#plz don't mind any errors

[howdoyousleep3]

Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: 4.7K Notable Tags: Dom/Sub AU, Heavy Power Imbalance, Non-Con (from characters other than Steve and in the past, no major detail), Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Sex Trafficking, Human Trafficking, Submissive Auction, Angst With a Happy Ending, Depressive Thoughts, Depressed Bucky Barnes, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Crying, Subspace, Blowjob, Face Fucking, Orgasm Denial, Cock Cage, Size Kink, Size Difference A/N: This was originally supposed to be published in the last Kinktober I participated in under my Age Difference day. I've only read one story that was in the Dom/Sub AU and I was so taken with it, it's all I thought about as I wrote this. It's a universe where, kind of like Omegaverse, everyone has a designation of Dominant or Submissive. I didn't dive into it too heavily, but I left it totally up for my interpretation so...don't mind me lol. Compared to what I usually write, this one is kind of twisted and dark. Please read the tags and don't continue reading if it makes you uncomfy. ❤️

Read here on Ao3.

The lights in this room are much more dim than the ones in the showcase room they’ve just performed in. He feels the line of his shoulders relax at the sight, be it merely a smidgen, heart still hammering against his rib cage. His limbs continue to tremble unpleasantly, his head pounding, his hole wet and aching to the point of pain. 

He is used to this happening when he’s used without completion, climax other than his own being robbed from him, when he isn’t used for his purpose. He does as they’ve trained him though— he ignores his tender emotions and his body’s biological signs of unfulfilled submission. 

Bucky barely has half the mind to take in his surroundings, to lift his chin and glance around the room he’s quickly being shuffled into. It almost looks like a study, someone’s personal office or library. It’s deceivingly cozy with its maroon walls and moody lighting, a fireplace lit and in use on one end of the room, bookshelves lining the opposite wall. He’s slow to take in the bed in the center of the room, one that seems entirely out of place yet perfect in this setting, large and cloud-like and luxurious. 

The exhaustive ache that Bucky feels deep down to the center of his being yearns to curl up in the center of that bed like a kitten, to not be roused for hours on end. Instead he’s ordered to his knees on the rug next to it, the command settling unpleasantly on the nape of his neck like they always do. 

He looks down at himself, his nude and flushed form, eyes locking onto his hands bound and curled together in his lap, and he wonders how this is where he ended up in life. 

“Listen to me,” the handler tells him, voice unharsh yet still grating, the command one he’s forced to listen to. Bucky’s never enjoyed his designation, has rarely ever been comfortable being a Sub, but these moments are the ones he hates the most. He despises not having a choice, has a special kind of hatred for being commanded against his will, his body listening before his mind can fight against it. But he’s quick to respond, quick to mumble, “Yes, Sir,” because that’s what they’ve spent the last three months training Bucky to do. 

“You no longer belong to us,” the Dominant handler states without emotion, and even given the circumstances, relief kicks up into Bucky’s chest. “Your personal possessions are in this bag, your Dom will handle everything else once your bond is initiated. If it is initiated.” Bucky flinches. “You understand the reputation we hold here and the standards we’ve instilled in you, yes?” 

Bucky bites out another, “Yes, Sir,” before the handler is done moving purposefully around the room, coming to stand in front of Bucky. He doesn’t raise his head, just as he’s been taught.

“Good. I advise you to keep those in mind once you leave this place. You haven’t been the easiest Sub to deal with, James. I’d hate for your Dom to send you back here because you did not meet expectations. He won you fair and square with the highest bid; don’t make him regret that.” 

The severity of the situation Bucky’s been put in, the past few months, hits him in the solar plexus when he hears these words. He isn’t sure why his brain decides to catch up in this moment, why he decides to feel the weight of the past weeks here at the feet of his handler in the very last moment they’ll see each other, but he feels his chest constrict painfully. His hole aches in waves, mouth watering in preparation for what it thinks is coming, desperate, and Bucky bites back his whimper when he feels his dick wish to fill out. 

He never gets what he wants, what he needs, is always left feeling unfulfilled and purposeless. They’ve had to increase his dosage of meds they give him each day as a result of how affected he has become from touch after touch leaving him emptier and emptier. A Sub shouldn’t live like this yet here he is, having been picked up off the streets and trained to be the best of the best on such evil touches. 

He’s going to be so fucked up because of this place. 

Having been put on display in every possible way in the performance room during his shining moment, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll feel so used and hollow. Will his new Dom continue to leave him feeling so empty? Will he make Bucky do things he doesn’t want to do, use him against his will, take advantage of him and his designation? He feels so low in this moment he can’t see anything but that happening, of being owned and living this life of misery. Surely Bucky won’t survive. 

His handler doesn’t even say goodbye, doesn’t acknowledge Bucky as he leaves, and Bucky hates how much that hurts. He’s once again betrayed by his biological needs, betrayed by the intrinsic need to please and to obey, and even given the piss poor treatment they’ve put him through here, Bucky wishes his handler would leave him with more positive words, with the praise he so desperately craves. 

When he hears the door close behind the Dom, he can’t help the whimper that bubbles up and out of his mouth. 

His eyes don’t leave the floor because no one has told him he can raise his head, and even though he no longer belongs to this establishment, he can’t will his inner submissive to look up. Instead, his eyes lock onto the cage around his dick. He despises this thing. Before he was lured in with promises of a warm meal and an even warmer bed he had only heard of cock cages being utilized in either the most severe of relationships or for fun, no in between. He had never worn one until his training. 

He hates it, has tried taking it off on his own multiple times before his harshest of training had set in. He hasn’t come once during his time here, can barely remember what his own climax feels like. 

“Your pleasure no longer belongs to you, James. Your orgasms are not your own; they belong to your Dom.”

It’s ironic yet devastating to Bucky that all of this training, all of this pain, was pointless. Bucky could be a good Sub for someone, he knows it. He could give the right someone all of the things his training had brought out without the misery he’s gone through for these people. He could give his mind, body, and soul easily over to the right person. This line of thinking shifts into the only thing that brought him comfort each night; the only thing that helped him get the little sleep that he did— 

His Daddy. 

Well, hopefully his Daddy. 

If he’s the perfect man for Bucky, he’ll be his Daddy. 

And his knight in shining armor, this perfect Dom, his Daddy, would come one day to take him away from this hell. That’s what he dreamt about each night, that his Dom, strong enough for the both of them, big enough to easily cradle Bucky’s not entirely petite form close to his chest, would whisk him away from this place and give him everything he could ever need. His Dom that can teach him how to cook his favorite meals for him, his Dom that is patient, his Dom that is proud of Bucky. Every night when he needed comfort to sleep, this man would be the comfort Bucky needed to finally rest. 

Bucky wonders what his Dom is going to be like, what he’s going to look like, but most of all Bucky wonders if he is going to like Bucky. Surely he is attracted to Bucky if he got into a bidding war with someone else for Bucky, if he paid damn near a million dollars for Bucky’s bond, for his life. There is a sliver of hope that the highest bidder’s intentions are pure.

Bucky is so exhausted, right down to the bone, that he doesn’t even startle when he hears the door to the room open once more. He doesn’t lift his head, as he’s been taught, but this time he does it because of the onslaught of nerves that wrack his body. This is it, this is his new Dom, the one he’ll have for life, the one whose bond will be initiated tonight. With one last unmated deep breath, Bucky sends a wish out into the universe for his Dom to be kind, for him to show Bucky the love he’s never been given in life, to love Bucky. 

The sound of steady footsteps reach his ears at almost the same moment a sense of calm washes over Bucky’s being. It hits him in waves, drips down his spine like warm honey, a sensation so pleasurable his chest shakes with his caged sob. His nostrils fill with the scents of cinnamon and vanilla and a bonfire deep in the forest. His eyes well up with tears as he continues to look down at his hands, mind racing in disbelief at his body’s immediate reaction to his new Dom, a reaction he’s not experienced before.

Hope begins to seep into Bucky’s limbs as a pair of sleek, black boots come into view.

“James?”

Oh. 

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his next exhale comes out as a choked sob. Upon hearing that voice the hope in his body bursts, shatters, into something more fierce, something that has him responding with a quiet and thoughtless— 

“Daddy?” 

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t let his eyes leave the floor, those expensive boots. He feels his hands tremble in his lap, can almost hear them do so. He isn’t given enough time to panic about addressing his new Dom by a title that wasn’t approved by him, wasn’t given permission to use, because his Dom is responding confidently. 

“Look at me, please.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter upon hearing the gentle command in such a soothing, rich voice, and he takes a deep and shaky breath before listening like a good boy…

And immediately begins sobbing in full.

It’s the faceless man from Bucky’s dreams, he’s sure of it. He has kind ocean eyes, an otherworldly physical presence. There’s experience etched into every part of his being, from his graying hair to the wrinkles around his eyes to the calmness that sweeps off of him in waves. He smiles down at Bucky and it makes him feel like he’s the most precious creature on the planet. 

“Oh, my angel…”

This is the man that is going to save his life.

This is his Daddy. 

With his eyesight now blurry because of his tears, he doesn’t see the hand coming down before it cups his chin. There’s a strength in this grip that Bucky knows will soothe him, hold him, love him for the rest of his life. A thumb swipes at his tears, wiping them from his cheek. He can’t remember the last time he felt such comfort from another human being. Even before he was forced into this facility, through all his sexual encounters, gentleness and softness were not things he experienced. He’s almost forgotten what it’s like, to feel a reassuring touch. 

“James,” his Daddy reverently murmurs, stroking his thumb over Bucky’s trembling bottom lip. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” 

He swallows thickly, his eyes roving over his Daddy’s face, taking a few seconds to selfishly drink the older man in. His body reacts to its Dom’s presence like it knows its Daddy is finally here, its biological needs taking over all other needs, roaring to life within him. Bucky’s eyes fight to cross when he takes in the size of his Dom’s denim-clad thighs, how he fills out his cozy sweater. His Daddy’s so big. He wiggles his hips where he sits, chin in his Daddy’s big hand. 

“I’ve just…I’ve…I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” is what Bucky ends up saying quietly, sniffling, and his Dom’s smile is slow and sweet, like he enjoys Bucky’s answer. 

“I’ve been waiting for you forever, James.” 

Those words feel like pure sunlight.

But Bucky shakes his head without thought, stops himself abruptly after two shakes. He’s reminded then of his handler’s words, that he was a difficult Sub. He can’t take the risk of being anything but the best Sub. He’s already afraid to lose his Daddy; he has to be good. 

