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spaceyaceface · 11 months

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Hi this is me officially begging for some Ominis x reader blurb/fic ideas, please I want to write for him

Ominis finds out that MC hasn't been healing their wounds because they feel bad about hurting others (not intentionally, just the whole Ranrok situation and they feel that everything is their fault).

Ominis finds out by realising that MC has been acting strange and tries to stop them to talk, but they don't want to and try to get away, so he catches their wrist and MC hisses in pain, so he takes their arm in his hand to see what's wrong and why it hurt MC and feels countless cuts and wounds.

MC feels embarrassed and bad, so they try to get away, but his hold on them is firm.

Ominis asks what it is (the wounds) and they try to brush it off, but he's persistent.

Eventually Ominis explains to them how it's not their fault and makes them drink some Wiggenweld potions and helps them bandage the wounds (and it gets very cute and fluffy and wholesome).

So yeah, something like that if you want to ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭

AHHHH we love us some good ole angst/hurt/comfort/fluff :) thanks so much for the request! If I'm honest, I got a bit carried away with this one, it was sort of therapeutic to write this sort of comfort. I hope I did it justice!

Ominis Gaunt x gn!Reader/MC

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Injuries (minor), guilt, self-destructive tendencies, overall just kinda heavy so watch out for that (but ends with some good fluff)

The sleeves of your robe brushed against your skin—even that light amount of pressure made you wince. But you pushed away the pain, instead focusing on the candle in front of you, blasting out a precise Confringo to just light the wick. The movement caused more brushing against your arms—it made the bruises in your side ache, too. That didn’t stop you from turning to the next candle, unleashing the spell once again.

Sebastian had been right about Confringo—it was a great spell. Wonderful for letting some of the fire inside out.

You knew you should leave the Undercroft soon, but the place had become a safe haven just like it was for the ones who showed it to you. Here, no one gave their condolences for Professor Figg. No one asked for more favors you simply couldn’t refuse. No one praised you for the destruction you had caused. It didn’t matter if all of it had resulted in saving Hogwarts, or the whole world, for that matter. Causing death and pain took a toll on one’s soul, even in self defense.

You sucked in a sharp breath as a twist of your arm pull a scratch the wrong way—you cursed quietly, not bothering to check if it was bleeding again or not. It didn’t matter to you.

To say you were avoiding people was an understatement. You took every opportunity to be alone you could find, skipping classes and meals, telling friends you had plans, running “errands” in the Highlands. You’d venture into the darker parts of the forest, daring any creature that stood in your way to challenge you. You always came out on top—but you always came home a bit more battered and scrapped up. You’d stopped taking potions or dressing your wounds. They didn’t matter to you. The pain didn’t matter. You couldn’t fix the destruction you’ve caused, why should you allow yourself the luxury of fixing yourself?

People had died for you. You didn’t deserve to feel whole.

There was the sound of clanging behind you—the unmistakable cacophony of someone entered the Undercroft. You lower your wand, glancing down quickly to make sure your cuts and scraps were covered. Looking up, you realized it didn’t matter either way as Ominis walked into the room.

He called out your name. “Are you in here?”

He held out his wand. There was no chance he didn’t sense you already. He was just doing you the service of allowing you to announce yourself.

“I’m here, Ominis,” you said.

“Merlin’s beard, it smells like fireworks in here,” he said, coming closer to you. You resisted your instinct to run—whether towards him or away from him, you didn’t know.

Truth was, of all the people you’d been avoiding, you’d missed him the most. He was the one you felt the most guilty lying to before slipping off. You felt like you were betraying the trust he put in you—something you should have honored, because Ominis Gaunt did not trust easily.

“I was just practicing Confringo a bit,” you said.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head. “I long for the day you and Sebastian tire of that spell.”

Silence hung in the air. You should talk to him. Ask how he’s been. Tell him how hopeless you felt. But that voice in the back of your head nagged you to run.

And just as you had at every turn leading up to this point, you listened.

“I should go,” you said. “I haven’t tended to my nifflers yet tonight, they’ll be angry at me.” You turned to leave, walking past him and towards the door.

“Wait a moment,” Ominis said. You stopped in your tracks. If it had been anyone else, you would have kept walking, but there was something about Ominis that made you want to stay. “I… you haven’t been acting yourself, lately. I’m… worried about you.”

You stayed frozen where you stood, pressing your lips together. He took a couple steps closer to you, hesitant, like you were a wild animal.

“Just… got a lot going on,” you said weakly. He was at your shoulder now. You had to escape. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

You took another step towards the door, but a hand wrapped around your wrist. You gasped as a sharp pain ran through you and you struggled to pull away, stopping when it only caused to sensation to worsen. Ominis’s hand trembled a bit, grip loosening, but not letting go.

“Wh-what was that? What happened?” There was panic in his voice. You didn’t want to hear it.

“Nothing,” you said, trying to catch your breath as the pain dulled again. “Nothing, Ominis, I’m fine, let me—“

But he stepped closer, dragging the sleeve of your robe up with his other hand, fingers tracing softly over the cuts and marks on your arm. His mouth dropped open and you tried with one final tug to free yourself from him, but he held fast.

He said your name softly. “What is this? Tell me.” It was was a demand, gentle but firm. It held a warning in the tone of it—don’t lie to me.

“I just... I needed to let off some steam, so I went to the Forbidden Forest to fight some spiders," you answered. It wasn't a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth.

Ominis sensed this immediately. "So why haven't you healed them yet?"

"Haven't gotten around to it." Your voice was hard, cold, daring him to push you further.

His hand traced up your arm once again, ghosting over the wounds. "Some of these are starting to heal on their own. They're days old--weeks, even."

"Leave it alone, Ominis," you spat back at him.

"I will not leave it alone!" he growled. "How could I not have noticed this? Is this why you've been avoiding everyone?"

"Well I couldn't bloody well go around looking like this, could I?" you said sarcastically.

"Why aren't you taking care of yourself?" Ominis asked, voice raising. "You know better than this, why would you--"

"Because I don't deserve it!" you shouted. Your voice ached with emotion as you continued, trembling. "After everything that's happened--how could I deserve to be well? People have died for me, and I let it happen. How could I let myself carry on after all the pain I've caused? You could never under--"

But you stopped yourself, staring at the hardness that had overtaken Ominis's features. Of course he understood. Perhaps he was the one person who could.

"I dare you to finish that sentence." His voice was low and even. It cut you like a knife.

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered. The anger you felt only seconds ago had dissipated completely. "I wasn't thinking straight. I haven't been for some time now," you admitted.

"No, you bloody well haven't," Ominis said. He finally dropped your wrist, moving to place a hand to the small of your back as he led you to a crate to sit on. "If you had, maybe you would have come to someone who knows a thing or two about this sort of guilt."

He leaned forward, removing the robe from off your shoulders and down your arms before sitting beside you.

"I'm sorry," you said again, softer this time.

He let out a deep sigh, shoulders losing tension as the anger melted off of him. "You need to take care of yourself. Even when it doesn't feel like you should. Do you understand me?" His tone was gentle as held out his hand, face up. You placed your wrist in his palm.

"I-I know. It's just..." You trailed off, eyes closing to hold back tears. There weren't words to explain the tormented feeling twisting inside of you. But Ominis didn't push you to describe it--he knew it all to well already.

"You need to take some Wiggenweld. It's no use arguing--I know you have some with you."

You sighed but obeyed, digging through the pocket of your robes until you found one, uncorking the top and downing it. The sensation was familiar, even if you hadn't felt it in weeks; a slight tingle across your body, intensifying at the places where it healed wounds.

Ominis hummed softly, feeling some of the cuts and scraped vanish under his fingertips. "Some of these are a bit deeper. They'll take some time to heal on their own." He pulled out his wand, pointing it at your arm and saying "Ferula." You watched the bandages wrap around you as he moved to repeat the action on your other arm.

"Any more I should be concerned about?" he asked.

"No," you said honestly. "Those were the worst of them. I'm sure the rest of them were taken care of by the Wiggenweld."

Ominis nodded, sensing you were telling the truth. "I should really take you to Nurse Blainey. But... as long as you let me check on them, I'll be content."

"I suppose I can live with that," you said, offering a small smile.

He gave a huff, but you could tell it was a good natured one. "You better not get any new ones, or so help me I'll force Wiggenweld down your throat."

A true smile graced your face now. "Funny, I've missed your threats."

"If you hadn't been avoiding me, you wouldn't have anything to miss."

You didn't have a response to that. He was right, as he had been with many things that night. He shifted to face you more fully.

"I care about you, deeply. Perhaps... perhaps more deeply than I should." He paused after the admission. "But it doesn't matter to me if you share those feelings. What matters to me as that you take care of yourself, and allow others to help when you don't feel up to doing that task alone."

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. He stiffened momentarily, surprised at your forward action. But then he relaxed, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "For what it's worth," you said softly. "I do share those feelings. I... I can't promise to be perfect with what you ask of me, at least not right away. But I won't push you away again. I can promise that."

He smiled softly, bringing your hand up to press and soft kiss on the back of it. Your heart fluttered at the gentleness of his lips--after weeks of hardening yourself to everything around you, you found yourself ready to start opening up again.

You leaned your head on Ominis's shoulder and let that night be the first step in the right direction.

