy their spoils. “Besides, they know the rule: if their tummy is full, they don’t get any of Trey’s desserts!”

Jack frowned as he said, “You did that on purpose so you could get their slice of cake or pie, didn’t you?”

“What? Psh, no! I’m just being a good big brother to the lil’ tyke,” Ace said with a scoff. “Where’d you get an idea like that? Besides, Grim swiped their tart last time, not me!”

“Hey! It’s not my fault they weren’t allowed to eat it before their nap time!” Grim protested. “And you swiped one of their cookies when they weren’t lookin’ last week, pal!”

“Why you little-!”

“Here we go again,” Epel said with a sigh.

“Disgraceful,” Sebek said. He glanced down when Yuu came back over with their stuffed rabbit Mr. Flopsy, the basilisk sitting still as the toddler climbed up to sit on his lap. “Absconding with the food of a weak and defenseless human child…have you two no shame?”

Before the two could react, Yuu looked up at Sebek and asked, “What does ab…abd…scion…ab…”

“Abscond?” Epel supplied.

Pointing at Epel, Yuu nodded and asked, “What does that word mean, Sebby?”

“It’s what happens when Ace swipes a cherry pie from Trey’s kitchen without permission and runs away,” Jack answered instead with a slight smirk.

“Hey!”

“The point is, little human, that you should never steal what doesn’t belong to you,” Sebek said with a huff.

“Oh. Okay, big brother!” Yuu said, turning back around and starting to dig into their treats. While the first years continued to talk (or rather bicker) around them, the toddler was quietly humming a tune as they played with Mr. Flopsy’s rabbit paws, occasionally reaching into the bag to pull out a new piece of candy or two. Some were soft like marshmallows or gummies, others were hard with a crunch. As they were chewing, they noticed the strange sensation in one of their front teeth. They’d felt it before when they visited the nice dentist man with the pretty assistant lady that looked like Sebek, but they forgot what he’d said about that tooth. Another quiet crunch distracted them from the thought, a new flavor bursting in their mouth that made them smile and giggle.

Reaching into the bag for another, their hand grabbed what felt like a bumpy gumball, their hand barely able to wrap around it as they pulled it out of the bag. It was white with rainbow flecks sprinkled across the surface, Yuu contemplating only for a split second how they were going to eat it before bringing it up to their mouth and—

Crack!

“Owww!” Yuu yelped, dropping the candy and wailing in pain as their hands reached up to cover their mouth.

“Yuu! What’s wrong?!” Deuce asked.

“Ah! Don’t cry, human, you’re safe!” Sebek said, trying to figure out how to console the crying child as tears began to form in their eyes.

“What happened?!” Jack asked, immediately kneeling in front of them. “Shh…it’s okay, Yuu. Are you hurt?” Somehow, Yuu managed to give him a nod, still muffling their whimpers behind their hands. “Did you bite your tongue? Are your teeth hurting?”

Epel caught sight of the candy that had fallen and picked it up. “Hol’ on…izzat a jawbreaker?!” he gasped.

“Say what?! How did that get in there!?” Ace said, swiping the bag and beginning to dig through the contents. “I’m not seeing any others…I swear I checked the bag before I bought it! Grim, did you slip that in when I wasn’t looking?!”

“I thought it was a big gumball!” Grim yelped, looking distressed now. “It looked just like one—I didn’t know it was a jawbreaker thing!” Now near tears, he whimpered, “Now I’ve gone and hurt the human…Professor Crewel’s gonna kill me!”

“Fergit Professor Crewel—the researchers ‘re gonna tan our hides if we don’t git Yuu t’ the nurse’s office!” Epel said, his accent slipping in thicker than normal in his panic.

“Let’s go!!”

/---------/

“Don’t worry, they’re fine.”

It had been a confusing and panic-inducing five-minute sprint to the nurse’s office from the dorms, students getting bowled over or jumping out of the way of the charging first years. Even Riddle could barely yell at them to not run in the halls before Ace and Deuce shouted “Yuu’s hurt! Nurse’s office!!” in unison. Their panic was only increased tenfold when the nurse wasn’t in the infirmary, instead rushing over to the closest researcher and begging for help after explaining the situation.