But his Dom has caught his defiance. 

“What is it, James?” 

“Nothing, Sir.” 

His Dom doesn’t miss a beat. 

“No, sweetheart— no lies, no holding back, no unspoken feelings. I always want to know what you are thinking, what your feelings are. So tell me, James. What is it?” 

Christ. Bucky can’t help but sniffle again, unable to get his tears under control. His Dom is perfect. 

“B-Bucky,” he mumbles. “I go by Bucky. I don’t…I don’t like James.” 

His Dom’s smile is warm, his fingers that squeeze around Bucky’s chin reassuring. He repeats Bucky’s name, practicing it a few times, each one sending Bucky melting further into his head and surely into the floor. 

“Of course, sweetheart— Bucky. My name is Steve,” he tells him, and Bucky’s insides warm with more of that sunlight Steve is bringing into his life. 

Steve. 

A strong name for a strong man, a name that belongs to a man that gently commands attention. It’s the perfect name, or so Bucky thinks.

“But you can call me Daddy, Bucky.’

That’s the best name, the perfect name. 

Hands still tied together in his lap, dick still in its cage, Bucky turns his head and nuzzles his cheek into his new Daddy’s palm, the warmth and sheer size of it making him lightheaded. It takes him a moment to recognize that this is the beginnings of him going under, of finding that sweet space within. He’d gotten so used to being forced there, his designation being used against him to put him under, that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be sent there willingly. 

His whimpers seem endless even to his own ears. 

“Look at that,” Steve marvels from his place above Bucky, voice the most soothing of tones, a sensation in and of itself. He allows Bucky to nuzzle his cheek further into his palm, even as Bucky gives into the urge and desire to press kisses to his fingers. Such a forgiving Dom.

“I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be everything I’ve dreamt of having all to myself.”

Bucky sobs. The emotions that one sentence brings him is enough to beg Steve to not go any further. But Bucky is selfish, he is admittedly greedy. He’s been given nothing while being here, before this. He has continuously poured from a deserted and infinitely empty cup and has been given nothing when his heart, his mind, his body demands it, needs it, in order to survive. 

“Your tears,” Steve murmurs, interjecting his own shared line of thinking. “Are they good or bad, Bucky? Please tell me.” 

A request yet a command. A tender one. One Bucky must answer, is finally willing to answer. “Both,” is what he decides to admit. 

“Both?” 

He nods his head within Steve’s grip. “Yes, Daddy. Bad because…because I am sad for my past self. That I was never given a chance to be good and then said chance was forcefully taken away from me.” Before Steve can speak to those words, Bucky quickly continues. “But good because you’re here…you’re finally here. And I…I get to be so g-good for you.” 

Steve’s exhale is heavy, laced with a sound of pleasure that settles over Bucky’s own shoulders and neck. Bucky’s dick strains against its cage, his mind slipping from himself further. 

Steve sticks his thick thumb between Bucky’s lips and Bucky nearly sobs again, hiccuping around where he purses his mouth.

“You are extraordinary,” Steve tells him and Bucky truly believes it given his reverent tone. “The moment you stepped on stage, I knew it. I’ve been coming here for years. Did they tell you that? Years, Bucky.  I’m their hardest client to please, the one they couldn’t wait to be rid of. Money is of no importance, my preferences vague. Kept telling them I’d know when to bid, when the right Sub would be coming home with me.”  

Bucky sucks on Steve’s thumb harder, grateful to have something in his mouth as his Dom showers him with praise. 

“They even told me they’d go out of their way to find someone that fit what I was looking for, that we could forgo an auction altogether. I told them no.”

His Daddy is so powerful. 

Bucky slips further into his head. 

“Never once did I question myself; I knew you were out there. And when you stepped onto that stage with those legs and that mouth and those eyes…oh, kitten— you were made for me.” 

Bucky sways forward, head dizzy with need and relief curling together, tightly wound. Steve wraps his other fingers around Bucky’s chin, holding him steady. 

“And you’re going to be the sweetest, most affectionate boy for me, aren’t you? This is everything we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, laps at Steve’s thumb and sucks it into the back of his mouth. 

“You’re going to bring us so much joy through your submission, aren’t you? You’re going to bring us the purpose we’ve been craving. Together.” 

Bucky doesn’t know how to communicate that his feelings are terribly overwhelming, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of it. The force of his emotions leave his body trembling where he kneels. If Steve’s thumb weren’t in his mouth his teeth would surely be clacking against one another with the force of his tremors. His head spins in less of the dizzy way he’s been experiencing these past weeks and more in a euphoric way he’s always dreamt it could. 

His body already trusts its Daddy, leaning towards him and into his touch, loosening up further and further. The line in his shoulders softens, the tension in his thighs diminishes. Even with Steve’s thumb in his mouth, the tightness no longer residing in his jaw is obvious. 

Even as Bucky spent his nights dreaming of this moment, weeping for this moment, he never imagined it could be this perfect. 

But then Steve is reaching for his belt buckle with his other hand, the button on his black dress pants, and Bucky wonders if he is in fact dreaming. 

“Let Daddy give you something else to suck on, sugar. You look like you need it,” Steve purrs, reaching into his now open dress pants and pulling out his cock. Weeping nearly as much as Bucky has been, Steve’s cock is impossibly thick and deliciously heavy. It has Bucky’s hips wiggling once more, his vision going blurry as he’s presented with his Daddy’s cock for the very first time. He can’t stop the onslaught of sniffles and weepy eyes as he reminds himself once more that he’s so goddamn lucky Steve waited for him. 

He opens his mouth as soon as that cock is above him, letting Steve’s thumb pop from between his lips, whining as he does so. He can smell Steve from here, his warm scent with an added muskiness to it that has Bucky unabashedly groaning, tongue out. 

And then Steve pulls his balls out too, and Bucky nearly asks to be pinched. 

“Daddy…” 

“Gimme a kiss, sweetheart. Let Daddy feel that precious mouth.”

The moment the fat head of Steve’s cock lands on his tongue, Bucky feels the closest thing to submissive bliss he’s ever felt. It’s euphoric. The taste of him, this Dom, his Daddy, blooms on his tongue, bursts through his being. The taste of his excitement, his precome, forces another ragged noise from Bucky as he sucks Steve further into his mouth, savoring every inch of him. Steve’s thunderous and drawn out groan feels like a climax to Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve exclaims through an exhale, Bucky barely tethered to the earth. “That’s it. Show Daddy how much you’ve missed him, show him how perfect you are.”

In the three months he’s been here, servicing a Dom has not once felt like this. In his time before this, his time on the streets and beyond, he’s never felt solid within his submissiveness. The stretch of his jaw, the hot slide of velvet wrapped steel on his tongue and down his throat, the feel of Steve’s large fingers sliding through his hair; it all brings him a sense of purpose he’s failed to receive all these years. 

And he can’t help but sob around his mouthful. 

“I knew it, I…fuck, I knew you were made for me, Bucky” Steve tells him, voice full of awe and dripping with lust. “I can’t wait to see how far you drop, how far I can push you. You’re gonna let Daddy push you, aren’t you? You’re gonna let him learn all about you?” 

Bucky confirms Steve’s suspicions with another loud, garbled noise around his cock, one of obvious enthusiasm. He’s dropping hard now, wants to tell his Daddy he’s barely holding on, but then Steve’s hands are moving, holding Bucky’s head in place as he pulls his hips back. 

Using Bucky. 

What little headspace Bucky has left reserved for himself is used to marvel at how easily, how purposefully, it was for Steve to step into this role as his Daddy. 

He’d give Steve the world. 

He’ll give Steve whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, all the time. 

This is his life’s purpose now, being used for his Daddy’s pleasure, serving his Daddy. Being owned by his Daddy.

He’s left with no choice but to cry. 

Bucky opens up his throat as his eyes begin to close, leaning forward on his knees, letting Steve fuck his mouth. With an easy and sharp noise, Bucky immediately knows that Steve wants his eyes open and on him. He does just that, looking up at Steve as he sticks his tongue out obediently, moaning at the fullness of his mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” Steve murmurs, voice melting down Bucky’s spine as Steve’s fingers dig into his hair. “You’re so good, you’re already so good for your Daddy. Look at you, look how much you love sucking on your Daddy’s cock. You perfect baby Sub.”

Bucky’s head grows fuzzier, his dick aching, his core aching. He slurps around Steve’s cock but it does nothing to slow the trail of spit dripping down his chin and sliding towards his neck. Steve is a dream, an absolute dream. Bucky needs a communicator, needs someone who will listen and who will talk to him, especially when it’s filthy. Bucky wants to be talked dirty to, wants to experience that side of sex, especially when it’s praise. Especially when it’s from Steve. 

Without warning, Steve kicks his hips forward, a noise akin to a growl falling from his lips, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s hair. It’s a slip of his obvious control, his inner Dom breaking through, impatient. Bucky meets him full force with his own submission, moaning around his Daddy’s cock, showing him he can take it. 

“Yeah, you know what that is, don’t you? Your Sub knows a Dom when he feels one, doesn’t he?” 

Bucky’s whine is damn near desperate. 

“You know how hard it is for your Dom not to take you right here on this fucking floor, sweetheart? Makes me feel feral, the way I want to make you mine. Mhmm, your Daddy doesn’t want that though. Your Daddy wants to take you home, take you away from this place forever. He wants to treat you right.” 

Bucky swallows around his mouthful.

He can feel Steve’s groan all the way down here, down in his toes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Steve tells him, his hands holding onto both sides of his face. He pulls his cock out of Bucky’s mouth just enough to where Bucky can only suckle on the tip of it given the restraint Steve has put him in. The connection of their eyes, the way Steve looks down at him, strikes a chord deep, deep within Bucky. 

He whimpers as he suckles on the big, swollen head of his Daddy’s cock as he listens. 

“I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give you my come, fill your pretty belly with it. I have a hunch that’s going to send you right under, which is perfect. You’re so perfect, angel.”

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then Daddy’s going to take you home. And when we get home, I’m going to give you a bath and play with your little body until you’re nice and loose and ready to take my big cock.” 

Bucky whimpers again. 

“And then I’m going to fuck your little hole until it sends you right back under, until you come all over my cock, until our bond snaps into place and we finally and officially belong to one another.” 

Oh. 