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis gaunt x mc

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wh1sper-to-a-scream · 1 month

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Hi! Could I request an angst oneshot about Kit Walker in Briarcliff please? :)

ahhhh of course honey, kit's an absolute sweetheart and i adore him so much honestly

a/n: so sorry this took so long for me to post lmao, sorry it's so short as well, I don't usually write this little :(

~ you said you'd never leave ~

kit walker x reader

summary: you meet kit at briarcliff, the two of you fall madly in love with what you think is going to be the fairytale ending you've always dreamed of but life had other plans for you

warnings: mentions of torture at briarcliff but that's about it tbh

song: 'the thrill is gone by b.b king'

you were beginning to lose all hope; truly. you never were one to be pessimistic. though more days where you failed to feel the sun on your face again, or the rain kiss your cheeks, you knew your life may have ended then and there. some people just weren't meant to get lucky.

you sat alone. like you always did. you preferred it that way. it seemed as though others in the asylum were scared of you. the rumours that you chopped up your family in the kitchen of your family home spread like wildfire. funny, you pondered. that the atrocities of people in this pit of hell based first impressions of you upon assumptions they convinced themselves was reality. you didn't mind. you never did. not really.

you remember meeting him; the memory exploded in your mind like fireworks, bleeding crepuscular colours over the blank canvas of the dull ache the asylum reduced you to. for the first time in two years, you no longer felt lonesome. the steady aching of your heart longed for him. to touch him. to feel him. to love him. kit walker was undeniably the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. you think, now looking back, that's why it hurt as much as it did.

you remember it well. that incessant song replaying over and over in your mind. though you'd learnt to drown it out. the music was loud but your thoughts were louder. he came and sat across from you. his eyes pouring into yours, the darkened hues warm and inviting. you swore then and there that you'd drown in them and die happy. your heart thudded. loud, beating. had he heard it not? he most definitely did.

"the name's kit." he smiled. his smile, like his gaze, was warm. soft and sweet, too pure for a place like this. his voice dripped like honey, sweetening your mood. you were convinced he'd give you toothaches with a voice like that.

"y/n" your hands stayed placed in your lap, back straight. your eyes fixated on him. the look of innocent adoration ignited the fire crackling deep within kit's stomach. in some way, he felt guilty. he was married.

"i've heard about you." the words flower with ease. you maintained eye contact. you dared not look away; not once. kit shifted in his place across from you, avoiding looking at your eyes. he felt vulnerable. the dullness evident in your irises, broken and bruised. though he dared not ask.

these weren't the first words kit wished to hear. who hadn't heard about him? the grotesque image that had been painted about him sat heavy in his stomach, the nausea swarmed him like waves. though unlike those crashing against shores, these waves are violent. unpleasant.

"funny," kit responded, desperate to shift conversation away from him. "i don't think I've heard about you."

you cocked your head to the side, eyebrow raised in amusement. he's changing the subject. that much you knew. and you let him; he'd open up when he was ready. they always do.

he continued. "i definitely would've remembered if i had."

he smiled.

there it was. that's what got you.

those perfectly crafted lines on his cheeks as he smiled. basking in the pearly whites that he offered you. through the mediocre attempt at flirting you could see it. pain, guilt, innocence. all the emotions you could envision all at once. you understood him. though you needn't want to pry, you couldn't help the subtle curiosity about him that spiked the more you two got to know each other. you relished in those moments. cherished them. and for the first time, you felt hopeful again.

..............................................................................................................................

"kiss me." he said it so innocently, looking down at you with heavy lids, sultry and desperate. longing for any human connection he could conjure. kit clawed at your shoulders, caressing your hands with such a delicate touch that would make angels weep with envy. you stared up at him from the place he remained between your legs, tracing his jaw with your finger, moving them to his lips. your heart ached for him, as much he did you.

"we could get caught..." you hesitated. and for the first time, you appeared unsure of yourself. you wanted to, god how you wanted to. you couldn't fathom how desperate you were to feel his body pressed against yours, moulded together in perfect connection.

"i'd get caught a thousand times over if it meant kissing you just once."

you suppose it's what drew you to kit walker. his charismatic smile that had you melting on your own two feet. or perhaps it was the way he cradled you so gently. or even when he told you that he loved you. that when you were both free from this wretched place, he'd marry you and you'd be his and he'd be yours. you never were quite certain.

it was a colder night in november when you realised you loved him.

you guessed it was around six am. you were sat in your cell, consumed by your own thoughts and before you knew it you were being called for breakfast. it was the usual, eggs and a slice of toast. a small portion of berries for after if you were lucky enough. you often refuse it all together, the stale bread leaving an unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth. it was around seven am when you saw him. covered in bruises, bitter red droplets painted his lips. his eyes were dark and heavy, he hadn't slept at all. he offered you a timid smile as he sat across from you.

you'd been here before. you remembered it all too fondly.

"what have they done to you?" your voice was hoarse, like a whisper only kit could hear. your breathing was shaking, and you emitted the breath you were unaware you were holding. he merely sighed in response, looking down at the floor sheepishly, hesitant to meet your concerned stare.

"they caught us..."

it hit you.

he'd taken a beating for you. the scars on his back would be a constant reminder of the brutality he endured. and it was all for you. thirty maybe forty whips and lashes of pain to symbolise the undying love he held for you and you alone. your heart swelled in your chest, the blood pumped like a jolt of electricity igniting the passion deep inside you.

is this what it felt like? to be in love?

"we're gonna get outta here." kit had whispered so gently, like he always did. he embraced you with a strong grip, as though he seldom wished to let you go. you nodded in response. In desperation. wild thoughts ran through your mind, swarming your conscience. you were finally going to get out of here. after all these years. with the man you loved.

..............................................................................................................................

alas, it was true what he had said. he promised freedom. it had been three days, six hours and forty-two minutes exactly since kit had escaped the asylum. three days, six hours and forty-two minutes since he'd left you. alone once more. his vow of freedom had become nothing but a web of broken promises, shattering your heart into grand shards and leaving you lost among the wreckage.

you'll be twenty-one tomorrow. you'll spend it alone. enclosed by these daunting walls, broken by the pain of your first love lost. you dreamt of him that night. those solitude nights spent with nothing but a blank mind became envisions of dark irises and dimpled cheeks. his voice rang like a bell in your ears, you remember it vividly.

"the name's kit."

though you let nothing but a single tear drip slowly down your cheek, watching as the droplet lay to rest on your knuckle.

like said prior, dear reader, some people, perhaps, never were destined to get lucky.

#ahs #ahs asylum #kit walker #kit walker x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader

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ladylannisterxo · 2 years

Text

Kiss Me Deadly

Pairings; Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Words; 9.4k (wowza!)

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), unhealthy coping mechanisms, protected and unprotected sex (yes there are two smut scenes!), semi-public sex, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), marking, light face slapping (only once, a blink and you'll miss it moment), teasing, praise kink, flirting, a single drug deal, smoking, angst, fluff, love confessions, angst with a happy ending, reader had a past relationship with Billy, reader is kind of mean (on occasion), somewhat follows canon storyline (yeahhh, I think that's everything lmao!)

Summary; On your good days, you can manage to navigate life without thinking of Billy at all. Sometimes he only springs up in your mind once or twice but it's never long enough to throw you off course. But on your bad days... well, that's what led you here into the arms of Eddie Munson, a boy you're determined not to like but one who is eager to burrow under your skin and never let you go.

A/N; Ahhhh I'm so excited about this one! I've been tossing this idea around in my head for about a week and I just HAD to write it - Eddie has taken over my entire life so here we are, with 9k words (my longest fic ever) of just Eddie goodness!

{ masterlist }

It started off simple enough and it’s not as if any of this was planned. No way. Eddie Munson, the local menace to society, was your dealer. That’s all, case closed. And it’s not as if you wanted to become a druggy overnight or anything, but after the events of Starcourt, you were beginning to feel less and less like yourself and more like an alien trapped inside of a body you no longer understood.

Starcourt had been… a disaster, and that’s putting it mildly. Sometimes in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind, you can still see the flashing lights of the fireworks and, always of course, the overwhelming guttural screams Billy had let out in his attempt to fight off the Mind Flayer. Billy was never supposed to be a part of this. Billy was never supposed to die. On your good days, you can manage to navigate life without thinking of Billy at all. Sometimes he only springs up in your mind once or twice but it’s never long enough to throw you off course. But, on your bad days… well, that’s what led you here.

After Starcourt had fallen, after all of the funerals, Hawkins did its best to return to a state of normalcy. How everyone around you was able to casually move on as if this wasn’t the biggest hit this town had ever taken was beyond you. It ended up being one big cover up: a mall fire. Something about a corroded gas line that ended up setting the place ablaze. How quaint. But if anyone in this town had half a mind to really think about it, how does a brand new shopping mall already have a corroded gas line? Short answer, it doesn’t. It wouldn’t.

It was after the cover up story and after everyone started to move on that you stopped feeling so sad all the time, stopped grieving so much. Instead, all of those emotions morphed into one that seemed to sit in the pit of your stomach day in and day out: anger. And not just any type of anger, the type that is white hot, unbridled rage. It’s all consuming and when you really start to feel it, it takes over every nerve ending in your body and makes your brain check out.

You needed to take the edge off, you needed to sleep without having an abundance of nightmares all the goddamn time. And that’s what brought you to Eddie Munson. You had heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that Eddie sold drugs on the side. You didn’t really know Eddie all that well, having never really spoken to him, but you knew of him. You knew he was repeating senior year for the third time which was absolutely baffling to say the least but you also knew that while he talked a lot of shit about parties, he was always at them. Every single one, or well, all of the ones you had been to anyway over the years. He would always operate as a wallflower, lurking in the shadows, selling his supply to the overeager teens of the town—really just being a productive member of society, no doubt. It was truly something, how the well to do teens of this town had branded Eddie the label “freak” and yet when they needed to get blitzed out of their minds, he was their guy! What a bunch of bullshit.

You had never partaken in the drug scene, never wanted to stray off course. You were a good student, more than good, if you were being totally honest. And it’s not as if your grades were slipping or anything, you just couldn’t focus anymore, your mind constantly drifting back to that night. You couldn’t take it anymore and that’s how you had originally found yourself staring down Eddie Munson as you engaged in your first ever drug deal. What a classy gal you are.

“I can give you a half ounce for uh… twenty. That work for you?”

“Sure?”

You had no idea what you were doing and now it was blatantly obvious. You hadn’t expected him to go all business-like on you when he popped open the lid of the container he carried around with him. Your eyes dart around the wooded area, fingers drumming lightly on the picnic table.

“First time, huh?”

It’s not unkind, more curious. Your eyes flick up to find him already staring at you—big, brown eyes searching yours, seemingly trying to figure you out. Why you of all people would be contacting him for a shady drug deal. You start to feel small under his weighted stare, a feeling that automatically sparks the anger inside of you.