So, to hear them say that the human was okay, the first years were relieved yet bewildered as they all but collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

“What even happened? I thought we broke Yuu’s jaw on accident with that jawbreaker!” Grim asked.

The researcher gave a gentle smile as she turned off the little flashlight and said, “Well, while it was unwise to give something that hard or large to a toddler to begin with, I understand it was an accident and that you meant no harm. Besides…you may have helped loosen one of their baby teeth.”

“B…baby teeth?” Deuce repeated.

“Yes, though they’re also known as primary teeth or milk teeth. From the records we’ve gathered, Yuu has already lost at least one small tooth before they arrived and has already gotten one of their adult teeth in.” Turning to the toddler, whose hands were now in their lap, the researcher said, “Sweetie, would you open your mouth and show us your pretty teeth, please?”

Looking at the first years for a moment, Yuu cooperated and opened their mouth wide.

“See this front tooth here, next to the canine?” the researcher said, using a gloved hand to reach out and gently nudge one. What should have been solid now gave way, the tooth wiggling with each nudge. “During Dr. Zigvolt’s dental exam, it was noted that the adult tooth buried in the gums beneath this tooth was beginning to push down. It likely was already starting to become loose, the candy simply sped up the process…if a little painfully, but it happens.”

“So…Yuu’s just going to lose a tooth naturally and get a new one?” Ace asked.

“That’s right. Children in monster species start losing teeth in the same order that they came in, so by our calculations, since this is the second tooth to fall out, Yuu’s front teeth came in first. It’s not so different from some of the more common monster species in Twisted Wonderland. We just need to keep an eye on it, and make sure the process goes smoothly within the next few days or so.”

“Phew…that’s a relief,” Grim said. “Ya hear that, Yuu? You’re gonna grow up big and strong like us when you get all your big human teeth!”

Yuu’s expression grew bright and cheerful as they said, “Yay! I want pretty teeth like JackJack and Sebby!”

“If you get those kind of chompers, don’t start teething on us!”

/Several Days Later/

Word spread quickly what transpired, and while most of the students had relaxed knowing that nothing was wrong, it was hard to ignore the exciting news. Sure, it was always exciting knowing that a monster child was one step closer to getting their full adult teeth, but knowing that Yuu—the only known human child in existence—was getting their own adult teeth? It was a “#riteofpassage #baby’sgrowingup #don’tknowhowtodeal” as Cater had posted on his Magicam channel.

So when the tooth finally fell out after Yuu accidentally got hit in the face by a swinging door (and lots of reassurances and boo-boo kisses were given)…

“It came out! It came out!”

“It sure did, Yuu,” Trey said, patting the small human on the head as they triumphantly held up the tooth. “That’s a pretty big one you got there!” He gave them a look and asked, “Have you been flossing your teeth like I showed you?”

“Mm…yes!” Yuu said, giving a decisive nod and grinning widely.

“Well that’s good, otherwise I’d have to cut back on the goodies I give you!” Nudging them towards the others, he said, “Why don’t you go show everyone else?”

With an excited squeak, Yuu ran over and all but launched themselves into Cater’s lap as the hippogryph laughed. “Look, look! I lost my tooth!”

“Hooray! Baby’s second tooth is gone~!” Cater said with a cheer, giving Yuu a boop on the nose before snapping a pic. “Aww…soon you’ll be too big to sit in our laps. #wheredidthetimego?”

“What are you gonna do with the tooth, Yuu?” Deuce asked.

That was when Yuu’s expression grew even more excited than before, revealing the gap in their teeth as they loudly proclaimed, “I’mma leave it for the tooth fairy!”

“Tooth…fairy?” Riddle asked in confusion.

“Tooth fairy!” Yuu repeated, oblivious to the baffled and confused looks around them as they looked at their baby tooth. “When you lose a tooth, you’re s’posed to put it under your pillow for the tooth fairy, and when you wake up—she leaves you a quarter!”

Exchanging a look, Ace asked, “And this…tooth fairy…just comes in at night and steals human teeth…for money?”

“She doesn’t steal! She trades for them,” Yuu told him. “I’mma leave mine under my pillow, and when the tooth fairy comes, you’ll see!”