Bucky sniffles as he lets Steve use his mouth, tears trailing down his cheeks and mixing with the spit smeared on his chin. He wasn’t sure if the person who bought him would want to bond so quickly, if they’d want to bond at all. It’s been implied to him since he got here that he was too difficult of a Sub to become bonded. To hear that Steve wants to take him away from this dreadful place, to their home, in order to bond with him is a dream come true. 

It’s what begins to send him under. 

“That’s it, kitten,” Steve pants, fucking himself impossibly deep into Bucky’s mouth. “That’s it, baby. Oh, I can almost feel you slipping from me. Have you stolen my heart already? Have you tempted my bond already, Bucky?” 

Bucky’s vision begins to grow fuzzy around the edges, his mind pulling in on itself, hypnotized by the drag of Steve’s cock in and out of his mouth. In and out, in and out, in and out. Blessedly not rough, but intense and all-consuming. His jaw nearly aches at the stretch of Steve’s girth and it’s— 

It’s bliss. 

Daddy’s hands in his hair, Daddy’s cock in his mouth, Daddy’s praise in his ear, Daddy’s eyes on his face, Daddy’s come on his tongue. 

“Daddy.” 

“You’re mine now, Bucky. No one is ever going to hurt you, never again. I’ll give you everything you could ever want as a Sub and as a boy. You’ll never wish for anything now that I’m your Daddy,” Steve tells him as he shoots off down Bucky’s throat, hands in Bucky’s hair, petting him as he pumps his hips.

His Daddy’s voice is steady and strong, full of promise and love. And as he kneels there at his Daddy’s feet with Steve’s warm come settling into his belly, his Daddy’s cock still in his slack mouth, Bucky finally, finally lets himself sink.

[xhoneygirlxx]

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

-

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

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[planete777]

getting high with lando and u somehow end up on his lap and u kinda accidentally grind down on him and he moans and says that feels rlly good and ur just like yeah? and u end up riding him

I WANNA RIDE・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, getting high (as per), p in v unprotected sex (practise safe sex guys!!), semi public sex, riding, a little bit of body worship, high!lando x reader being hot (as per pt. 2)

NOTE. anon prbly wanted this as a small thought post, but i had to write a proper fic coz planete.exe 404 error: BRAINROTTING! so plz enjoy my first ever smut (sorry if it sucks i tried), and remember, don't get high!! or do wtv u please.... ok bye 🫶

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc about high!lando 🤍

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

all in the name of needed getaways, y/n and lando find themselves in the aforementioned's car, basking just behind the local park, where the sunset could perform best. clocks are just shy of 7pm, the wind a couple of degrees cooler than hours prior, and sitting in their adjacent seats with doors wide open, both lando and y/n have lit and inhaled their spliffs by second nature.

lando's beyond glad that the vehicle is out of plain sight, veiled by thick trees and bushes, because he was completely struck, dazed with not a thought in mind, and the sight would make a journalist's field day. yet, it's the thrill that keeps him flippant to all seriousness and discretion. the presence of y/n, uncaring and completely liberal in nature, gives him a second identity to just let it all go and succumb to the skewed vision and thrumming fingertips.

seats reclined by a bit, lando's foot rests just below the dashboard, y/n the same but with both instead, and lando can't feel a thing.

it's light conversation that carries the mood, punctuated by the aux that y/n has complete control over, and the rest of the world simmers away as they let the high take them before the ombres of the sky. it gets chiller, and it knocks y/n into partial sobriety slamming her side of the door shut.

"shut the door, lan', it's fucking cold now."

he groans, "nah, can't move."

he hears her sigh, mumbling a disappointed 'dickhead' beneath her breath, and he smiles before zoning out again. a few seconds of shuffling commences, then weighted friction lands so heavily on his thighs that it excavates a vehement puff of air out of him, red eyes snapping open. he can't say anything, not when y/n leans to grab the door shut and grinds on him with so much force that it has to be intentional.

lando knows he accomodated a semi throughout the whole car ride. something about seeing his best friend in her element turns him on so much that he could probably cum untouched.

but now, he feels too much, there's pressure on his dick, accompanied by warmth only y/n could emanate, and the moan that flies out of him rumbles in his chest.

"fuck, that feels good."

y/n freezes as she settles again, but then she's smirking, and no matter how more shut than open his eyes are, he can see it blatantly.

"yeah?" her voice sounds light and airy, and it runs lando mad.

"mhm." his chest is heaving up and down with a quickened velocity, and he feels far from being at the peace he was just seconds before.

the girl leans in, lips tracing along the skin of his neck with a phantom touch, and lando can feel every single inch of his resolve melt away. his hands rest on her hips, teasing a slip beneath her hoodie, and he squeezes, hard.

she goes higher, and higher, stopping at his ear, "let me ride you."

then it's all gone. composure complete in lack, his hand reaches up to her nape and slams her lips against his for a gratifying kiss. his eagerness is matched instantaneously, y/n combing her hands through lando's curls and tugging so hard that he nearly fears that some would rip out of their roots.

nothing amounts to the all encompassing sensation of y/n everywhere. her grinding turns more frantic, and he pushes her down hastily, hands crawling upon the skin of her back.

"get your dick in me, lan'," she says, with no room for more words, and he does just that, welding their lips together again as he fumbles with the knot of his joggers.

y/n finds a way to free herself of her hoodie, leaving her in nothing but her bra, and lando, pushing down to free his hard, aching dick, expresses his distaste for that.

"take it off, y/n."

she's smirking, and lando's losing it even more, "what? you're gonna suck them out here?"

he almost finds it offensive that she doesn't think he'll worship her anywhere. public be fucking damned, he'd be at her mercy whenever he could.

"and you'll fucking love it."

"damn right."

just as she unclips her bra, she grabs lando's dick, and, unprecedentedly, sheaths herself in.

everything is hot. god, he can't do anything but moan and moan again, shutting his eyes and going completely limp. it doesn't deter y/n, in fact, her wet, tight cunt squeezes and grinds upon lando's dick without mercy and the pleasure that soars through him burns and tickles.

"oh fuck fuck fuck," lando's mouth rains profanities, and as he goes to open his eyes, y/n moans and they roll back shut again. he's red all over, feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin with sweat, and the girl keeps on bouncing and grinding. he can't survive with it on, and so he yanks it off, coming skin-to-skin with y/n's naked chest.

"fuck lan'."

she can say nothing more, and neither can he, his hips thrusting upwards to meet hers. she lets out a high pitched moan, and lando's ears ring as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. they fill them so perfectly, and his mouth waters like it aches for honey, attaching it to her left nipple and sucking it like he was running mad. he's drunk off her essence, a complete goner, and y/n throws her head back as her grinds slow down.

"feels so fucking good."

she's so deep in euphoria that she's on the verge of tears, and lando decides to let himself do the work, grabbing her hips and grinding upwards frantically.

the car smells sharply of sex, humid and steaming up the windows, and y/n hazily complements the scent with a drag of weed, eyes rolling back, and mouth puffing out pouts of smoke and moans. she feels the knot tighten in her gut and her toes curl just as lando sloppily licks wet kisses up her chest and neck, then into her mouth.

the kiss is barely one, filled with clashing teeth and the exchange of sighs, but lando keeps their mouth attached, sneaking a hand into hers to steal the spliff. y/n lets him, jaw slackened and too tired to engage in the tangle of tongues either.

"fuck, i'm cumming— shit shit shit!"

"cum with me y/n, cum on my dick," lando slurs out, taking the roll into his mouth before inhaling and exhaling the white smoke. his dick spasms sporadically, sensitive and completely throbbing as he spurts right into y/n's cunt, feeling her own coat and pool at the base of his dick.

they can barey ride down their high, exhausted and completely satiated, and all y/n can do is rest her head on lando's shoulder, rubbing her hands up and down his chest as he does the same.

[witloph]

𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳

Hi everyone!! So I'm a huge ass simp for this guy! I'd love to treat you all with some of my ideas of him! I hope you all will enjoy them! ᰔᩚ

𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳

♡ Bob 100% owns the boys and grills restaurant. You can't change my mind.

♡ I also believe that he doesn't just eat people, he may eat people, or regular ol' burgers, but I believe he also eats deer, bear, beaver, and raccoon(lmao yeah I'm a country girl--).

♡ I swear this man listens to country and southern music. He also plays it in his restaurant.

♡ He also dances with you to them. Especially the romantic country songs.

♡ More than likely you met Bob at his restaurant, or when he's out for his nightly walks.

♡ If you also like eating forest animals, he's definitely making you some special meals just for you when you visit his restaurant.

♡ You're definitely his favorite customer. He hates that you don't come visit him much.

♡ Unless you start visiting more often then he's a very happy little butcher man. (🤭)

♡ He does have a sweet tooth. 🍬🍭

♡ He's more soft than he is flirty, but he does get some confident boosts at times to say you look good one day or something he likes about you randomly.

♡ A few times after talking to you he's in love with you. Wants to know more about you, as much as he can.

♡ Be warned, he gets obsessive over time, especially if you two grow into a relationship. If he catches another person even staring at you in any way he doesn't like, consider them missing.

♡ Don't worry he ain't gonna eat them. He doesn't eat trash. He's got more morales than that.

♡ I honestly think Bob didn't have a good childhood growing up, so I like to think he may have some mental health issues or illnesses. Ya'know?

♡ Bob actually gets really excited when he hears you're voice on the phone or when you two are out together. He can't get enough of you.

♡ Man will literally stop in mid killing someone to just answer your call I stg.

♡ Constantly wants your affection and attention.

♡ Bob is definitely a yandere, but not to the point he'd ever harm you, or your friends and family.

♡ Don't bring family drama or friend Dramamine to him, he'll probably go and kill them. Actually he will.

♡ Bob is definitely a cuddler. Soft as hell. 10/10 best man to get a hug from.

♡ He's also very strong too. S don't think he can't lift you up. (All you chubby cuties out there. 😉)

♡ If you ever feel sad, and he see's it. Immediately by your side, asking you wants wrong or just staying listen and holding you.

♡ If you were hurt by someone, oh lawd they ain't never gonna live to see day light again.

♡ He loves to get kisses from you. Especially on his face. Prep his face with love plz! 💕

𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳 𓏳

Welp, that's all I have for now. I hope you all enjoyed these as much as I did!

Edit: Y'all why tf didn't you tell me I had spelling errors in here! 😭 I add some more little points in this tho for y'all. 😳

[sillyscenekinblog]

Hi!!!!!!!!!!

We're the faewild system, and this is our kinblog! We're fictionkin, therian, conceptkin, placekin, and more xd

Sometimes we use typing quirks/fonts but we ALWAYS provide a translation, regardless of asked!!!!