“Thought you were a drug dealer, not a narc,” you snap, “what’s it matter to you?”

His eyes blow wide for a brief moment and then an easy smile forms on his lips. He turns his attention back to the assortment of drugs in front of him and starts pulling your “order” together.

“It doesn’t,” he responds after a moment, “just making sure you’re, ya know, good.”

“I’m fine.”

He smiles again. “Sure.”

And then he’s holding his hand out, eyes focused intently on you, waiting. Right. He’s not going to give you the goods without getting his payment first. Smart. Still baffling how he’s repeating senior year for the third time but common sense and book sense are two entirely different things. You rifle around in your bag for a moment before pulling out a crisp twenty dollar bill and placing it into his awaiting hand. He places your payment into his container and then drops what you came here for directly in front of you on your Chemistry textbook.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling yourself to your feet and shoving your “order” into the bottom of your bag.

“My pleasure.” He grins. Why does he keep smiling? “So, hey, random question, but do you play D&D?”

Your hands still as you turn back to face him. “Huh?”

“D&D? You know, Dungeons & Dragons.”

“I know what it is.”

“Right. So, I’m asking, do you play?”

What the fuck? You squint your eyes at him because surely, he’s fucking with you. This was just supposed to be a drug deal, where you exchange payment for goods and then carry on with your fucked up life. But here he is, Eddie fucking Munson, staring back at you with another one of his stupid smiles with, what appears to be, the patience of a fucking saint.

“I- I don’t- What?” Smooth.

He shakes his head with a chuckle, his brown waves bouncing slightly. “Look, you just, you seem like you could use a break and for me, well, D&D has always provided a stellar means of escapism.”

“I don’t know how to play,” you say flatly, willing the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“I could teach you,” he offers in return, “I’ve been told I’m quite good.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Uh huh and why would you want to be oh so kind and teach me the ways of D&D?”

“Like I said, you look like you could use a break.” He smiles again, you narrow your eyes. “And, yeah okay, we could use another player.”

You scoff but in spite of yourself, a hint of a smile finds its way onto your face. This is the most normal conversation you’ve had in months and it feels… good. So good. You’re not sure how to explain it but for all of Eddie’s wild antics and boisterous personality, he makes you feel calm, grounded.

“Okay, sure, why the fuck not?” You nod. “And you can… teach me? That’s not going to be difficult?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not going to be an overnight thing but I’m the Dungeon Master so if anyone can truly teach you, it’ll be me.”

He winks and you’re biting back a grin. This is so not how you thought this day was going to go.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh; can’t help it. “Dungeon Master?”

“Yeah, it’s the game organizer,” he explains confidently, “the one who creates the campaign and the… what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing! It’s just,” you pause, tilting your head to the side, granting him a sly smile, “I mean, you realize how it sounds, right? Dungeon Master?” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to let him in on the joke. “Come on, Dungeon Master! It makes you sound like a sex fiend!”

He snorts. Dropping his head, his chin rests against his chest as a laugh ripples through his entire body. Then he’s covering his face with his hands and he almost looks… embarrassed? No way, Eddie doesn’t get embarrassed. Does he? But his laughter subsides and he meets your gaze again, a shimmer still present in his eyes and a forever smile on his face.

“Sex fiend, huh?” He winks. “Not the worst thing I’ve ever been called.”

“Okay and we’re done here.”

He laughs again and you’re pretty sure that he’s just laughing at you at this point. His eyes remain focused on you as you finish packing up your things and sling your bag over your shoulder.

“So, let me know if you ever need to take the edge off again,” he says simply, gathering his own things, “and I’m free tomorrow for D&D if you’re still… interested?”

You give him a thumbs up because that’s apparently something that you do now and instead of waiting for a response or, God forbid, another awkward moment, you start walking back towards campus. You can feel his eyes on you, burning right through to your soul but you don’t dare turn around because if you have to see him smile at you one more time, you might shatter into a million pieces.

That was three months ago and your “not so relationship” relationship with Eddie became surprisingly easy after that. He continued to hook you up with weed whenever things became a little too difficult to manage; you never took anything stronger, you didn’t trust yourself enough to give up complete control. He also kept his word and taught you the ins and outs of D&D. You’re no expert but you’re decent enough to keep up with the longtime players of the Hellfire Club, a club which you now find yourself a part of. You have the shirt and everything.

And Eddie was easy, uncomplicated. You liked Eddie. You liked Eddie a lot. You found out he played guitar in a band; a band which you still haven’t seen play yet but you keep telling him you’ll come to a gig one day. He’s also surprisingly funny, always doing the absolute most to make you laugh, and he’s smart too, smarter than he gives himself credit for. He just lacks… dedication? Determination? Confidence? All of the above.

Oh and then there’s the sex. That came later, about a month after the initial drug deal. Sex with Eddie was also another thing you did not plan for but it came so naturally. But there were rules… or well, you had rules and Eddie abided by them. He had to or else he wouldn’t be getting his dick wet. And they weren’t unreasonable, not to you anyway, and there were only three.

Rule Number One: No one could know. And it’s not because you were embarrassed about being seen with him, that didn’t matter to you. You spoke to him when you passed him in the halls, you sat with him at lunch, you wore the fucking Hellfire Club shirt that let everyone else know who you spent your time with. That’s not what this rule is for. You didn’t want anyone to know that you were fucking Eddie, rather regularly, because you didn’t want anyone to slap a label onto your relationship. Because it’s not a relationship, not at all. It’s just two people engaging in casual consensual sex because it feels good and it helps take the edge off. It means nothing and you can stop at any time. Besides, if you were being completely honest with yourself… you wanted one thing that was just yours, a thing you could keep away from the prying eyes of Hawkins because if no one knew about it, it could never be ruined.

Rule Number Two: No kissing. This also includes no marking, which is a sub point to Rule Number One because a mark would alert everyone to something happening. You were fine with fucking Eddie; you were good with blowing him and having him finger you and eat you out at the same time. These were all things that you were perfectly content with. Because it’s meaningless but kissing? No way. Kissing is intimate, kissing is a risk, kissing opens the door to feelings and… no, fuck that. Eddie had thought this rule was a bit too much so to compromise, you allow him to kiss any part of your body, just not your lips. Halfway happy.

And then there’s the final rule. Rule Number Three: No talking. Now, this seems a little excessive, you’re aware of that. But this doesn’t include shooting the breeze or talking about D&D or music or whatever. This is specifically for those deeper topics like why sometimes you need to buy weed from him every day of the week or why it looks like you didn’t sleep well the night before or what exactly happened at Starcourt that fateful July night. No, there is no room for that type of talk because all it does is piss you off. The one thing you found that you liked the most about Eddie is that he doesn’t pry and maybe it’s because he really doesn’t give a shit one way or the other but you both learned the hard way what happens when he asks if you’re feeling okay. You had snapped at him hard one afternoon after a routine hookup and he recoiled from you like he had been burned. Now this rule exists and everyone is much happier for it. Right? Right.

The school day had been dragging and it was only noon. You sometimes prefer to spend your lunch period in the library studying or getting caught up on work but Hellfire Club is meeting later this evening and Eddie likes to brief everyone ahead of time. So, here you are, sitting alone at a lunch table waiting for everyone else as you go ahead and complete your Physics homework. You’re currently trying to figure out how the back of the textbook is claiming the problem you’re working on should result in an entirely different answer then the one you’re getting when you feel a presence behind you. You see a Newsweek magazine drift down in front of your field of vision and his mouth is right at your ear.

“The devil has come to America,” he says ominously.

He drops himself down on the bench next to you, straddling the seat and facing you. He brings the magazine up in front of his face and scans the article dramatically. You drop your pencil with a sigh and grant him your undivided attention because surely, this is going to be good.

“Dungeons & Dragons. At first regarded as a harmless game of make believe now has both parents and psychologists concerned.” He reads off in an overly exaggerated tone. “Studies have linked violent behavior to the game saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even… murder!”

He slaps the magazine down on the table with a flourish, granting you a manic grin. You breathe a laugh, pulling the magazine closer to scan the rest of the article.

“Sodomy, huh?” You inquire, eyes trained on the magazine.

Eddie barks a laugh. “Apparently.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

You can feel his eyes on you as he leans in closer, trying to gauge even the subtlest of actions.

“I’m sorry, am I learning something about you right now?”

“What do you mean?” You ask innocently, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Sodomy includes oral and let’s be honest, we are no stranger to that.”

“Sure but it also includes anal so again, am I learning something about you right now?”

“I dunno.” You shrug and it’s not an answer but he’ll figure it out later… one day… eventually. “But I’m pretty sure the devil has been here the whole time and even if he is just now making his way to America, riding in on the back of a fantasy game just seems illogical. But hey, what do I know?”

He rests his head in the palm of his hand, listening to you run off at the mouth over something as inconsequential as a bullshit article about the dangers of D&D. He feels a warmth bloom in his chest but he ignores it, he always ignores it—he has to. Instead, he opts to stare at you with a whimsical smile etched on his face. His eyes travel down to your notebook full of equations he can’t make heads or tails of.

“What are you working on?”

“Physics,” you reply easily, picking up your pencil and resuming your work.

“I didn’t know you were taking Physics,” he mumbles, leaning in closer to watch you work.

“Yep, AP.”

“Oh, little miss advanced placement, huh?” He purrs, breath tickling your ear. “Too bad this isn’t multiple choice. You could pick D, all of the above for everything.”

You snort. “Mmm, is that what you do? Pick D on all of your quizzes and tests?”

“Well actually,” he states, taking on an overly posh accent, “I’ll have you know that the general rule of thumb is that if you don’t know something, always pick C. Which… now that I’m thinking about it, that’s probably where I keep going wrong.”

“Oh that’s where you keep going wrong,” you say, dropping your pencil and turning to him with a smile. “And here I thought it was because you didn’t study and didn’t try.”

Eddie scans your face as a mischievous glint forms in his eyes. “So D then, all of the above.”

You shake your head with an eye roll. “You’re insufferable.”