“Uh…is there even such a thing as a tooth fairy?” Deuce uttered, looking thoroughly confused. He didn’t remember his mother telling him anything about a tooth fairy before…

“She’s real! She’s really real!” Yuu insisted. “She’ll come tonight!”

“Okay, okay, we believe you,” Trey said. “In the meantime, though, it’s time for breakfast. Do you want waffles or pancakes?”

“Pancakes!!” Yuu cheered.

“Alright then, let’s go. You can help me mix the batter."

“Yaaaay!!”

As the two disappeared into the kitchen, Ace couldn’t help but look at the others and ask, “So…who’s going to tell them there’s no such thing as a tooth fairy?”

“Well, maybe not here in Twisted Wonderland, anyway,” Cater said with a shrug. “But who knows? Maybe she does exist wherever the humans are now. Besides, what’s wrong with letting little kids believe in something innocent like this tooth fairy or those tooth stealing clowns?”

“Please don’t remind me of those,” Deuce uttered with a shudder.

/The Next Morning/

The gentle sunlight was streaming in through the window, landing on the slumbering toddler tucked in tight. Slowly blinking in the bright light, Yuu mumbled as they rubbed at their eyes…before sitting up with a gasp. “Tooth fairy!!” they said, giggling happily as they lifted the pillow up-

Only to find the tooth still there.

“Huh…?” they uttered in confusion, shaking the pillow to see if the coin was inside to no avail.

“Good morning, pup,” came Crewel’s voice as he entered the room. “I thought I heard you up earlier than usual. It’s time to get dressed…what are you doing?”

Yuu turned to look at him with confused eyes as they pointed at the small tooth, saying, “The tooth fairy didn’t come for my tooth!”

“Ah, I see.” He’d heard about this ‘tooth fairy’ from one of his students when they dropped the toddler off with the staff, but he didn’t quite understand the logic behind it. “You didn’t stay awake all night trying to catch this ‘tooth fairy’ now, did you?”

With that, Yuu’s head sheepishly ducked close to their shoulders. “Yes…but I had to get proof for my big brothers!” they said, reaching over to pull the Ghost Camera into their lap. “I’ll prove she’s real!”

“I’m sure you will, pup,” he told them reassuringly, giving them a pat on the head before lifting them into his arms. “Now come along. It’s time to get ready for school.”

Despite this turn of events, Yuu still held hope that the tooth fairy would come. They chattered with each of their adoptive big brothers, telling anyone who would listen about the pretty tooth fairy who traded teeth for money (a concept that Azul couldn’t quite see the merit of). Even the researchers were not immune to the child’s enthusiastic ramblings during one of their tests. By the end of the day, when they settled down for bed, they swore that tonight would be the night that she would arrive!

Yet once again, the tooth was still there when they awoke.

“She’ll come,” they said, though there was a slight hint of doubt in their voice. “She has to come…”

And still the next day, they were greeted by the same sight, the tooth seeming to mock them as they sat there staring at it. Why was it still here? Why hadn’t she come? They didn’t care about the money anymore…they just wanted to know that she was real.

It came as quite the shock when Yuu was brought to school that day, the students and staff alike worried at the unusually quiet behavior from the toddler. They hardly even played “potion-master” as enthusiastically as they usually did. So, when it came time for lunch, Yuu sat there looking glum, pushing their food around on their plate with their fork while their big brothers watched in concern.

“Hey, cheer up, chickadee!” Cater said with a smile. “The cafeteria made your favorite today. You don’t want it to get cold, do ya?”

Yuu gave a slight shrug, but otherwise didn’t seem to react much as they continued staring at their uneaten food.

“Do you want me to do the magic carpet thing again?” Kalim asked, picking up a spoon and scooping up one of the sides. “Ready? Nyeeeooom~! Brrrrr, here it comes~!”

The spoon came close to their mouth, yet Yuu didn’t accept the bite. Instead, they heaved a heavy sigh.

“Aww…that usually works,” Kalim uttered, large ears lowering sadly. “Are you not hungry? Did you have too much to eat at breakfast?”