We are mostly interested in doing:

👾 Stimboards,

👾 Moodboards

👾 sprite edits,

👾 Pokemon teams,

👾 color picked flags,

👾 and pronoun ideas!

We do requests for fictionkins, fictives, and otherkin! But any character/animal related question is cool!

Our highest kins are Error Sans, and Serial Designation V, so you'll probably see some stuff for ourselves of them :3

Here's a list of fandoms we're familiar with, we might do some stuff outside of the our fandoms, but it will take more time and it might not be as high quality as the ones from familiar fandoms:

> Omori, Yume Nikki, Murder Drones, Undertale, Underverse, The Amazing Digital Circus, Warrior Cats, Wings Of Fire, Sparklecare, The Owl House, Steven Universe, Deltarune, Sonic(Not familiar with .exe and such, just base content), and Hello Kitty!

Also, please dni if youre a fan/engage in/are:

* Alfed's playhouse,

* The Coffin Of Andy and Layley,

* radqueer

* transid

* anti MOGAI

* weird about fictives

* anti-kin

* generally rude/(not good)weird >:l

Also, plz keep in mind that we're a minor, so please don't request anything from any unsafe for minors media Xd

So yeah we'll update as needed and excited to do stuff here 👍 >w<

[arlecchno]

mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

six | the frat party

prev masterlist next

you and scaramouche arrived at viktor’s party. like any other normal parties, students were partying left and right drunk out of their minds. both you and scaramouche took this opportunity to look for clues and evidence that might lead your case forward, whilst going through some problems along the way.

warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual mentions, swearing, intoxicated people, parties, yeah you know the drill

a/n: i’m not really that fond of this chapter to be honest. i’ve been having writer’s block for the whole week now and this is all i could squeeze out of my brain 😔 and i’m really sorry for the late update! i’ll try to post more regularly once my writer’s block is over but other than that plz be patient with me 💔 happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i’ve made any mistakes!

“luna, you actually came!” viktor shouted through the blasting music. you turned around, flashing a smile at the tall man.

“yeah, i'm here alright.” you said while observing the surroundings.

the party gets crowded quick, you thought.

“and you must be...?” viktor trailed off, pointing out towards scaramouche.

“ivan.” the fake name rolls off scaramouche’s tongue easily.

“ah, yes! ivan... we have a psychology class together right? i think i've seen you there a couple times.” viktor asked, holding out a hand for scaramouche to shake.

“yeah.” scaramouche said, reluctantly shaking his hand.

viktor retracted his hand, opting to bid you two goodbye. “i actually can't hang out much since i have to greet everyone so please, make yourselves comfortable and enjoy the party!” viktor yelled through the loud music, heading to the living room to greet everyone that came.

you snorted. “well, that was pretty easy to get him off our feet. i thought it'd be a bit difficult to make him leave our sight.”

“where should we check out first?” you asked, glancing up at scaramouche.

“you've got that earpiece with you, no?”

“right here!” you pointed out to the earpiece that scaramouche gave you, hidden from your hair.

30 minutes ago

“here.”

“huh?” you looked up from your phone, staring at the earpiece that scaramouche's holding. “why do we need that for? it's just a frat party.” you furrowed your brows.

“who knows. i was planning that we'd go off on our ways and investigate, so that we can end things quicker and get out of that place.” scaramouche shrugged.

you rolled your eyes. “i think it's better that we stick together, it's easier that way.”

“no, we stick to my plan. do you realise how awful parties are? i don't want to spend a long time there.” scaramouche retorted, frowning at you.

“why is it always your way? you do know that it's a party, right? no one's gonna look at what we're doing, hell, people make out in parties yet no one bats an eye! who cares if we're sneaking around rooms. archon knows whatever are in those rooms, or whoever.” you fought back.

scaramouche groaned, bringing a hand up to his face to ease up the wrinkles on his forehead. “fine. we'll wear these earpieces, but still stick together. if anything happens that needed us to be separated, then these will be used to communicate. good?”

“i suppose that could work...” you mumbled lowly. taking the earpiece from his hand, you continued speaking. “but if we get caught and this mission fails, i'm blaming this all on you. i really don't want to handle the 2-hour-lecture from the tsaritsa.”

“we've been at this job for years! goodness, just make up an excuse. we're not gonna waste this case just because your stupid brain can't find an excuse.” scaramouche hissed, even more annoyed by your rather endless complaints.

“okay, okay, fine! whatever, i'll do what you say. can't have anything nice for once...” you muttered, heading over to your room to get ready for the party.

scaramouche hummed, looking at the earpiece place on your ear. “good, we'll get started with the kitchen. though i doubt that it's gonna be empty, most likely gonna be filled with stupid drunkards making out or something.”

“yeah keep whining dude, that's definitely gonna make this case go forward.” you said nonchalantly, already heading to the kitchen and leaving scaramouche behind.

well, scaramouche wasn't exactly lying.

the kitchen's littered with red plastic cups everywhere, and campus students hanging around drunk out of their minds, except there’s no sexual innuendos. thank the archons.

“i wasn't that wrong.” scaramouche joined after you, a dissatisfied look on his face witnessing the scene in front of him.

you pulled out a drawer to start looking out for clues and evidence to support the case. “enough chit chat, more investigating.”

and that's what you did with scaramouche the whole party.

you've been searching the current floor for around 30 minutes now, but you've found absolutely nothing. not even in the living room, the laundry room, the bathroom, the kitchen, and basically every single room there is on the first floor.

this house is humongous for a frat house, you don't even have any idea why or how viktor has it.

for the past week you've known viktor, you don't ever recall him being in any sororities of some sort. the case files even shows that viktor isn't in any fraternities and clubs either.

everything makes you go back to square one.

damn viktor and his amazingly good skills in hiding evidence.

“why can't we find anything here? this is insane. i thought we'd at least get a single hint, not a speck of dust!” you exclaimed, slouching in defeat.

scaramouche flicked your forehead. “we still have upstairs. i'd like to think that viktor shoves all the evidence upstairs before the party starts, in case people stumble upon them.”

you brought a hand up to your forehead to soothe out the spot that the short male flicked. “stop it man... let's just hope we'll actually find something there.”

yeah, you absolutely didn't.

“what the actual hell, we can't even find anything! does he really hide them in his dorm? there's got to be at least something here!” you cursed, rummaging through the drawers.

scaramouche was frustrated too, given how he's been groaning and grumbling every time he doesn't manage to find something at a certain spot.

“there aren’t even any safes or secret compartments either. i've got to say, this guy really knows his stuff.” said scaramouche, tracing his hands on the wall to look for any hidden objects.

footsteps can be heard from the outside of the room you two were currently in.

you and scaramouche both shot your heads up at the sound and darted your eyes to the shadow that can be seen from under the closed door.

someone's heading to this room.

the two of you quickly panicked, scrambling to find a hiding spot.

“what the hell! where do we hide?!” scaramouche whisper-shouted, peering through the room.

you saw the empty closet you checked a few minutes ago. without a second thought, you pulled scaramouche by the hand and shoved him and yourself inside the small closet, right before the mysterious person opened the door.

“huh, thought me heard somebody...”a male voice said, words clearly slurred.

“it's 'cause of yer drunk head, ya ass! hah, yer really wasted.” another voice popped up.

“d'ya think viktor wou’mind if we crash here t'night?”

“don't be such a fool! now get yer butt goin', viktor's gon’ kick us when he finds our asses 'ere.”

the sound of a door closing can be heard and slowly, the voices faded.

you finally exhaled—not realising that you've been holding your breath the whole time.

“good, they're gone now–” you said while turning around, stopping your sentence abruptly when you found yourself being face to face with the ravenette. your breaths fanning in each other's, and face mere centimetres from one another.

scaramouche had his eyes widened out ever since you've shoved him in the small closet, seemingly still shocked with your bold and sudden movement.

now your eyes are widened too.

“oh! um... sorry for pushing you here–”

“get the hell out!” scaramouche yelled lowly, quickly shoving you outside, the opposite of what you did to him a moment ago.

you stumbled out from the small closet, letting out yet another exhale.

curse that gremlin for shoving you with no remorse.

scaramouche stepped out a second later, brushing off the invisible dust on his shoulder.

“phew, that was a close call. glad we didn't get caught.” you sighed, turning to scaramouche.

“we didn't find anything though. we're gonna hit rock bottom if we don't get anywhere with this stupid case.”scaramouche mumbled, closing the closet door. turning back to you, he grumbled.

you shrugged. “well, to be fair, it's only been a week. we're gonna be undercover for what, two to three months? more if we're not getting anywhere, but that's highly impossible.”

“we're the greatest detectives in the precint, surely we can solve this case like any other cases we've solved. this one is just a tough one to crack i guess.” scaramouche hummed at your words.

“ugh, whatever. let's just... head downstairs before other people see us. it's bad enough we almost got caught.” he drawled out, heading towards the door.

you huffed, about to leave the room too before you caught a glimpse of something odd at the corner of the room, just right behind the door. you called over scaramouche who's already in the hallway now, in which he definitely didn't hear.

him and his stupid deaf ears, you thought. oh wait, the earpiece.

you called for scaramouche again, this time applying pressure to the earpiece in your ear so that your voice can be transferred to his earpiece.

“what?” scaramouche came back in a just second.

you pointed out to the odd thing you saw earlier. “look, it seems like something worth nothing.”

the both of you crouched down to take a closer look. you finally saw what it was.

dried blood.

“huh. and here i thought he's as clean as ever with his schemes.” you remarked, taking out your phone to take a pic.

you'll need to send it to childe later.

“i thought you checked here.” scaramouche said flatly, still looking at the dried blood on the carpeted floor.

“no i didn't, you did.” you looked at him.

“did i? or was it you?” he fought back, not wanting to lose to another banter with you.

“stop it dude. i'm not gonna argue with you in the middle of this, i'm the one who found it anyways.”

scaramouche once again grumbled in defeat.

going back downstairs was as easy as it was when you headed to the second floor. people don’t seem to care at your whereabouts at all.

students were filled to the brim in the living room, music still blasting as loud as ever at the quiet neighborhood.

“yikes, this place reeks of alcohol.” you pinched your nose with your fingers to lessen up the smell.

viktor is nowhere in sight, so that's good.

scaramouche winced at the loud music. “we should head out soon.”

you both walked over near the laundry room to get away from the mess.

“b-but! it's still so early, we should at least get a drink or two to not raise suspicions. viktor's gonna get furious of us!” you stammered.