You turn back to your work and a companionable silence falls over the two of you. He watches you for a few moments more before pulling out a pen and doodling in the margins of your notebook. You let him, finding the notion that you’ll eventually be turning this work in and your teacher will also have to gaze at these doodles endlessly entertaining.

“You have really pretty handwriting,” he murmurs offhandedly after a moment.

Your heart twists in your chest and you hate it. You don’t hate it because he said it, you hate it because you actually don’t hate it. Not even a little bit.

“I need something from you,” you blurt out, trying desperately to skip over how his stupid compliment made you feel.

“Alright,” he nods, still drawing his doodles, “is this a weed kind of something or… another kind of something?”

“I dunno,” you breathe, “skip fourth and find out.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet yours and he can instantly tell from your weighted stare and shallow breathing that this isn’t the “weed kind of something”. He smirks.

“How am I supposed to graduate if I keep skipping all my classes?” He’s messing with you, he likes to do that from time to time. He doesn’t really care though, he’ll skip every class if you ask him to. “Where do you want to meet? The woods—”

“—Your van. Parking lot. Fourth period.” You lean in a little closer, breath fanning over his face. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up. He doesn’t go for it, he knows better. Going against your rules always ends up with him getting burned. He lets out a shaky breath and opens his mouth to respond when Gareth drops his bag down on the table with a loud thump. You and Eddie immediately spring apart as the others file in to sit with you. You bite your lip, turning back to your work and he knows the rest of this conversation will have to wait until he gets you alone during fourth period.

The remainder of lunch passes by fairly quickly. Eddie briefs everyone on what to expect at Hellfire later and you admittedly only focus a little bit as you really are trying to get this Physics work out of the way. Especially since Hellfire always runs longer than planned, especially because you’ll be skipping fourth period. You squeeze your thighs together in anticipation.

Third period English feels like it lasts an eternity and while normally you’re invested in the novel of the week, you can’t help but find yourself staring at the clock, willing the minutes to tick by quicker than they are. When the bell sounds, you’re immediately out of your seat and booking it to the exit that leads to the parking lot. You hope Eddie is already there waiting, you don’t like arriving before he does. It offers too much risk for someone to see you lingering around his van.

You slow your pace when you finally get outside, trying to act casual as you meander slyly on over to where his van is parked. You spin in a slow circle to see if anyone is paying any attention to you and once you deem yourself completely anonymous, you thump your fist against the back door of his van: two steady knocks, a beat, and then four more in quick succession. You came up with the secret knock after the one time he took his precious time in letting you in and someone almost saw you. Just another sub point to Rule Number One, that’s all.

One of the doors opens just wide enough for you to squeeze through and then he’s reaching out a hand to pull you up and inside. Once the door is shut and locked and you do a quick perimeter check to definitely make sure no one is getting nosy, your hands immediately fly to the buckle of his belt, unbuckling it and whipping the belt through the loops of his jeans so fast, it makes a cracking sound in the stillness of the van.

“Someone’s eager,” he laughs, “not that I’m complaining but I’d be interested to know what it was I said at lunch to warrant you being all over me like this.”

“Why?”

“So I can do it again, obviously.”

“Shut up,” you huff with an eye roll, “take your clothes off.”

He does, starting with his shirt. He pulls it up and over his head, exposing the inky black of his tattoos against his pale skin to you. When he catches you staring, he smirks and then he’s kicking off his Reeboks and sliding himself out of his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. He’s on full display and you’re still very much clothed. His cock stands at full attention, red and leaking, ready to be touched and sucked and fucked.

“Good thing I’m not self-conscious,” he admits, eyeing your still fully clothed form.

“I want you to do it,” you state matter-of-factly and then, “please.”

He walks on his knees over to you; it’s awkward but no one here is laughing. It’s all heated stares and crackling sexual tension. His hands run softly up your stomach to cup your breasts and then back down around your waist to squeeze the swell of your ass. The action pushes you flush up against his warm skin and his nose bumps against your own. He’s too close so you turn your head before he gets the wrong idea and he latches his lips onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder and suckles at your skin.

You moan softly at the sensation, hands resting on his biceps. “No marks,” you warn.

Eddie lets go with a sigh and then his fingers are teasing the hem of your shirt before he rips it up and over your head in one swift motion. His hand splays against your back in search of the clasp to your bra and you breathe a soft laugh after a moment of intense fumbling.

“Front clasp, Eds.”

He looks down and finds the damn thing sitting pretty between the swell of your breasts and his breath hitches. “Even better,” he groans.

He pops the clasp open and pulls the bra off your shoulders and down your arms, flinging it to the discarded pile of clothes already accumulating. His attention is back on your breasts in an instant, cupping them in his hands and teasing your nipples between his fingers until they’re hardened peaks. You drop your head back with a sigh and he licks a stripe from the base of your neck up to your jaw. It sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

“Can you help me out with your shoes at least?”

You drop rather awkwardly down onto your ass and pull at the laces of your Converse, tugging them both off and tossing them over to where his Reeboks lay. You lean back, keeping yourself propped up on your elbows and he takes the initiative to unfasten the button of your jeans and pull them and your panties down and off your legs.

Your hand reaches out on instinct, teasing your fingers along his shaft. He twitches at your touch. Eddie leans over you then, hovering just a breath away from you and before you can turn your head away from him again, he presses a delicate kiss to your cheek and then moves his lips to your jaw and then further down your neck. He stops for a moment at your breasts, lavishing them with his hands and tongue, taking each nipple into his mouth and drawing out the most wanton moans from you. As sinful as you sound, it’s like heaven to him. He trails wet kisses down your belly and then he’s finally, finally where you want him most.

His breath is hot against your pussy and his nose brushes ever so lightly against your clit. You bite down on your lip, keeping yourself still as you wait for him to make his fucking move. You’re just about to chastise him, tell him to take a goddamn picture, it’ll last longer, when he flattens his tongue against your entrance and licks all the way up to your clit.

“Oh,” you breathe, letting your arms buckle out from underneath you to lay flat on your back.

After fucking in his van started becoming a regular occurrence, Eddie took it upon himself to make it a bit more comfortable for the two of you. There are now a couple of blankets for you to lay on and a few pillows because why not? The more comfy it is, the better. He likes to refer to his ride now as the “Shaggin’ Wagon” as a joke which he finds hilarious. You didn’t at first but each time he uses the term, he waggles his eyebrows and gives you a mischievous grin and you can’t help but laugh with him. Eddie is a total loser sometimes but you like it.

His tongue circles around your clit for a moment, loving the whiny sounds you grace him with. Then he’s latching on with his lips and sucking fervently against the sensitive bundle of nerves and your back arches at the feeling. Your hands immediately fly to twist your fingers in his hair but also to keep his him right fucking there. A single finger prods at your entrance and in one fluid motion, he’s buried knuckle deep inside of you, the cool metal of his rings flush against your ass.

“Fuck, Eds,” you moan, “right there.”

His finger slips in and out of you at a steady pace, lips still stimulating your clit. Your fingers twist tighter in his hair, impending orgasm right on the horizon. He slips his digit from you, wraps both hands around your thighs, and buries his face completely in your cunt, his tongue pushing inside to get you just where you so desperately want to be. You roll your hips, feeling his tongue push in deeper, and then with an elongated moan, you’re cumming on his tongue and he’s lapping at your dripping pussy, taking everything you give him.

With a shuddering gasp, you push at his head to keep him from overstimulating you because this is far from over. His mouth is slick with your arousal and he wipes his fingers across his mouth, gathering up your wetness and licking them clean.

“Have I ever told you how fucking good you taste?” He asks, finger in his mouth and mirth ever present in his eyes.

“Today? No.”

“Well let me remind you,” he whispers, crawling back up your body and bumping his nose against yours. “You taste so goddamn divine, sweetheart, it’s too bad you can’t taste it for yourself.”

“Don’t start, Eddie,” you caution.

“Okay, okay,” he relents, “do you want to keep going?”

You spread your legs wider around him, reaching down to take his cock in hand. Hips rolling forward, you brush the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“What do you think?”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “okay, let me get a condom.”

Eddie pulls away from you then, fumbling for his discarded jeans. He reaches into his back pocket for his wallet and then he’s pulling a foil packet from its confines. Tearing it open with expert precision, he rolls the condom onto his length and then he’s back, hovering over you once again. He grasps one of your legs, hand gripping the underside of your knee, and pushes it up towards your face, effectively spreading you open for him. He lines himself up at your entrance, teasing his cock through your folds a few times.

“Ready?” He asks, voice like gravel.

“Yes,” you whisper, anticipation like ice water in your veins.

He slips into you, torturously slow, inch by aching inch. Your hands run up his torso, landing on his chest and digging your nails into his supple skin. He hisses at the contact, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth and then he’s bottomed out, hips flush against your own.

“Don’t hold back,” you tell him, “give me everything you got.”

“I always do.”

Then he’s gingerly pulling back out and his eyes flit to yours—the last possible second for either of you to put a stop to this dancing between the two of you—and then he’s snapping his hips and setting a brutal, mind-numbing pace. You moan like a whore, you always do when Eddie fucks you. Your nails rake down his chest leaving scratches behind in their wake; Eddie doesn’t mind, he never has. He doesn’t care if you mark him, he likes the reminder that he fucked you so hard and so good that your first instinct was to scratch his skin all to hell.

“This is what you wanted,” he grunts, “what you needed, isn’t it?”

You nod, biting down sharply on your bottom lip. He hikes the leg he’s holding higher, changing the angle and you wrap your other leg around his waist, keeping him close to fuck you faster, harder, deeper.

“Nuh uh,” he reprimands, slapping his hand lightly against your cheek and then pulling your lip from between your teeth, “you know I like it when you tell me how good this feels for you.”

You scoff. “God, you love to be praised, don’t you? Have to be told just how much of a good boy you are.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth and you match his steely glare with one of your own. And then he’s smiling one of those wicked smiles he usually reserves for D&D when he surprises everyone with a hellacious plot twist. He shifts his position, pulling himself onto his knees and then he’s grabbing both of your legs and pushing them as far forward as he can, practically bending you in half. Your feet brush against the roof of the van and with one last smug grin, he resumes fucking you with such ferocity that it punches the air from your lungs.