“No. They didn’t even take the cookie I swiped from the kitchen for them this morning,” Ace said. “They always take the cookie even when they’re full.”

“Come now, little one. What’s wrong?” Lilia asked, leaning in close to try and see their face. “We can’t help if you don’t tell us.”

For a moment, Yuu glanced up at him before lowering their gaze again. Then, in a quiet voice, they uttered, “She didn’t come…”

“Who didn’t come?”

“…the tooth fairy…” Eyes growing shiny with unshed tears, Yuu mumbled, “She was supposed to come…she always comes when you lose a tooth, but…but she didn’t.” Tears began to fall now as they sniffled, their voice cracking as they said, “She’s…she’s not real…”

In that moment, the toddler began to cry, Lilia immediately scooping them into his arms and wrapping his wings around them for comfort. Yet even this didn’t seem to help as it normally did, Yuu’s heartbreaking wails causing other students to turn in concern. No one knew what to do. But before anyone could ask what they could do to soothe the child—

“Well of course she’s real, Yuu!”

“Ace? What are you doing?” Deuce hissed at him under his breath. “Now’s not the time!”

Pretending that he didn’t hear him, Ace slid over to look Yuu in the eye and said, “You said yourself that she’s real, right? So, it must be true!”

“B…but…she never came,” Yuu whimpered. “She…she doesn’t exist…”

“Well…when the sun and moon are covered by the clouds and you can’t see them, does that mean they don’t exist?” Ace asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

Sniffling, Yuu shook their head and said, “No…”

“Then why wouldn’t the tooth fairy exist too?” he continued, holding his arms out as though to indicate the whole school. “Just look at us! Did you ever think that we could exist?”

“…no?”

“And yet: here we are. We also never believed we’d ever see a human like you, and yet, here you are. To us, you are like the tooth fairy: you exist, which means so does she.” They still didn’t look too convinced, and so he asked, “Do you remember that package you were really excited to get two weeks ago? The one that Idia ordered for you online?”

“Yeah…it got lost,” Yuu replied.

“Yup. And yet it arrived a few days later than it should have, and you still got your present in the end. So, you know what? Maybe that’s what happened with the tooth fairy!”

“Huh?”

“Think about it: you’re not where you were last time when you lost your first baby tooth, right?” At Yuu’s nod, he smiled and said, “So that means she knows you lost a tooth: she just hasn’t figured out how to get to you yet. And if she’s as amazing and great as you say she is, then I’m sure she’ll be here any day now. And you know what? I’ll bet she’ll have a big stash of coins or goodies waiting for you as an apology for making you wait so long. And when she does…I want you to show me your treasure. That will prove to me that she’s real. What do you say? Will you give her more time to pull through for you?”

By now, the tears had stopped, a small, hesitant smile on their face as Yuu nodded. “Okay,” they said. “I’ll wait.”

“Great. Now…are you going to eat your lunch, or are you going to let Grim eat it all before you?” he asked, pointing at the chimera sneaking the roll off their plate.

“Nooo!” Yuu called out with a giggle, their hands reaching out to try and snatch the roll back. “Grim, that’s mine!"

“Hey, you weren’t eating it!” Grim replied, though he had a smile on his muzzle.

While the two play-fought over the food, Cater leaned in and said, “Nice one, Ace. But…what are we going to do if she doesn’t show up?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure she does,” Ace said with a sly smile.

/Later that night at Heartslabyul/

“Here you are, Yuu,” Trey said as he tucked the toddler in, fluffing their pillow before sitting next to the small bed. “Nice and comfy?”

“Uh-huh,” Yuu said with a nod, though they looked nervous. “Thank you for letting me spend the night.”

“You’re welcome, Yuu,” Riddle said with a small smile. “I was surprised that Professor Crewel agreed to let you stay in our dorm for tonight.” He held up a smaller star shaped pillow, the stitching on the fabric spelling Yuu’s name and having what looked like a small pouch on the front. “Here. Vil wanted me to give you this for your tooth.”

“Why?”

“He thought that it would be easier to present the tooth to the tooth fairy if it were in a pillow of its own. He even placed a good luck charm on it as well, just for you,” came the response as Riddle placed it close to their head. “I’ve taken the liberty of placing the tooth safely inside the little pouch here, so it should stay safe and secure until her arrival.”