“furious for what?” the said man suddenly appeared behind you out of nowhere, resulting in both of you and scaramouche jolting with widened eyes.

“o-oh! viktor, it's nice to see you!” you stuttered. “now how d'ya do?” you patted viktor’s shoulder, scaramouche internally cursing you for your bad acting.

“um... we've already met at the door an hour ago. but uh, i'm fine?”the brunette said questionably, confused with your sudden awkwardness.

“oh– yeah! sorry, it's the alcohol speaking. ah, this place is really blowing me up.” you fanned yourself with your hand to add on the lie, hoping that viktor buys it.

scaramouche scoffed. “yeah, sorry viktor. seems like this woman is too intoxicated. we'll be leaving soon.”

“sure, sure. i'll leave you two be. just enjoy this party while it lasts! it is your first party after all, wouldn’t want it to be disappointing now.”the tall man winked, heading to the kitchen to leave you guys alone.

“hah, intoxicated, my ass.” scaramouche chuckled, crossing his arms and looking at your clearly sober form.

“shut up! let’s just get a drink or two and head back to update this on childe.” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a clean red plastic cup and heading to where the drinks were served.

you groaned.

“archons, what time is it...” you rubbed your eyes, whilst finding your phone that's nowhere to be found.

not being able to find it with your hand, you opened your eyes.

where were you?

the unfamiliar room greets you, it's dull white walls and ceiling staring right back at your confused expression. you sat up, groaning from the pain on your back. archons, what were you even doing last night? and again, where the hell were you?

you took a moment to observe your surroundings. “where in the world am i– HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK?!” you screamed, looking at the person sleeping on the bed beside you.

the person grumbled at your loud voice and sat up from their sleeping position. “why the hell is it so loud for- WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

you both looked at each other with widened eyes, staring right at each other's souls.

it was filled with hate, confusion, or anger, you don't even know yourself.

“what are you doing here?!” you both asked, well, yelled, at the same time. you don't understand why you both ended up on the same bed and in an unknown room.

“stop copying me!” you both yelled at the same time again, dissatisfied with each other.

“what the hell, woman. why are you in bed with me?!” scaramouche screeched, seemingly as shocked as you are right now.

“excuse me, why are you asking me?! i should be the one asking! you're the man here!” you exclaimed.

you shot your eyes to each other's clothes, in fear that you did something not very appropriate with the man beside you.

thank the archons that the both of you are fully clothed.

well, scaramouche had his windbreaker thrown somewhere in the room, but other than that, you two didn't do anything. you sighed out of relief.

scaramouche groaned, pinching his forehead with his fingers. “shit. my head's killing me.”

“same here...” you mumbled, looking out to the window. it looks like it's still morning, you thought.

trying to prove that you're right, you looked for your phone once again.

“what?” asked scaramouche.

“i'm trying to find my phone but i can't find it.”

“it's over here, at this nightstand.” scaramouche said, taking your phone from his side of the nightstand and handing it over to you.

you held out a hand to take it from him. “thanks.”

checking the time, you blinked, before widening your eyes. not believing at what you’re seeing, you closed your eyes and opened them once again. it’s still the same.

1:49 pm.

“it's already afternoon?! what the hell!” you yelled, scrambling to get out of the twisted sheets. you stopped yourself when you felt the pain on your back again.

you rubbed your back, hoping that it'd ease out the sores a little. “archons, what did i even do for my back to hurt like hell...”

you tried to rack out your brain in order to find the images of last night, but you can't seem to remember a single bit.

“i think we're still at viktor's frat house.” scaramouche concluded. he was observing the room and when you look at it, it does look like one of the rooms of the ginormous house.

“huh, i thought we went home.”

“well, we clearly didn't.”

“i know that, jackass. i'm not that stupid.”

scaramouche groaned once again. “there's no use in arguing. we need to get home.”

you checked your notifications on your phone.

huh, viktor messaged me, i wonder what that’s about, you ponder.

opening the notification, you read the messages viktor sent you.

viktor

you and ivan got too drunk and crashed in the middle of the party LMAO 2:18 am

i let you guys crash at the frat house

you two looked too drunk to drive home

no worries, everyone left. it’s just the two of you

i headed back to my dorm to leave you guys be

there’s a spare key i left on the counter in the kitchen

you can give it back to me on our next class

hope you guys had fun today!

you grumbled. great, now everyone’s gonna think were crazy drunkards.

you got out of bed, body and back still aching. you tried to stand up and walk bit struggled miserably, placing your hands on the nightstand as a support.

“you okay?” scaramouche asked, looking over at your form.

“ye- yeah, i'm fine. this is nothing.” you lied, wincing at your limping body.

“you're clearly not.” he said coldly.

you heard rustling from the bed sheets and a couple of seconds later, scaramouche appeared beside you.

circling his arm over your hips and taking your arm to wrap it around his neck, scaramouche helped you walk.

“wait.” said the ravenette, walking you two over at the empty desk a few steps away to retrieve his discarded windbreaker.

he released his arm to throw the windbreaker on you, and circled his arm back around your frame.

“thanks.” you mumbled.

“anything to get us out of here.”

“you stayed the night there... together? on the same bed?” childe almost spit out his coffee from the news, both amused and shocked.

“that's really not the point here, dude.” you crossed your arms, frowning at childe through the screen.

“i don't even remember what happened last night, probably 'cause i was too drunk. you don't remember anything too, right?” you asked scaramouche, turning your head over to him.

you both were sitting on the couch in the living room and on a call with childe once again to update on what you've got yesterday.

scaramouche was hesitant to answer, only ended up shaking his head instead of straight up answering you.

you wonder what that's about.

“sure you two don't remember, i totally buy that.” childe snickered, drinking up his coffee.

you glared at childe through the screen. after a moment, you realised he's not at the precint, given how he's currently at his house office instead of the usual busy precint.

“are you not at work?” you changed the subject, raising a brow.

“ah, no, i'm taking the day off. my parents dropped off teucer, tonia and anthon at my apartment because they needed to go on a short vacation, archons knows where they're going to now.” childe paused, seeming like he was looking at the door of his office in case his younger siblings come in.

“my older siblings are too busy with their own families so the responsibility falls on me, not that i don't mind. i get to spend more time with them! which is really good since i've been really busy these days.” childe added, putting up a small smile.

“say hi to them for me.” you said softly, remembering childe’s cute younger siblings. you haven’t seen them in quite awhile.

as if on sync, the three kids barged in childe's office and ran up to him. they all climbed up onhim and looked at you over the screen, making childe suffer at the back.

“look! it's y/n! hellooo!!” teucer greeted you first, grinning up at you through the screen.

“y/n!! hi!!!” it was anthon's turn to greet you, waving his hand happily at you.

“is that sir scaramouche? he doesn't look that good...” tonia said last, peering at scaramouche's scowling face at the screen.

you stifled a laugh. sir scaramouche? he definitely made those kids call him that.

“sir scaramouche is doing so good, right, sir scaramouche?” you teased, amusement lacing your voice at the form of address the children called him. it just doesn't sound right on him at all.

scaramouche frowned, staring daggers at you. “shut up. we're supposed to be talking about the case, not talking to children.”

you pouted. “you're a party pooper. they're great kids, you just don't see it.” you whispered at him, not wanting the kids to hear your conversation with scaramouche.

“okay, okay, off you go now. i need to talk to y/n and scaramouche about work. go and play at the living room, i'll order food for you three later.” childe said, picking the three up from his lap and putting them down on the floor.

after shooing them away, childe sat back on his chair. “where were we again?”

you pulled out your phone to show the picture you took last night at the party. “this pic. you've already got it from me yesterday right?” you asked.

“i did... but it's not enough evidence. for all we know it could be viktor's own blood. we'll need the sample to get the dna, do you mind heading back there and retrieve it?”

“are you out of your mind? that man's gonna notice a small patch of his carpet is gone, you idiot!” scaramouche cursed, crossing his arms.

you ignored scaramouche’s tantrum. “can it even still be tested? that blood could've been there for over a month, it might not be able to be identified if it's been that long.”

“it's worth a try. you two could find an alternative carpet or something to cover it up, or maybe just trim the blooded carpet and sample it. i'll have it sent to the lab once it gets here.” said childe, writing some notes on his book.

well, it won't hurt to try, you guessed.

taglist; @beriiov @hopesandlegacy @cloudsandrenoswife @salamiwrites @thenightsflower @bleedingwhiteroses222 @lisiastak021 @yuuki4646

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[teyanavi22]

i hate u, i love u

Pairing: Lo’ak x Omaticaya! Reader

Warning: None…except immense heartbreak!

Plot: Your love returns but his heart belongs to another now.