“Oh fuck! Eddie- I- oh my God.”

Your breathless, brain completely frazzled and you can feel him everywhere, like he’s digging himself a permanent home underneath your skin. Your hands grapple against his chest, searching for purchase as his hips snap against yours brutally. He’s still got that wicked gleam in his eye and you know he’s got you right where he wants you. The head of his cock slams against your sweet spot over and over again and it has you screaming as pleasure courses through your body.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth, “you really gotta shut the fuck up. Don’t want people to hear what a whore you’re being for the freak, do you?”

You moan around his fingers, sucking on them in the same way you'd suck his cock and the mental image has him groaning as his eyes flutter closed. Victory swims through your veins at being able to unravel him so quickly. You slap his hand away, his eyes reopening to gaze back down at you. The wicked, smug gleam is gone and all that’s left is pure desire. The way Eddie looks at you sometimes stills your heart in your chest because why would he want to? You’re an absolute fucking mess most days. You haven’t been something worth wanting in a long time… but here he is, looking at you as if you hung the fucking moon.

You grin, shoving those thoughts from your mind. “Thought that’s what you wanted. Thought you wanted to hear me scream for you as you pummeled my cunt with your huge cock.”

Eddie lets go of your legs, allowing you to wrap them around his waist and then he’s covering you with his body, one hand pressed to the floor and the other tangled in your hair. His nose brushes against your cheek, breath hot against your ear.

“You say such nice things to me, sweetheart, and nice girls get what they want,” he whispers against your heated skin, “so why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?”

You whimper in response, his hips rocking into you at such a steady pace that it makes you want to burst. Your orgasm bubbles up inside of you, twisting tightly in your belly and you roll your hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, letting him take you higher and higher and higher until it feels like you’re floating above your body.

“Come on, Eds, make me cum.”

He untangles his fingers from your hair and brings them down to rub quick and firm circles onto your clit and with one last loud and elongated moan, you’re cumming on his cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, fucking you through your high and chasing his own release. “Shit, you’re so good for me, you know that?”

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you rake your nails down his back, keeping his body flush against your own. He thrusts one, two, three more times and with a choked moan, he finds his own release. The two of you remain in this position for a few moments, catching your breath and relishing in the post-orgasmic bliss hanging in the air. Gently, Eddie pulls himself up and out of you and then he removes the condom, tying it off and tossing it toward the back door to be disposed of later. He lays down next to you, head propped up in his hand while the other rests on your stomach.

“What are you thinking about?” He inquiries softly.

You shake your head, eyes trained on the roof.

“Hey,” he whispers, fingers dancing along your skin, “are you feeling okay?”

With a huff, you sit up and immediately grab for your clothes, pulling them back on as quickly as possible. Eddie sits up as well, eyeing you warily as he reaches for his own clothes. He’s not entirely sure what it is he’s done but he’s positive he’s gone against one of your rules. It’s not as if he meant to, he was simply concerned and like hell is he going to believe that being concerned for the wellbeing of someone else, someone as special as you, is going to be considered a character flaw.

“Can you stop for a second?” He asks gently.

You’ve already managed to pull all of your clothes back on. Pushing your hair wildly out of your face, you begin the task of lacing your Converse back up so you can get the hell out of here. It feels like you’re suffocating, like the fucking van is on fire.

“I don’t know why you keep doing this,” you mumble.

“Doing what?” He slips his shirt back on and then he’s leaning back against the side of the van, trying to keep as much space between him and you as he possibly can.

“Ruining things,” you snap, “you always fucking do this, Eddie!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me that!”

His eyes grow wide at the seething tone of your voice. You’ve finally slipped on your Converse and you snap your head over to stare him down. If he could get further from you, he would. The anger is rolling off of you in waves and it’s unbelievably stifling in this confined space. How did everyone go so wrong so fast?

“I have three rules, Eddie, and you agreed to those three rules, did you not?” You don’t wait for him to respond. “So I don’t understand why the fuck you keep going against them and why the fuck you’re always so goddamned surprised when it pisses me off!”

“Jesus Christ, is this all because I asked if you were okay?!”

“I don’t want you to ask me if I’m okay! I don’t need you to ask me! I am fine! I have been fine this whole time and I will continue to be fine. Okay?”

He shifts his eyes away from you, staring out the front windshield, muscle in his jaw jumping with tension. “That was a convincing lie the first few times you said it but it sounds a lot like bullshit now.”

“You don’t fucking know me,” you hiss.

“How can I? You won’t let me!” He turns his eyes back on you and he looks wounded, like you’ve ripped his heart out and crushed it right in front of him. “Your rules are bullshit! And the only reason they even exist is because you’re too afraid to let someone, let me, know you!”

You scoff, a bitter sound that runs over his skin like sandpaper. “We’re done.”

You shove the back door open and step out into the parking lot, inhaling copious amounts of fresh air to help settle your nerves. Eddie’s presence looms behind you like a shadow, like he’s the predator and you’re the prey. You start walking back to campus, refusing to look back his way. All you want is to go grab your things from your locker and get the fuck out of here, forget that you ever wasted a single goddamn second on Eddie Munson. The van door slams loudly.

“Are you still coming to Hellfire tonight?”

The question catches you off guard, stops you right in your tracks. Is he fucking serious? You slowly turn back to find him leaning against the side of his van, lighting a cigarette. Seemingly not a care in the world.

“What?”

“Are you… still coming… to Hellfire… tonight?”

He enunciates his question like a fucking asshole and it makes your blood boil. He’s not even looking at you, too preoccupied with his stupid cigarette. Coward.

“That’s what you’re concerned with?”

“Well,” he begins, taking a long drag of his cigarette, “since I’m not allowed to ask you about anything else, I figured falling back on D&D would be a safe option.”

You want to scream but it comes out as a humorless laugh. “Yeah, Eddie, I’ll still be there. Just because I’m no longer fucking you doesn’t mean I’m gonna fuck your campaign.”

“Jesus Christ,” he scoffs, tossing his cigarette to the ground and jumping into the driver’s seat of his van.

He doesn’t pay you a second glance as he peels out of the parking lot, leaving you behind in a cloud of dust. The wind gets knocked out of you fairly quickly after that and you’re not sure what exactly it is you’re feeling. It’s definitely not anger although you’re used to anger, you prefer anger. No, what you’re feeling is an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. Pain. It scorches through your veins like fire and you want to dig your nails into your skin and rip it out over how badly it burns.

But you can’t be feeling pain or sadness. Not about this. Not about Eddie. You haven’t felt pain like this since Billy died and you went numb fairly fast after his funeral because you cried so much. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be capable of feeling that level of pain again. But it’s not like Eddie died or anything; you’ll see him later and he’ll remind you all over again just how annoying he is when he cracks his jokes or captivates you with his enticing storytelling or looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

You sigh. Fuck.

The next few hours slip by in a blur and before you know it, you’re back at campus, halfway through another round of Eddie’s campaign. He barely glanced up at you when you had walked in, choosing to focus on getting everything set up. He didn’t even speak to you. It didn’t feel right; you usually showed up early anyway and you and Eddie would shoot the breeze and tease each other and laugh until everyone else arrived. But not tonight; instead, it was like a vice had twisted itself around the room and sucked all the air from it.

For as much as he ignored you when you first arrived, once the game got going, it was as if he had never been bothered about anything ever in his life. He was the same Eddie that he’s always been—eyes alight as he waits for the perfect opportunity to spring the next great plot twist on the group, a dazzling smile etched onto his face because he’s right where he needs to be, in his element. It makes your stomach twist and your brain go fuzzy. You want the game to be over.

And then it is and everyone’s clearing out in high spirits because tonight was a good run. Then it’s just you and Eddie left in the room and that vice from earlier is circling the room again.

“You were good tonight,” he says offhandedly, not looking at you, “you barely need help anymore.”

“Thanks,” you say, “I had a good teacher.”

An awkward silence falls over the room and you’re not sure what to do. Should you leave? Should you stay and help clean up? Should you say something? Should he be the one to say something? You remember all too well what long silences with Billy meant and usually you only needed to give him some time and he’d come around but Eddie isn’t Billy and you’re not really sure where to go from here. It frustrates you to no end and you want to cry but you also don’t because God forbid Eddie see you cry. The thought is unbearable. When you look back at Eddie, he’s already looking at you and his expression is unreadable.

“I’d ask if you’re feeling alright but,” he stops, sighs, “I really don’t want to fight with you again.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay. You were right.”

He nods. “I’m really not trying to be an asshole here but right about what exactly?”

“Everything,” you say, voice catching, “I’m not fine, Eddie. I haven’t been fine in a long time.”

He crosses the room in three long strides and suddenly you’re enveloped in a hug and it feels warm and nice and like home that a sob immediately erupts from you and then you’re clutching onto him like he’s the only thing keeping your feet on the ground.

“Shh shh shh,” he whispers against your hair, kissing your temple, “don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I screamed at you today,” you cry, pulling back to look at him, “that wasn’t cool.”

Eddie chuckles, looking at you like you could never do any wrong and you hate it. Hate that he’s so understanding, hate that he just gets it, hate that he’ll never ask you to be anything other than what you are. But what you hate most is that you don’t hate it, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“Come here, let’s sit down,” he says, pulling you over to the table and then you’re both perched on the side of it, turned towards each other, knees brushing and hands interwoven together.

“Look,” he says softly, “I shouldn’t have come at you like I did today—”

“No, Eddie, you—”

“No, listen, okay?” He searches your eyes, waiting to see if you’ll cut him off again. “Your rules are kinda intense sometimes… but I get it. What you went through, what you lost, I- I can’t even begin to imagine what it has been like for you. The pain I know that you felt, the pain I know you still feel. Sweetheart, I know it sometimes looks like I’m not paying attention but I am and I see the look in your eyes, you know what I’m talking about, when you disappear inside your own head.”