“Hold up! Can’t forget Mr. Flopsy,” Ace said as he held up the stuffed yellow rabbit, tucking the toy in next to Yuu as he patted the sheets. “There we go.”

“Thank you!” Yuu said, hugging their plush friend close as Grim curled up next to them. Their smile faltered a little, and they looked nervous once more. Then, in a quiet voice, they asked, “Do…do you really think she’ll come tonight, Ace?”

“I think she will,” came the cheeky response as Ace gave them a warm smile. “After all, she is magic, and you do believe in magic, right?” When they nodded, he said, “Good. Then so long as you keep believing in her, she’ll come through for you. Okay?”

“Okay. Good night!” Yuu said, nestling in tighter under the covers with a renewed smile on their face.

“Good night, Yuu!”

When the lights shut off and Trey had settled down in his own bed, Yuu lay there staring up at the ceiling. Then, in a quiet whisper, they said, “Please be real…”

As they finally drifted off to sleep, they were unaware of the faint glow of silver-blue light beneath the doorframe…

/The Next Morning/

“Yuu! Yuu, wake up! She came! She came!”

The toddler was woken from their sleep by Grim’s excited calls, blinking blearily at the chimera before their eyes landed on the star-shaped pillow. A sharp gasp escaped at the sight before them before they called out, “Trey!! She came, she came, she came!!” The two scrambled up onto Trey’s bed and began jumping up and down, chanting, “She came! She came! She came!!!”

Grunting, Trey sat up in bed and patted around the side table for his glasses before putting them on. “Huh? Wha-? What’s going…on?” His eyes grew wide as he stared, uttering a quiet, “What…the…?”

The star shaped pillow was sitting atop a large pile stacked neatly next to their bed, filled with a myriad of plushies and sweets and treats. There were even several satchels of coins and madol scattered about the piles, including several large softball-sized crystals of various hues and colors.

“Whoa,” he uttered in disbelief. “Where did all this come from?”

“The tooth fairy! She came, just like Ace said she would!” Yuu said excitedly, hopping from his bed to theirs as they reached over to dig into their new treasure stash. They pulled out what looked like a large black and purple dragon plushie, hugging it tightly to their chest before happily saying, “She’s real! She’s really real!”

“Nyahaha~! Lookit all this loot!” Grim cheered, cackling as he started digging into the pile too. “This tooth fairy lady is awesome!”

At that, Trey couldn’t help but smile and laugh. “So she did. Why don’t you go get Ace and show him your new treasures?”

Yuu’s smile was so bright even with the gap, and they hopped off and bolted out of his room, shouting, “Ace! Deuce! Cay-Cay! Riddle! She came! She came! The tooth fairy came! Come look!”

Shaking his head, Trey uttered, “I can’t believe he managed to pull it off. Was this all from the other dorms?”

“Yeah! The Ramshackle ghosts were happy to help out. Who knew that being a ghost would be perfect for sneaking in like this?” Grim commented, tiny wings fluttering as he happily swayed with the cash in front of him. “I wonder if I can convince Yuu to buy me some tuna cans with this loot…hm?” He noticed something and reached out to pull down the star pillow. “What’s this?”

“Hm…?” There was a small piece of paper sticking out of the pouch, and when Trey pulled it out…a small silver disk fell out onto the bed. It looked like a coin, but not one that he’d ever seen before. Unfolding the small note, he blinked as the glowing letters faded, arranging themselves into a message as he read, “Thank you for your patience, little one. I am sorry I could not arrive as soon as I could. Please accept my gifts as an apology for making you wait so long.”

Both chimera and satyr exchanged a look before Yuu came bursting in again, closely followed by the others as the toddler began showing them all their new treasures. Ace—though he was smiling—had an odd look in his eyes, and Trey could see a small piece of paper hidden in his fist. When asked about it later when Yuu wasn’t around, he showed the paper that he said he’d found hiding under his pillow…along with a stack of similar looking silver coins like Yuu had gotten.

“To the ones who helped the little one believe: thank you.”

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