Song: i hate u, i love you by gnash

NOTE: This is my work...don't copy it...plz. I also know there are probably many errors...I'll fix it later so please don't say anything. Still getting back into writing after years of not writing.

~~~

Feeling used, but I'm still missing you And I can't see the end of this Just wanna feel your kiss against my lips And now all this time is passing by But I still can't seem to tell you why It hurts me every time I see you Realize how much I need you

You missed him. His family was in danger, so you understood that he had to leave. Before he left he gave you a bracelet. He knew you couldn’t leave your family because they needed you.

“This is so you have something to remember me by. One day I will come back for you. Never forget me.” The love of your life spoke. He placed the bracelet on your wrist before giving you one last long kiss. With that he turned to leave with his family. That was the last time you saw him for months.

*Time Skip/Months later*

You were in the forest helping other women from the clan to gather crops for tonight's feast. Every day you never fail to think of the love of your life. Your heart and feelings never wavered for him. You hold strong hope that he would come back to be mated to you for life.

Others around you tried telling you to give up hope that one day he would come back or that he would still even love you. Some told you that what you guys had was a young love that was never going to last when you got older. You told them they were being ridiculous. You told me that the love you and Lo’ak had for each other was so strong that not even Eywa herself could break it.

You were happily adding some fruit to your woven basket when the idea popped into your head. You would go to Lo’ak to surprise him and move where he was so you wouldn’t have to be apart any longer. 

You explained to your family what you wanted to do. How Lo’ak was the only one you wanted and you would do whatever to be with him. Despite being sad, your family gave you their blessing and told you to be happy.

That night you got on your ikran and went to where it was rumored the Sully family where. Night and day you traveled with your heart filled with anticipation and excitement to see your love.

After many days and nights you have arrived at the Reef clan. You heard one of the members signaling a newcomer has arrived with a shell. You get off your ikran and slowly approach the villagers. They look at you with curiosity as to why you have come. You looked around to see if you could spot anyone you recognized when your eyes landed on a very familiar girl. Your best friend, Kiri.

“Kiri.” You exclaimed with excitement. Her head snapped over and her face filled with excitement. She ran to you and practically knocked you over when she took you in for a bone crushing hug.

“Oh my gosh y/n! What are you doing there?” She was excited to see you. 

“I’m here because I couldn’t stand being apart from him any longer.” You stated. Instantly her face began to fall.

“Y/N…there is something you should kno-,” Before she could finish speaking you heard someone call your name. You turned to see him.

You ran as fast as you could. Even when your lungs needed a break you couldn’t stop your legs from moving. Your mind was consumed about being in his arms.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you

“Oh Lo’ak! I missed you. You have no idea.” You exclaimed as her arms wrapped around her neck.

“I missed you too y/n.” He says with a chuckle. He pulls away from the hug and you go to kiss him but he places a hand in front of you.

“What are you doing y/n?” He says in a low whisper as he glanced around as if he was making sure no one saw. He seemed on edge and almost appalled that you had tried to place your lips upon his.

“I am kissing you silly. I missed you so much.”

That is when you noticed the girl walking up to you both. She was beautiful. She stopped when she stood next to Lo’ak. You looked in between her and Lo’ak.

“Lo’ak who is your friend?” You asked with a smile as you looked at her. She suddenly placed her hand in his to show you without words that she was more than a friend to him. You felt your breath get hitched in your throat.

“Y/N-uh some things have happened since you last saw me. Tsireya isn’t a friend. Her father’s clan took us in. During that time we got really close,” he paused for a moment as if he didn’t know how to even talk to you.

“She is my mate.” Those words instantly made your heart drop as if it was thrown to the ground and shattered like broken glass.

“Yo-Your mate.” You stuttered out. You instantly reached for the bracelet. You felt like tears were going to spill. Your legs felt weak. You felt like your ability to speak was taken away from you. You couldn’t do anything except start backing away. Tsireya looked confused. Lo’ak tried to walk forward to offer you words of comfort but you shook your head.

“Why did you even come here? You shouldn’t have.” With that you turned away with a broken heart. A part of you yearned to turn around and wish for Lo’ak to say he was pranking you. That never came. You walked away hoping you would never see him again.

I hate you, I love you I hate that I want you You want her, you need her And I'll never be her

You couldn’t go back home right away. There were supposed to be storms so Jake and Neytiri made you stay despite your protest. Even if their son hurt you they still cared and wouldn’t allow you to risk your life going back home. 

During your stay, you tried your best at avoiding Lo’ak. No matter where you went you saw them together. Word got back to Tsireya who you were but she forgave Lo’ak as he had no intention on leaving her.

You couldn’t seem to get away from them. They were everywhere. They were picking fruit while flirting with one another. They would be hugging after the feast near the bonfire. They would share kisses out in the open. What hurt the most was watching them ride ilu together. Each time you saw their displays of affection your heart ached badly.

All alone I watch you watch her Like she's the only girl you've ever seen You don't care you never did You don't give a damn about me

You knew in your heart it was time to move on. You untie the bracelet from around your wrist and drop it in the ocean. There was no need to hold on anymore. When the day of clear skies came you left quietly not saying a word, putting your love for Lo’ak Sully behind you.

You want her, you need her And I'll never be her

[regeneratedcommunity]

WATER BAPTISM IS NEVER A DOCTRINAL CHURCH PRACTICE.

This misconception have been a torment in the body of Christ,the church,this practice was introduced into the church via a wrong understanding of scriptures,when the scriptures are interpreted out of Christ. Water baptism is never a new testament church practice,where the spirit is indwelling in a man. John who was the preacher of baptism laid a total disclaimer on those practices he did,BCOS,water baptism under his ministry was only a channel to which Christ would be revealed to the world,who is gonna baptize men with the main deal,i.e,holyghost.

In john 1:31&33,John reveals the main aim of his water baptism,notice,John said he didn't know Christ. Therefore,his baptism was first,via that process God will reveal Christ to him,he will now reveal Christ to the world,and John said,this is the reason I come baptizing with water "that Christ should be made manifest". Baptism was a figure or symbol John used in teaching what the holyghost will do in a man, which is sanctification. John now says,my baptism can't santify you,Christ shall baptize you with the holyghost,that is,you can only get santification via the baptism of Christ and not water. Infact,Christ is the only one who has the legal right to baptise a man. We can notice that in john 1:19-25. Observer,after John denied he was never the Christ,in verse 25,they asked him "why do you then baptize" since you are not the Christ. You see that,even John's audiences as at that time knew it was never John's duty to baptize any man,save Christ. John's baptism was a shadow of what Christ would do. Each time you notice a shadow of something,it implies that the original image is around. I don't yet understand why in the church world today, some teachers of God's word still baptize men as a way to authenticate their salvation.

1 Corinthians 1:17

[17]For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel, not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of no effect. Christ the Power and Wisdom of God.

This passage above teaches us that our duty as new testament ministers is never to baptise but to preach the gospel. Notice,when Jesus came to John to be baptized (Mathew 3:15) John clearly told Christ "you are the one who should baptize me" observe Jesus' comments "I know,let's fulfill all righteousness" Jesus allowed John to baptize him to help the minds of john's immediate audience to believe in Christ. John typically said, "he that comes after me is mightier than me,I indeed baptize with water but "He" shall baptize you with the holyghost. And this was exactly Jesus' commentary in Acts 1:5,endorsing what he already said about him.

Baptism of the holyghost is in the gospel of Christ,the hearing of faith,that's why Jesus said "go ye into all the world and preach the gospel, baptizing them" actually there is a translational error there,the original lexicon States it like this "go ye into all the world and preach the gospel,that is, baptising them"

If Christ does not appear in your reading of the Bible,watch out,you are sitting on the error bench,trying to to jump a bullet. If Christ is not enough for you as a Christian, scrutinize the gospel you received. We are sufficient in him, haleluyah !

Plz like my page and share !!!

Blessings.

[amethystpath-writes]

Revenge of The Two Weeks (3)- that's right. We named it, folks.

Continuation of this original story.

Continued directly from here!

@tears-and-lilies @whatwhumpcomments

If anyone would lile to be added or removed from any tag lists, plz let me know! I don't mind either way!

Heed the tags.

******

The flaps of Hero's tent flapped in the wind, distracting him slightly from the task at hand. The commander was testing his strategy; he was testing all of the mens' strategy, trying to figure out who might gain his own title when he retired- if he ever retired.

Hero picked the tip of his finger up off of the map, replacing it with another finger on his other hand while he moved his first to the right side of the parchment. The commander was wanting to expand to the eastern part of the lands. Problem was the number of geological obstacles: craters, hills, ponds, and mushy swamp-like areas galore.

Sighing, Hero threw his head back. It seemed impossible. He eyed the blue flag closest to his right finger, picked it up, and threw it over the shoulder. There, he thought, Get rid of the bloody pond. If only it worked that way.

There were three blue flags, all within several hundred meters- realistically speaking- of one another. Very little room for our legions. Hero debated whether or not to fight on horseback. As great and obedient as the horses were, they were large and clumsy in close proximity. With little space, there was too much room for error. So no horses. That fixes that problem.

One yellow flag. The marshes. A big ole stretch of hard-to-walk-through mush, at least for a human. So yes to the horses. Or no? God, I don't know. The swampish lands would result in more army and artillery men's deaths than if a few horses fell into the ponds. Keep the horses. And that would allow for the use of their bows, which would presumably be an advantage.

The horses will require resting breaks. What would happen if they exhausted a bunch of them? Men would have to walk, which would exhaust them. That was better than all of the men exhausting themselves at least.

Hero bounced a fist off the table. This was so frustrating. He thought, now, maybe he wasn't cut out to serve under the commander's- and certainly not the king's- name. But he had to. Because fighting was all Hero could do. He wasn't good at anything else, but if he failed in this test of strategy, he was done for. He'd be demoted, become one of those scavengers of the army who were responsible for picking up dismembered body parts and burning them. How disgusting. How lowly. How vile.

"You kept the dagger."

Hero gritted his teeth together, jaw askew. He didn't need to turn to know who that was. "Yeah? It's my dagger. Just because you stole it from me then gave it back doesn't mean it hasn't always been mine. Of course I kept it."

The tent flaps were quiet, Hero realized. Villain must have been holding them still. It was with this information that he began reaching for his dagger, saying as a distraction of sorts, "Do you remember Grandad?"

Villain laughed. "Don't try to settle me with your old stories. I don't care about them anymore."

"You used to." Hero swallowed, adjusting the handle of his dagger until it felt just right.

Spiders crawled up his spine to the base of his skull. He spun, dagger held with the blade outward. This hadn't been his plan. First, Hero's plan had been to launch the dagger at the wooden tent post, just close enough to scare Villain. But now he was in front of him.

"Cute," his younger brother commented, and pushed Hero's wielding hand aside. "But I have my own." He hummed. "You give into me so easily. You ought not to, for your own sake. To me it's fascinating, but who knows when I might actually decide to slit your throat?" It was with this that Villain brought his own dagger to Hero's neck. "And what would you ever do to stop me? You already had the chance to both throw a blade at me and stab me with it. You've done neither."

Hero rolled his eyes. Villain was shorter than him which only aided in the harshness of the sharp dagger on his neck. His brother was pushing up at a cruel angel, one that Hero had to avoid swallowing against.