You nod, nibbling on your bottom lip. “It’s usually about that night, the night that Billy died. I think about it more often than I’d like, going over what happened and all of the ‘what ifs’. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he implores, “you loved him. I know that you did and I know that a part of you still does. There’s a part of you that always will and I never want to be the one to take that away from you. But I think that you’re scared—scared to let someone in, scared to love again, scared that you’ll end up losing it all again. And I- I really need you to know that I care about you so much, sweetheart, I mean, I- I’m so fucking in love with you and I think what scares you the most is the fact that you might love me too.”

You breathe a shaky sigh, a single tear falling from your eye which he brushes away instantly with a touch so gentle, it has you coming apart at the seams.

“I’m a mess, Eddie,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And to your surprise, he laughs, a full laugh that takes over his entire body. He stretches his arms out wide before you. “And what do you think I am? Perfectly put together?”

In spite of yourself, you smile; the kind of smile that lights up your whole face and makes his body grow warm at the sight.

“There she is,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Eds?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I do… love you, that is,” you whisper, trepidation flooding your body. “And I still get scared sometimes but I- I want to try to not be… with you, if you’re… okay with that?”

“More than.” He smiles. “Let’s be scared together, yeah?”

“And no more rules.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want that?”

“Yes,” you state resolutely, “I want to talk about anything and everything, I think it might help. And I want people to know about us, I don’t want to hide you away like some shameful secret cause I’m not ashamed. I want everyone to know that I’m yours and you’re mine and… and I want you to kiss me. All the time. Every chance you get.”

Eddie doesn’t waste a second. He immediately cups your face in his hands and brings his lips to yours and it’s everything you imagined it would be. He tastes like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and it’s gross but it’s him so you love it. You tease your tongue along his bottom lip and he eagerly opens his mouth for you to slip your tongue inside, kissing him deeper.

Your hands slip under the hem of his Hellfire shirt and you run your fingers along his bare torso, his abdomen tightening at your feather light touch. He chuckles lightly against your lips and lo and behold, Eddie’s ticklish and it makes you feel giddy that you’ve discovered something brand new about him.

You pull back suddenly, eyes blown wide and lips swollen. “I want you, all of you. The right way.”

His gaze darts around the room before landing back on you. “Here?”

“Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.”

“Then yeah, Eds, right here.”

He pulls himself back up to stand between your open legs and caresses his fingers up your thighs before making quick work of pulling your Hellfire shirt up and over your head. His eyes land on the front clasp of your bra and he eagerly unfastens it and pulls it from your body.

“Look at you,” you tease, pecking your lips against his jaw, “finding the clasp the first time around.”

“Hush.”

“Your turn,” you say and then you’re just as eagerly ripping his shirt up and over his head, exposing his ink splattered porcelain skin to you. “I just want to put my mouth everywhere.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You purse your lips in contemplation, tilting your head to look over towards his “throne”; the seat that is his and his alone, where he sits before you all like a king and commands the room. It sends a thrill straight to your core.

“Go have a seat,” you whisper, pushing him towards the chair. “But take your pants off first.”

He does, stripping himself of his Reeboks, jeans, and boxers and then he’s dropped himself down in this “throne”, manspreading for your pleasure. He looks like art come to life, bathed in the soft white glow of the overhead light, alabaster skin on complete display for your eyes and your eyes alone. You bite your lip and then slip off your Converse and shimmy your own jeans and panties down your legs. You cross over to him, hips swaying seductively, eagerly soaking up the look of absolute want that he sends you. Then you drop to your knees before him, eyes aligned with his hardened cock.

“Oh,” he breathes, “so this is what we’re doing.”

“No, this is what we’re starting with. Only fair after the two mind blowing orgasms you gave me earlier.”

“I aim to please, sweetheart.”

“And please you do,” you say sweetly, batting your eyes up at him, “now, let me take care of you.”

Before he has a chance to respond, you grasp his cock and lick a firm stripe from the base to the tip. He groans low in his throat, head dropping back against the chair and eyes screwing shut.

“Oh fuck me,” he whispers, “that’s good.”

You swirl your tongue around the head, lapping at the precum pooling and then you’re taking him fully into your mouth, sliding all the way down until your nose brushes against his pubic hair. You take a minute to adjust to the feeling of him in your throat and his thighs are tense underneath your fingertips. You hum once and his entire body spasms.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, “you’re so goddamn good to me.”

You hum again in appreciation and he groans. You glide slowly back up, tongue flat against the underside of his cock and then you flick your eyes up to meet his. Eddie’s staring back at you, mouth slightly agape, and eyes full of lust. No, not lust… this is love. Pure and true adoration. You grasp the base of his cock and begin bobbing your head at a steady pace, eyes remaining fixated on him. You may have admitted that you love him but it doesn’t mean you still can’t thoroughly enjoy just how quickly he falls apart for you.

There is spit dribbling from your lips and his fingers are tangled in your hair, keeping you somewhat in place as he shifts his hips to fuck your mouth. You hum around him again, letting the vibration course throughout his body and then he’s pulling you off his cock with a gasp.

“Okay, okay,” he grunts, breath shuddering, “I don’t want to cum yet so…”

“Got it.” You bite back a smile and then pull yourself up to straddle his lap. “Is this okay?”

“C-condom?”

“No, I want to feel you,” you blurt and then softer, eyes locking with his, “make me yours, Eds.”

“Shit,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back out of your face, “alright, sweetheart.”

You smile, melding your lips with his once more. Lining him up at your entrance, you bring yourself down, taking his cock fully in one fluid motion. You both moan into the kiss. One of his arms wraps around your waist while the other splays fingers across your upper back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands are resting atop his shoulders, using them as leverage to lift yourself up and drop back down, setting a steady pace.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he mumbles against your skin, lips trailing down your neck to your chest.

He tweaks your nipples between his fingers before he pulls one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak. Your nails dig harshly into his shoulders, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer. You throw your head back, a loud moan escaping your lips as you bounce fervently on his cock, bringing yourself closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

Eddie pulls off your nipple with a soft groan, hand coming up to brush against your cheek and tilt your head back down to meet his gaze. “I’m so close, sweetheart, tell me you are too.”

You nod, brushing his damp hair out of his face and resting your forehead against his. “Kiss me when you cum, Eds, please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, a choked sound that gets lodged in his throat. “Anything for you.”

You roll your hips faster, taking him deeper and you’re alternating between moaning like an absolute whore and chanting his name like it’s the only word you remember. His eyes remain locked on your face, letting you take control as you bring the two of you to release.

“Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, “kiss me, please kiss me.”

He surges forward, capturing your lips with his own and you’re teetering on the precipice. With one last hard thrust of his hips, you’re freefalling straight into the waves of bliss and Eddie cums shortly after with a groan so broken and loud, his warmth spreading through you. You continue to roll your hips, working you both through your high and then you’re opening your eyes to find him already gazing at you longingly.

You remain like that for a moment, basking in each other’s presence and then you’re both erupting into a fit of giggles because this feels right. You don’t feel like you need to hide from him anymore, like you could stay here in this moment with him forever and everything would be okay.

“I love you, Eddie,” you say so matter-of-factly that it makes your heart soar.

He blinks, a trademark Eddie smile pulling at his lips. The kind of smile that lights up a room and makes your heart skip a beat and breath stutter in your chest.

“I love you too. God, I love you so much, sweetheart.”

He kisses you again… and again… and again. You’re not sure what tomorrow holds or the day after that or the day after that and you definitely don’t know when the world is going to implode on itself again but at this moment, you’re not particularly concerned. Because you have Eddie and he has you and you’re not afraid anymore.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #writing by 's'

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nalyra-dreaming · 2 months

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I've been pondering two things lately 🧐 1. What do you think about "I serve a God" phrase now that we got little bits and pieces of s2? I feel like any theory is left unsupported for now.

2. That scene with Armand's fire gift in the tunnel. I wonder how it will play out. Will it be romantic "let me show you magic"? Was he contemplating an attack and then changed his mind? I hope it's the first one cuz I just imagine them in that crumpled space playing with fireworks like total kids.

Hey!

Ahhhh difficult;))

By now I think that it’s probably a mix of Marius and the shrine (and Those Who Must be Kept) … and adjunct to that maybe Lestat in a coma. Maybe. I mean... s2 is obviously with the book imagery Louis conjures in the second half of the book, sooooo... But "just" Lestat feels too easy by now, if that makes sense? Especially since it was done in front of a Marius painting. I... I lean towards TWMBK by now. Gut-feeling-wise^^

But there is no conclusive answer to that yet, I think. There's too many things still in flux, and too many things only hinted at.

Maybe we will know more after the "Rolin Jones" trailer. I mean... given how much there was in 30 seconds? :))) Imagine what there'll be in 4 minutes :))

And re the fire gift: That is so difficult as well. Because the scene in the tunnel was confimed by Levan Akin as a hommage to "The Third Man".

Now, The Third Man (and that tunnel):

"The chase sequence in "The Third Man" is another joining of the right action with the right location. Harry escapes into the sewer system like a cornered rat, and Reed edits the pursuit into long, echoing, empty sewer vistas, and closeups of (Harry) Lime's sweaty face, his eyes darting for a way out. Presumably there would be no lights in the Vienna sewers, but there are strong light sources just out of sight behind every corner, throwing elongated shadows, backlighting Harry and his pursuers."

It's a chase.

Now, we do not know yet if the one with the fire gift is helping... or chasing. (And I know most people think it's Armand (and I agree it looks like him)). So if we take this as Armand...

he is either priming to send the fire at someone else to "free the way" as it were... or

he is conjuring the fire to send it at Louis

IF it is the former then Armand is escaping with Louis, and helping him. I still hope Louis might discover his own fire gift while torching the theater, but we'll see. Louis could see Armand conjure his fire there and then look out himself.

Now, it is (book) canon that Armand influences and subdues Louis. (Here are some quotes.)

IF it is the latter (not saying it necessarily is, but if) then they will go significantly darker than in the book, one might say.

Which... is something they might be hinting at with this scene:

Because, let's face it, THIS Louis won't stand by meekly. THIS Louis will fight. THIS Louis won't take the shit (as easily). This Louis will have to be subdued in a different manner.

I'm not sure what I would prefer, either approach has a lot of interesting aspects, and carries repercussions.

Here, too... the full trailer might make some things clearer when we see it^^. We'll have to wait still and see^^.

#asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #fire gift #tunnel #the third man #levan akin #armand #louis de pointe du lac

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sweetheartmotives · 10 months

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🦅°Yandere Eagle Hybrid°🦅

Desc and possible Tw: The word Mate, Hints at sexual reproduction, crying, mentions of going high into the air, not specified consent to getting grabbed into the sky.

It's the 4th of July and I wanted to do something special! So introducing Harper, the yandere Eagle!!

[I made him a lil dumb!]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… spots you wandering in his part of the woods.

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… Swoops down From his cave high in the mountains To get a closer look.

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… seriously considered you food at first, but then saw your pretty lil face~

How precious…

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… couldn't get enough of you! He later figured out that you were volunteering for forest pick-up.

Cleaning my home..? What a perfect Mate.

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… Absolutely adores you! When He finally introduced himself, you were screaming in fear Happiness!

I'm so happy to see you too, my darling mate!

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… clings and cries when you don't spend atleast 90% of your time with him.

Loud whining and crying MATEEEE PLEASE STOP IGNORING MEEE

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… uses his talons and Flys you high into the air to watch the fireworks!

Oh, my dear Mate.. They're almost as beautiful as you.

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… can't help but be a little rough during bedroom orrr nest time. 0hhhh fuck.. mate ahhhh.. thankyouthankyouthankyou

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~My daily dose of ocs. Also, this was a little short so forgive me!! I felt as if I should post a holiday special! This is Harper the Eagle btw haha! He enjoys fireworks very much.

Anyways I hope you enjoy reading, This was so much fun to make!! :3

#yandere eagle hybrid oc #yandere #yandere male #male yandere #x gn #x gn reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere scenario #yandere oc #oc

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violettduchess · 4 months

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A/N: I'm going to just post these shorter little pieces one by one. Originally I was going to do one big headcanon but this is easier for me and my limited free time.

Reader x Leon, at the Holiday Market 🎄

WC: 650

Bright are the strings of holiday lights that illuminate the darkness with bold reds, glowing greens and festive gold. The Rhodolite Holiday Market is swimming in them, an entire sea of color against a stark winter’s night. Voices are raised in merriment, mugs of mulled wine and tankards of ale clink in earnest cheer and wishes of happy holidays. The air is buzzing with life. With possibility. With joy.

Leon watches you from beneath his black hood, the one that obscures his handsome and well-beloved face. If anyone were to recognize their prince, they would swarm him, wanting to treat him to a pint of this or a mug of that. So he keeps himself in shadow, watching you through his dark lashes.

You’re sipping a steaming cup of dark wine, seasoned with cinnamon and cloves, watching with eyes brighter than stars as burly men set up for the holiday fireworks display. Your cheeks are warmed by the drink and you unconsciously lick your lips, chasing the last drops of wine. His breath catches in his chest as the present moment, the now of it all, crashes into him: as a young boy, he used to roam this market, ordered by men with hard knuckles and rough voices to steal from innocent patrons, his young heart breaking each time he did. Later in life, he would sneak away from royal instruction and duty to hide among the happy faces of the townsfolk, free from a different kind of golden chain.

And now, later still, he is still at the same market. Not as a thief or a stowaway, but as a leader, mingling in secret with the people he has sworn to protect. And with you, an element to his story he never could have imagined. Never would have dreamed possible for someone like him. You who captured his heart and has held it close ever since, safe within the warmth of your love.

One of the big men leans forward, lighting the first fuse. You take a step back, into the circle of Leon’s strong arms, head already tilted up at the sky. He holds you against his broad chest, breathing in the scent of your hair, the familiar lavender and rose that still sends a fluttering of desire through his veins.

Above you both the sky explodes with a shimmering burst of red and green and he tugs you tighter against him, lowering his mouth to your ear, nipping at its tip before murmuring, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

Your near-empty mug is left on the corner of an empty stand. Leon pulls you away from the crowd gathered to watch the fireworks, away from the bright lights and glittery displays and towards the velvety black shadows of a narrow alley, his heart hammering in his chest, your soft laughter fanning the flames of want in his blood.

The crowd “ooohhs” as the sky explodes with a burst of golden shimmer. “Ahhhh” falls like a refrain from your lips as Leon bends down, seeking and finds the warmth of your skin. He trails open-mouth kisses down the line of your neck. He wants to give you a memory as powerful and satisfying as the one you have gifted him. The crowd gasps as the fireworks explode, one after another, leaving a tiny trail of bright white blossoms across the darkness. Your tiny, staccato gasps are swallowed by his hungry mouth, his talented fingers skimming their way across fabric, undoing laces and buttons until he is able to touch you there, please, right there, the place that has your legs buckling and your hands gripping his broad shoulders.

The finale: a sky painted in incandescent red and gold. Your eyes close, Leon’s kisses and touch painting your own vision in blinding white, your body a firework of its own, ready to surge towards its own brilliant finale.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @ozalysss @leonscape

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri leon #leon dompteur #ikemen leon #holiday fics #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

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ultra-raging-ghost · 2 months

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ahhhh bad heard a firework and thought it was boo, but boos never been this polter geist-y..... brand new ghost, who keeps spawning mobs, blinding him, smacking him around, opening doors and hanging bath robes in his house.......

#qsmp #liveblogging

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kayfeefgtrghh · 5 months

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Connor (RK800) x shy reader

Did I just write 2984 words? Maybe…

Body image is talked about here as well as other topics that might be sensitive. Read at your own accord. Also, apologies since this is the first fanfic I’ve written in over 10 years. The last 5 years I’ve spent writing university papers. If it’s not the best I’m sorry!

*Reader is addressed as ‘little girl’ and has long hair.

*Does include swear words but I’ve tried to censor them a little.

“Hank the paperwork is due today… And-“ His head tilts “detective? Your temperature is very high. Are you sick?” Putting his hand to my forehead. Throat dry, I try to speak but nothing comes out and stare at Connor, red in the face. Glancing to a friend hoping he can help but Hank just looks back at his screen. Great. I’m on my own. Well. “Yes” squeaks out before you feel a shoulder bump into my back. Sharp breathe in. Turning to make eye contact with Derrik Fedpilzt. He got off on me being quiet. Said I make a shit cop. Too fat, not smart enough, too slow, can’t keep my “female” emotions out of work. Looking down, surprised he kept quiet. I apologise before getting back to my desk. 2 close calls in one day was enough. Writing this report is such a waste of time. Its not like it’s real. I saw it. That deviant was protecting a child… It didn’t deserve to die. Email? Shit. Should I say something to Hank? No. No. I can’t be weak. I can do this. I can’t drag others into my own problems.

‘Don’t think I didn’t figure you out. Meet me in the carpark at 8pm tonight.’ – DF

I need to take my mind off of this. “Heyyyy Hank. Is that seat free?” pointing to his lap. He had such a priceless face before shaking his head mumbling, something about kids these days, under his breathe. Making me giggle. “Okay, but really, I’m going for coffee if you want some?”

“Yeah, Connor should be back soon.”

“Ahh I just meant the-‘

“Lieutenant. Detective.” Connor starts to which I just avoid his gaze and nod to my title. “My apologise for interrupting the conversation.”

“No worries, Connor.” Hank straightens his back, “we’re all heading for coffee.” Connor simply nods in reply to his partner. I try catching Hank’s eye but he just smirks.

-------------*Time skip to coffee shop*---------------

“Soy latte please.” Cringing at how quiet my voice just came out.

“Yes. I-I couldn’t pass up fireworks. It’s nostalgic. What about you both?” Hoping to get away from the spotlight. Hank finally feeling nice speaks up,

“Sorry can you repeat that for me please” the Barista inquires politely. "Soy latte. Thank you.” Connor interjects for me. All I can do is nod and smile shyly to the server while paying. Sliding into a booth opposite Hank. Connor right after me. Oh. My. God. I can feel his body so close to mine. Keep it together (y/n)! Fingers pulling my coat closer self-consciously. “I heard there is going to be ice festival with fire works tonight. Will you be going Detective?”

“Nah. Kid wants to go so maybe you could go together. Me and Sumo are watching sport, drinking, and sleeping at midnight.” Well… there goes him helping you.

“Ahhhh. No. I mean yes!. I’m- I- I… I just remembered I have a meeting soon, sorry. I’ll see you both around? I’ll meet you outside the office at say… 9pm?” Turning on my tail before they can speak.

---------------*Time skip to car park*-----------------

Skin going cold and fingertips numb, from the cold and the fact Derrik brought friends. I feel a hand around the back of my neck. “You know, if you weren’t so fat maybe I wouldn’t have bumped into you.” Coming into my face, I lean back instinctively. “Or maybe if you were smart, I would have seen you resign. Save the rest of us time picking up your slack. Which judging by your size is a lot,” erupting with laughter from his own comment. “You must have slept your way up with older guys because how else would sone with such a pathetic track record get in. You can’t write reports properly, can’t shoot because you think that what? Androids can have feelings. Ohh look at me I’m so desperate to be loved I’ll turn to something that can’t say no. Isn’t that right?” Not letting me speak, “you don’t deserve this job title, the badge, hell to live! You’re worthless. Undeserving, fat, ugly, stupid. Is there ANY good quality about you? No. Just kill yourself already to stop burdening others. This time, me and my buddies are gonna teach you a lesson on behaving like a good little girl.” Pulled back and shoved into a pillar. There’s laughter, I can hear it, but it blurs for a minute. Shit I feel something wet drip into my eyelashes. Hold the tears. Confront. Come on. “Hey! I said I was sorry. Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” another guy steps closer, “we don’t respect people like you. Spiting on my face. It had been bad before but never physical. He raises his hand and I turn to flip him over my shoulder. Thump. “You fc*king bit*h!” he wheezes out. Every muscle in my body feels like stone. He swipes my leg from under me as the others make a circle shouting “fight! Fight!”