"What do you want me to tell you? You're right, okay? You're right. I have guilt and I hoped that I'd never see you again because of it. But you're alive." He took a breath. "It's up to you what you do with your life from here. You can chase me around crazily as you have been, thus driving me to continue ignoring you every chance I get. Or," Hero ventured, "we can work on reestablishing what lost relationship we had."

The knife cut in. Hero squeezed his eyes shut, let his nostrils flare. A warm trickle slid down his neck into his uniform. "You might not want to maim a trusted person of the Guard and Commander."

"Oh, I don't think that matters much." Villain cocked his head to the side, peering at the map left on the table behind Hero. "If anything, I'd replace you. The Commander likes tough boys, isn't that still right?" He sighed. "I know I overstayed my two weeks in the woods, but well..." Villain laughed. "After a wolf tore my friend and a six year old child apart before eating them, the woods actually welcomed me. I'd tell you where I stayed, but I promised the boys I wouldn't compromise them."

Hero's breath caught. "Some of them still live in the woods?" He tried to pull back, away from the blade, but Villain pushed it forward as Hero pulled back.

With a shrug, Hero's younger brother- who had been gone, presumably dead, for five years said, "Sure. Not all of them felt like returning to a place that couldn't accept them as they were. They found new families, ones that fought to keep them alive. They became brothers to one another."

"How poetic." Hero scoffed. "They should be brought back. They're not safe out in the woods."

The dagger slashed through the air, away from Hero's neck, but not straying at all from his shoulder. Hero hollered out, but Villain clamped a hand over his mouth before anyone else could hear. Not that it mattered. Like Villain said before, the worst that could happen was Hero lost his position, which Villain certainly didn't mind. Still, he wanted to torture his older brother this way for a little longer before he did anything too drastic.

"Funny," Villain spat, stance like a cobra ready to strike. "You didn't say that when you led us all to the woods before. Do you know how old the youngest was?" His voice was venom.

"Six."

"No, that's just the one who died. My friend who was also killed by the wolf was sixteen- just to give you a little perspective."

"Five, then."

"Three or four." Villain explained, "He didn't even know his own age." And then he turned to blame, "You left him in the woods. You took him away from his family, and you are the reason he's going to grow up always overexerting himself to please others, only to feel like he's never enough."

Villain bit his tongue to stop himself, but then said it anyways. "I'll be surprised if he doesn't kill himself in three or more years. He feels like a disappointment to himself, Hero, because a man he was supposed to look up to told him he wasn't enough and then sent him off into the woods- where he watched every horrific image you can think up happen."

"I don't know what you want from me!" Hero roared, and this time he finally did move to fully strike a blow on his brother. He shoved his shoulders hard enough that Villain nearly fell on his bottom.

Lucky for Villain, he was able to balance himself out before that could happen.

"I'm sorry, alright! I'm sorry that I failed the four or five of you-"

"Seven of us."

"-and that I was too cowardice to see for myself if you lived or died. I'm sorry. But I can't do anything to fix it except offer myself to you now. So that's what I'm doing, Villain. I'll be a better brother this time around. If you're looking for something, some sort of closure though...you're not going to find it another way. Because no matter how much you torture me, you'll never be satisfied knowing that I left you. That I created memory after memory with you just to leave you to packs of vicious wolves and hungry, lonesome bears.

"I fucked up, Villain, I know I did. But I can't fix it now. I was- and am still- just as scared as you were in those woods. Different scenario, but same, same hot-coaled fear. I'm sorry I wasn't as brave as I made myself sound. I wanted to be a role model to you, but I- I don't know, brother." Hero sat on a cot in the tent, put his head in his hands for a moment before looking up again.

"The Commander is a daunting man and I found myself cowering. You haven't seen him, Villain, haven't endured the training he puts us through, or the screaming he does- like we're prisoners of an enemy kingdom and not soldiers of his own. I'm not making excuses for myself; I know I was wrong. I know what I did is unforgivable, but I'm begging you, brother, please-" Hero kneeled, throwing his knees to the floor, tilted his head to the ground with eyes closed "-please try to understand."

A hand landed on Hero's soldier, but he kept his head down. He wished he would have opened them before, for a new pain bloomed in his shoulder. His mouth became gaped and he choked on the feeling, especially as it spread.

Villain twisted the dagger with a sick satisfaction. "I'll understand when you walk yourself into the woods for two weeks."

Twist. A sharp gasp. Ragged breathing.

"When you hear the deep growl of a wolf- deeper and more impactful than thunder."

Another twist. A pained holler and cry.

"When you watch the person who did everything they could to make you feel at home dies as he's immobilized by razor teeth in their leg. And when the teeth finally rip into the throat of a boy who doesn't want to die after minutes of fighting."

A plunge of the dagger. A wordless scream. A limp body- still breathing, but in so much pain that it can't even think of moving- against Villain's leg.

"When you wake up with your own bloodied fists and two piles of bones and drawn out, tattered rags beneath you- because you slept on a branch in a tree to avoid getting eaten yourself. When you spill every ounce of fluid in your body out into a creek because you're so traumatized. When you suffer the way I did...when you spend just the first week in the woods like I did, maybe then I'll try to understand."

As a finish, Villain yanked his dagger from his brother's shoulder and said, "You don't get to keep this one." He wiped the blood off on his pant-leg and walked out.

******

@badthingshappenbingo

Original Work

Knife to the Throat

[pokenimagines]

MY FAVORITE AUTHOR OPENED REQUESTS YESSSSSS!!! I saw the notification and my heart went BOOOM!!! Just like that!!!! So may I ask for some headcanons with demon!Piers x reader/s/o? I know I asked for the demon Raihan as well but you just wrote it so well (and in general) that I can't help myself :)))) completely fine if you don't want to tho!!!!! SENDING LOVE YOUR WAYYYYY!!!

Headcanons for a demon version of Piers…oh yes. Yes, I can do that. Actually, I kinda wanna write a proper drabble because hnnnnnng gimme demons plz thnx. Also, I dunno how well I wrote Piers but I mean I see demon him being a bit cockier? BTW this is unedited because I’m far too tired to read it over, so please forgive any grammatical errors!

Discord - Request Info

Piers x Reader: Demon Treat

He had two horns that curled like a ram’s around his long and pointed ears. His eyes were engulfed in black, making the glowing baby blue iris stand out even more. The sharp teeth that were smiling at you sent a small shiver down your spine, but you weren’t about to relent. He reached a hand, the sharp claws grazing at your wrist, but he knew the amount of pressure that would hurt you and avidly avoided it.

“Piers…I said no.” You warned him, glaring at him and his Cheshire grin just spread. Despite how most people would find him to be rather creepy in this form, you were used to it. Those bags around his eye sockets only increased how demonic he looked as he got closer. His breath ghosted over your neck as he moved your hair out of his way.

“Please?” He asked and you groaned while putting put hand son his lanky chest. You used just enough pressure to let him know you didn’t want him getting any closer. He still looked at you with those hungry eyes of his and you had to hold back the gasp as his nails dragged alongside your jugular.

“I told you if you wanted ice cream you needed to speak up at the store. This is on you. I’m not sharing.” You managed to knee him in the stomach and he let out a fake groan as you rolled over on the couch and went back to your delicious bowl of cold cream, “You can’t just expect me to give in to your every whim whenever you give me those puppy dog eyes.” You said, taking a spoonful into your mouth.

“You summon me from hell and won’t even share your ice cream, that’s pretty lame of you.” He now sat crossed-legged on the couch, leaning on his fist while staring at you. The horrible slasher film in the background illuminated his form in the otherwise dark room.

“I never summoned you directly. I summoned a demon to help me and I got stuck with you.” You reminded him while relaxing a bit finally. The attractive demon shot a glare in your direction, not understanding why it was such a bad thing to get stuck with him.

“It’s not my fault you summoned a demon to kill a fuckin angel. Don’t know what fantasy you’re reading where demons are stronger than some benevolent moth, but it isn’t this one.” He murmured and you chuckled while rolling your eyes. You took another bite of ice cream before replying.

“Okay first off, didn’t realize my boss was an angel. Second off, I was hoping for a high ranking demon to drag him to hell for promoting that other asshole at work and not me.” You stated simply and Piers rolled his eyes while going to lay down. His head fell into your lap that was currently being covered by an electric blanket.

“Well, now you’re stuck with me until I figure out how to do that. Both of us got screwed over…mainly me.” His bored voice was annoying you and you were tempted to drop some ice cream right onto his face. You fought the urge, knowing he’d probably catch it in his mouth.

“You should’ve done a background check on your clients before accepting the contract.” You explained, not feeling any remorse for what you did. You were lucky you ended up with this demon, actually. If they had done a background check and were smart about it, you wouldn’t be able to ever make a contract again. That would’ve been horrid.

“The thing was I did your little request and I got your soul for all of eternity. You didn’t tell me you literally didn’t have a soul.” He said, flicking your forehead and making you scrunch up your nose. You huffed in response as you stuck out your tongue. He stuck his forked tongue out as well, making you blush a bit.

“Not my fault. Now we’re stuck since you can’t go back with an unfinished contract.” You said as you put your bowl down and began running your hands through his dual-colored hair. It was pretty soft, despite its looks, and you could’ve sworn you heard him purr a bit. Your hand wandered as your nails gently scratched as the base of his horns. He melted into the touch, giving you a dopey smile and you chuckled. You honestly were happy he was stuck with you.

“Now you gotta deal with me.” Piers said as he sat up. His lanky form towered over yours as he leaned his mouth closer to yours. You once again blushed as one hand went up in case you had to push him away, “Not that I think you mind much.” He said and went and kissed your cheek. You let out a small squeak in surprise as he stole the ice cream bowl and began eating the cold treat.

You went to grab it when his foot shot out and kept you at bay. He actually laughed at your pathetic self trying to fight him before you finally gave up. You just scooted over to him and leaned your head against his shoulder and began watching the movie. You were sure as hell happy you tricked this demon, probably one of your best choices to date.

[bigskydreaming]

I dont want to intrude on your convo with your friend but I've been reading all your posts about your changelings verse since you started making them. Is the Alicia you mentioned next to Boyd in the poart about the changeling market meant to be Boyd's little sister from TW? What's her change, if you don't mind telling??

LOL no worries, and you’re not intruding, I don’t mind comments or weighing in on any post I make ever, unless its specifically under a cut and I’m like ‘plz dont reblog Im gonna delete this in ten minutes anyway, IM JUST HAVING A MOMENT OKAY’ lolol.

So yeah, you’re fine, and if you follow me because of TW which you obvsly know well enough to recognize Alicia’s name, you probably know how much I love exploring minor or barely ever used characters, haha. Alicia Boyd is no exception and I have a ridiculous number of headcanons and places I’ve used her in various unposted WIPs considering that she made all of one appearance on the show and it was a hallucination/flashback. BUT WHATEVER.

Anyway, Alicia’s Change is one of my faves, and given that she’s such a barely there presence in TW, she’s a character I’m pretty comfortable keeping just as she is in my TW changeling headcanons, when writing the official ‘to be published’ stuff in this ‘verse. 

All Changelings’ physical changes and magic are in some way related to their personalities and individual traits, even if that connection isn’t immediately obvious. And even though the Changelings are supernatural in origin, given that their magic reflects who they are and who they are is a product of a 21st century modern society, I wanted some of them to have changes and magic that seems in some ways almost sci-fi or technology based, even while still definitively being magic at its source.

So for no particular reason other than just its my head, I’ll headcanon what I want, I’ve always pictured Alicia as a STEM girl, very much into science and math, and her change and magic ties into that.