“Wai-“ he straddles my legs. Hands instantly on my neck. Not like this. Please. Kicking, I try twist my hips. Gasping in air as I grip his wrists. “Enough Jake.” Another voice calls. The man above me lets go, standing and brushing off his jacket. Huffing. Before kicking my stomach and going off. The rest leave laughing and shaking their head with, “you showed her.” Coughing and feeling the air come back to me I push onto my arms. Shit! It’s 8:55! Connor. Legs shaking I push up and head up to the girls bathroom. The stairs make me feel so heavy. I can’t stop thinking about his words. He was right. I do burden others. I can’t drive. I have one of the lowest success rates. Am I really that unlovable? Do I just empathise with deviants because I see the hate in them as similar to the way people treat me?... Elbowing the door open I can help but say “shit” out loud looking at my reflection. Bloodshot eyes, since when have I been crying? And my neck. Jesus. How was I going to hide this from Connor?! But if I cancel, he’ll try ask why and I can’t lie to him. I pull the collar up and undo my hair. Lucky I’ve let it grow. Using it as a disguise I head out. “I’m sorry to keep you, had to talk to some colleagues from the lower floor before we left. Are you ready?” I feel him looking right through me. He wants to say something, but his LED goes yellow before red then back to yellow, “Yes detective.”

------------*Time skip to the ice festival*--------------

“SOOO beautiful!” I’m so thankful the weather is cooler outside to excuse me covering my neck so much and accommodating for my slower gate. My ribs really hurt now. But it was worth it. The snow glistened with the colourful lights. Children running around, giggling, as they have snowball fights. It was like a movie scene come true. The city really outdid themselves this year. I love winter. To be on the couch near my window watching the slow gently fall. Hot chocolate in hand and a nice, weighted blanket. Cozy. Safe.

I can feel eyes on me and look up to see Connor smiling, “I’ve never seen you look so childlike Detective.” I know it’s supposed to be an observation. I can’t help it. Thinking of it as an insult. A reminder I need to grow up. “Thanks.” Looking down at my feet. ‘Worthless… stop burdening others. He’s right.

“Ahh hey. How- How about going on the Ferris wheel? I can pay. My treat for driving.” He nods and we walk in silence. It’s eating away at me. “Hey. Connor? Do you have any fun facts on snow or winter? Festivals? I know Hank tells you to be quiet,” looking down blushing,” but I love when you talk all about things. He sprouts facts like, “the Sapporo Snow Festival started in 1950…” It was nice. His voice. His face. Errgh! I have such a bad crush on him. How couldn’t you? He’s smart, sweet, understanding, patient, fast, strong, and such a gentleman. I can’t help but stare. The light freckles sprinkled over his face. The piece of hair loose and flipping around in the elements. The small snowflakes sticking to his perfect brown hair. Those beautiful eyes I could get lost I for days. I’ve never felt this way about someone. Growing up focused on studies and work. Now for the first time, I look at someone and want to marry. To have children. To do domestic things with Connor. Have him look at me the way I look at him. Love struck as Hank put it. “Snow itself is just precipitation in the form of ice crystals. It originates in clouds when temperatures are below freezing point. It is currently 17.6 degrees Fahrenheit or minus 8 Celsius….” Putting up 2 fingers and paying for the tickets as he ramble on. Side track about drinks for winter festivals in different countries. “For example, in Japan, the initial festival I mentioned, they would drink something called Amazake. Dating back over 1,30 years. It comprises of rice fermented using aspergillus oryzae. The same fungus in natto. Its literally translation is sweet sake and has been described as a mellow sweet flavour…”

We step into the capsule and start our assent. Once we reached the top the breeze was beautiful. I had to take photos. To put on my wall. I lent forward, enjoying the breeze flow through the gaps and focus outside. Not noticing the silence from my companion. “It’s so beautiful don’t you think? I don’t normally like crowds but to see people enjoying themselves like this. It’s nice and the snow is always so- Connor?” His LED is red and I freeze. Following his line of sight. Blushing, I rush to cover the bruises, but he grabs my wrists. With the better lighting he’s seen it. The bruises. Does he think I’m weak. For a officer to get hurt so easily? He says my name sternly and my eyes flick between him and the floor. Jaw tensing and I can’t seem to swallow enough to take a breath. I rub my arm absently at the tense air between us. “Connor I can explain.” He just stares and helps me out before dragging me past the maze. We keep walking. His LED changing between red and yellow. His grips loosens and tightens as the snow crunches beneath us. It would be a nice sound if it weren’t for the anxiety.

He continues to lead me onto a path with no one around, under a streetlight, before turning to face me. Trying to catch a breath he doesn’t need. He just stares. “Connor?” It’s soft. But I know he hears. “Please. You’re starting to scare me.”

“Who?! Who did that to you?!” Flinching. Was he... mad? He’s an android, he shouldn’t react this way. “Are you deviating?” I whisper shout leaning in despite my fear. He’d never hurt me, right? His brows twitch and he tilts his head. Before his LED stays red. Stepping closer. “This isn’t about me (y/n). Who. Hurt. You. Names.” Now, as he stepped closer with each word, he’s less than a meter from me. I step back and avoid his gaze. “Why?”

“I want to protect you. Keep you safe and I can’t do that if you keep me out.”

“No. Why do you care? I’m just another human. Replaceable. Less intelligent. Less capable, so why do you pretend to care Connor? Because you feel you have to? Did Hank tell you to say those things to me? “I feel my eyes burn and voice break. “Maybe I should go home I’m sorry and end up dashing off as a ground walk past.

-------------------*Time skip*--------------------------

I’ve been avoiding Connor for almost a month now. I was so close to confessing. Or breaking down. Either way I can feel his gaze burn into me and the questioning looks when I just turn and walk away or leave a half-made coffee when he goes to make one for Hank. Speaking of Hank tried to ask about what happened but now I’m avoiding them both. Everyone. Today is the day. I look up, eyes set on Fowler. I get up and knock on his door. “Come in.” Walking into his office reminds me of this nature documentary show I watches where the deer ventured right into the lion’s den. Keep calm. He eventually looks up from my silence and awkwardly standing around. “Sit. What do you want?”

“I quit.” There it was. Those 2 little words. “This is my 2 weeks’ notice sir. I wish to ask if I can stay in the office for my last week. To finish up my reports.” He looks shocked but it quickly morphs back into a scowl. “Fine.” I nod before leaving. I did it. Letting the air out my nose I head back to my desk and put headphones on and begin typing. The day continues like this. Quiet. Efficient. Lonely. It’s what I deserve.

--------------*Time skip to the last day*---------------

Alcohol. Mans real best friend. Sure, dogs make me happy, but they don’t help you numb out life. The dread of not being able to get enough job. The feeling of worthlessness. Alcohol though. A miracle. Especially 10 drinks in. I don’t even know at this point if my thoughts make sense let alone the out loud stuff. Hang onnnnn. I know that hair. “Hannnnnnk! I shout and stumble my way to him. By himself thankfully. I smother him in a hug, and he just shoves me off. “God. I’m so sorry. I’m a shitty friend Hank. I mean… oh oh omg that dog is so cute!” Seeing a golden retriever walk past.

“What have you been ignoring me What happened between you and Connor?”

“Hmmm. I love him, Hank. Not that I don’t love you too but not in that way” giggling,” it’s just. I had a run in and some guys at the precinct beat me up so-“

“What?! When?!” He goes to stand, and I shove his shoulders to push him back into his seat.

“SHHHHH! Hank, I don’t know where I was up to now. Anyway, long story short. Perfect android, Ferris Wheel, found my bruised neck, Unrequited love, I got scared and listened to the voice in my head.” Nodding. “Wait no. Not like that. I meant the things the people said about me. They were right. That’s why today was my last day. I quit. I couldn’t stand to look at you. I know you’d be disappointed and Connor. Fu*k Hank, I’d kill for him. Do anything he asked. But we both know that’s stupid. He dese- derggkrves… ,” pausing and squinting as the word doesn’t come out right, “deserves someone better. He’s PERFECT and look at me.” Flinging my arms out and hitting someone in the face. “Oh” covering my mouth and turning. “I’m so sorry!!”

“Detective.”

“Connor… I- I want you to know what happened at the festival… me avoiding you. Wasn’t your fault.” His LED is rotating yellow still. He then hooks his arm with mine.

“You are intoxicated. I will wait to have this conversation with you tomorrow. I will take you home.” I pout and lean into his body. Giggling before shoving my nose into his chest and breathing in harshly before confessing, “you smell amazing.”

-----------*Time skip to next morning*----------------

“Owww my head.” Tripping as I tangle into my bedsheets. Faceplanting. Sighing I just lay there face down for a while. Remembering what I said last night. How much did he hear of my confession to Hank? “Detective. You are finally up. It is currently 1:39pm.” I stiffen. Looking up at the android like a dear caught in head lights. “I will cook breakfast while you clean up and then we can talk.”

“I remember you mentioning to Hank you like pancakes.” They look so unbelievably good.

“Thank you, Connor. For everything. I really am sorry.”

“I accept your apology. As to begin our discussion I would like to start with the most defining aspect. That you confessed your feelings for me last night to Hank, did you not?” At this I choke on my food. Coughing and red in the face.

“Yess.. Well- I did. But you don’t have to-“

“I like you too. More than as a friend. You were correct I have become deviant and these feelings these last months have been difficult. However, after talking to Hank he said it was love. It explains my rash and inappropriate reaction to your bruising and the reason I still feel angry now when thinking about it. “

“It was Derrik Fedpilzt and his friends. I tried to fend one off by flipping him onto his back. So, he chocked me. I was scared that you’d judge me. For not being able to defend myself. “

“Like I said before I want to take care of you and protect you. There has never been a time when I thought you were weak. Or flawed in any way for that matter.” He puts hind hand on the table between us. I look up before timidly reaching to place mine across the table too. He moves to cover mine and smiles that dorky smile. Realising I am finished he gets up to do the dishes, but I block him.

“Why don’t we cuddle on the couch for a while? I can do them later.” LED yellow to blue. Putting my plate on the sink before grabbing a blanket. Sitting on my old couch, snow just outside. This was perfect. I look up at him admiring the view and kiss his cheek. Maybe I deserve love after all.

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