Basically, she looks just like she did before she was Changed, so she’s a fourteen year old black girl who’s just a slightly older version of the character we saw briefly on TW….except for the fact that she’s at all times surrounded by what appear to be like…ghostly versions of herself.

Like, at any given time there’s a half dozen to a dozen different versions of herself, totally intangible and somewhat faded/transparent like a photo that hasn’t been fully developed….and they’re all ‘orbiting’ her, for lack of a better term….kinda like the electrons of an atom orbit it.

And these other versions of herself all look slightly different upon closer inspection - different hairstyles, clothing, a couple have glasses, etc….and some appear like they’re floating in mid-air, others like their feet are sinking into the ground….and most of them usually look like they’re just hovering or flickering around Alicia like half-formed images or ghosts that are all moving, doing something - whether appearing like they’re talking, walking, fighting, reading, any number of things….and all of them seemingly paying no attention to what’s going on around Alicia here and now, if they’re even aware of it.

Which they are though, because the thing is, these ‘satellite versions of herself’ are all alternate versions of herself existing currently in other parallel universes where the Change still occurred and they all ended up with the same magic as this Alicia.

So essentially, there are between ten and sixteen versions of Alicia, spread across an equivalent number of parallel universes….who are all Changelings with the exact same magic….which connects them all.

Just like they appear like ghostly images of this Alicia here, this Alicia appears as one of the ghostly images hovering around each of the other versions of herself in their realities.

And despite them always looking like they’re doing their own thing for the most part and oblivious to anything happening in a different reality, that’s just a matter of them learning after a loooot of practice and trial and error, how to primarily just focus on their main reality and only keep a vague/back of their mind awareness trained on what’s happening with the other versions of herself via their magical connection.

Whenever something big happens to one of them though, no matter which reality, like if one of them is in danger, the others can immediately stop what they’re doing in their home realities and pay attention to the one who’s actively in danger….because all the Alicias can communicate with each other, share knowledge and life experiences and skills with each other, and so whenever one of them really needs the others, the others can all focus on them and come to their aid or support them in a variety of ways, even without being physically present.

And some of these parallel universes are more similar than others, and some of them are just sliiiiightly out of sync with the others….like one of the Alicias lives in a universe that for the most part is almost identical to this Alicia’s universe….except its timeline is like, thirty seconds ahead of this one’s.

Meaning while its not foolproof, due to the very very minor differences in realities resulting in the people in each reality making slightly different choices….that 30 seconds ahead Alicia tends to for the most part be able to give this Alicia a 30 seconds heads up to any unexpected danger. 

And there’s a bunch of other ways their magic is helpful too….each of the Alicias’ has their own fields of study…remember since Changeling magic reflects the person, the fact that these Alicias all have the same magic is because all of these versions of her are precocious little science and math prodigies in some way….but they all have slightly different interests and scientific and mathematic pursuits they’ve applied themselves towards or decided to study in earnest. Which means any one of them can at any time draw on the knowledge possessed by one of the others due to studying a specific field that the other one doesn’t know a ton about. Or they can just talk to each other directly, ask each other questions about something, or use themselves as a sounding board or to bounce ideas off of each other. 

So sometimes Alicia will just stop in the middle of talking to other Changelings in town here to be like hang on a sec, I need to get this….and appear to just be talking to one of her own flickering reflections in the middle of the sidewalk, while anyone who knows her well is pretty used to this and just chills like someone waiting for a friend to finish up on the phone after she had to take an urgent call, lol.

And since the Alicias don’t have to be in the same or similar physical space to still appear as satellites of each other Alicia in her home reality, one Alicia can be physically present at one side of town and really need something like….from a book she left at home on the other side of town. And one of the other Alicias is usually bound to be at home and by focusing on her, Alicia can just ask her to read from her own book what this Alicia needs to know, or like, check something online, or solve a problem real quick for her and give her the answer while she focuses on doing something else urgent at the same time, etc.

Then there’s the fact that some of the Alicias have a lot of self-defense training and teach the others some tricks, and a couple are very practiced with a variety of weapons they can pass along expertise about….one Alicia excels at picking locks, which comes in handy as this Alicia, along with about five of the others, is kinda like….the Nancy Drew of their respective Bordertowns, the pint-sized, precocious PI that other Changelings often turn to despite her age, because Alicia (all the Alicias, really) is damn good at what she does.

Also via their connection to each other’s realities, when they focus they can basically see what’s going on around one of the others, so for instance, when this one is in danger or running from someone or something like that, and a few of the others are safe and sound at home, they can just focus solely on her and everything going on around her, and its like Alicia has preternatural awareness of her surroundings then, because she’s got five or six other versions of herself flickering around her head and at her back like ghostly shadows…and all of them are shouting instructions to her or to look out for this or that or turn here, etc. So there’s basically six pairs of eyes looking out for her and keeping her apprised of everything that’s going on in her vicinity at the moment. 

That really comes in handy. 

Everyone can see the other versions of herself that are most present via her connection at any given moment, given that that’s the nature of her physical Change, but since its her magic specifically, only she can actually hear the other versions of her or interact with them….with very rare exceptions. None of them have quite figured out yet how the connection totally works, in the sense that some of them are in sharper focus at times than others, like, there’s always some connection between all of them, but at different times some feel further away and are harder to communicate or interact with than others. And they’re not sure if that’s because like, their different universes are engaged in some kind of movement or orbit or rotation relative to each other, or if there’s some other reason for it, but a few of them are always working on that particular puzzle at any given moment, lol. 

But on a related note, on three separate occasions, when one of the Alicias in one reality was in extreme danger, another Alicia was able to temporarily ‘jump into the driver’s seat’ of that Alicia’s body, via their connection….one time was when one of the skilled fighters jumped into one of the Alicias who was being attacked by someone she’d followed during one of her investigations and turned out to be more dangerous than she’d expected….another time one of the other Alicias jumped into the body of an Alicia who’d been knocked unconscious in an accident and the other Alicia was able to assume control of her body and get her out of danger until she woke up and it bumped the other one back into her own body….and then the third time, one of the Alicias saw that this Alicia was about to get hit by a car that she didn’t see coming, and the alternate Alicia tried to warn her by projecting through their connection as hard as she could, to look out….and somehow accidentally jumped fully into this Alicia’s body and threw her(self) out of the way, before almost immediately being slingshotted back into her own body.

Except none of them have figured out how to do anything like that on command, despite it vexing a number of them. They just know it most likely has something to do with the intensity of a life or death threat or situation making it possible…even though it doesn’t always seem to happen, so they try not to rely on it.

And on one particularly memorable occasion that none of them have the faintest clue why or how it happened, eight of them went from flickering around this Alicia like satellite ghosts….to manifesting physically around her in this reality in their own bodies, and shocking the hell out of the guy trying to intimidate her, who was not at all prepared for the teen girl to suddenly be just one of a literal crowd of nine girls all staring him down. So he turned tail and ran, and they all almost instantly winked back into their home realities and returned to just being afterimage-esque glimpses of them still orbiting around her.

None of them have any idea how that happened or why, let alone how to make it happen again, which irritates the crap out of most of them because ugh, screw magic, there has to be a logical explanation for at least the mechanism of this, damn you supernatural forces with no coherent consistency!

(All the Alicias rant quite often about their inability to pin down firm rules for a lot of Changeling magic and how and why it operates the way it does. Big fans of logic, the Alicias. Not so much the bafflement).

Sooooo….she’s a LOT of fun to write, even though she’s very challenging to…maneuver around, narratively speaking, if that makes sense, lol….but like, yeah, I have a blast writing her. 

The main Alicia, the one who’s always front and center, is snarky but never in a mean-spirited way. More like….her mind is always twenty steps ahead of everyone around her, sometimes literally, lol, and so she rolls her eyes a lot and sometimes makes a show of being exasperated that she has to slow down and wait for everyone to catch up, but its not because of “oh I think everyone but me is so stupid” or anything like that, its usually just….pure impatience on her part. 

The second she figures something out she wants to go, go, go, move on to wherever that leads. She winds up getting in various less than totally safe situations purely because she doesn’t want to stop and grab someone to go along with her when checking something out, but also just because the nature of her magic means she’s never truly completely on her own, and she sometimes forgets to factor that in, or remember that her other selves aren’t usually physically present and able to help her out of a jam. 

She’s so used to their presences that every so often she just genuinely forgets that they’re not right there in the room with her, which has caused some confusion to more than one person when meeting her for the first time and realizing those silent movie-style images of her are actually real and she’s actually communicating with them, not just talking to thin air.

Fortunately, she’s smart and capable in her own right, so when you multiply that by a factor of twelve to fifteen similar minds all attuned to all of their best interests….there’s very few situations she isn’t capable of getting out of on her own. Not that this makes her big brother facepalm any less when she blithely handwaves off a recent escapade as no big deal and something she has no idea why he’s getting so worked up about.

(I mean, she does totally get his concerns and isn’t lacking in self-awareness, its just that she’s also committed to giving him gray hairs before he’s forty. She is, among other things, still a little sister after all.)

Due to her many alternate selves, and the vast array of personality differences between each of them, that many of her close friends are at least aware of by proxy, given that even though they can’t hear her other selves, they’ve all heard her casually talk about them often enough to know them in a sense as well….

Anyway, so a lot of Changelings have nicknames based on their Changes or magic, and she’s no exception. She goes by her own name and just introduces herself as Alicia, but its not uncommon to hear others address her as or reference her as ‘Sybil.’

When asked how she feels about that name, she tends to just shrug and stare off into the distance contemplatively. “I don’t know,” she’ll say at last. “Part of me loves it, and part of me hates it.”

And then she’ll just grin as everyone around her just groans, because she’s just Like This, and just looooves being literal in little ways like that - given that she’s literally acknowledging that half of her alternates feel the one way, and the other half feel the other way. 

Another common line of hers is something like “Hey, I’m only problematic on Thursdays,” or “that wasn’t me, that was Alicia Number Nine, its not my fault she hates you.”

Her magic is just weird enough and behaves just erratically and unexpectedly enough, that its hard to be entirely sure when she’s just bullshitting you and when she might actually be telling the truth and some weird power snafu had one of the other Alicias in her body the last time you interacted with her and she was short with you.

There’s never a dull moment with her.