#was debating whether or not to answer this and my friend convinced me it would be a good thing to put my foot down on

[otaku553]

Idk if u watch Bnha but i think u will love the Story right now it has over 60 Chapters.

As Yamato, Son of Kaido, heals from her wounds from a battle against her tyrannical father, a chance meeting with a injured boy in green opens her world. And that world, will change.The boy's name? Midoriya Izuku.

I mean absolutely no offense to the writer or the people who enjoy this fic but personally I get an ick every time I read she/her pronouns for Yamato, who is canonically trans. I’m sure otherwise I would really enjoy it, since Yamato is one of my favorite characters and I’m a fan of the bnha world as well, but,,, yeah

Yamato to me is such a powerful character in terms of the impact he has had on the fanbase. Especially as someone who presents usually pretty fem and has difficulty getting people to refer to me by my own preferred pronouns, I love seeing people acknowledge Yamato’s chosen identity :)

Thanks for the recommendation though!! Crossovers are my bread and butter, so if you find any other fics you think I might like, do feel free to send them my way!

[lustfulslxt]

hii can u do a smut femxmatt fic where they meet at a party and they like are kinda drunk and matt’s really flirty and touchy and they just end up fucking!! ty!!!

(kinda like ur party revelations one but maybe they’re both influencers or u could even do chris!)

Under The Influence - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : alcohol consumption, smut

a/n : i wrote this for chris bc as you said, i have party revelations for matt, and a friend of mine received a request just like this for matt. xx

—

Tie it up, put a chain on it

Make you tattoo my name on it

“Will you please come?” Sage begs, shaking my hand up and down, on the verge of a temper tantrum.

“You’re literally being ridiculous.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I don’t see what difference it would make if I were there or not.”

Sage has been asking me to go to this party with her for weeks now. However, my answer has been a constant no. I’m not a fan of parties, much less big influencer parties. Too much drama always stems from them; whether it’s so and so cheated, whoever’s beefing, they did this, they did that. They never fail to have some dumb shit pop off, hence why I’d just rather not go. I don’t need anyone attempting to ruin my reputation and career just for their own benefit, I’m good.

“Because you’re my best friend and I need you. You’re my hype man and wingman all in one. Please! Just this once! I’ll do anything!” She continues to plead.

I sigh, ultimately knowing I’ll cave, “This is the only party you’re going to convince me to go to. You know how I feel about being around a bunch of fake and dramatic fucks.”

She instantly starts jumping up and down, cheering whilst shaking my hands again. “We’re leaving in three hours, so make sure you’re ready. Also, we’re gonna uber so we can get fucked up.”

I just shake my head, not really looking forward to the night ahead of me. But maybe, just maybe, I can get drunk and enjoy myself. Dismissing my thoughts, I turn on some music and head to my bathroom to begin getting ready.

I take a long shower, thoroughly washing and exfoliating myself. I shave and do a hair and face mask, prepping myself for tonight. After getting out, I dry off and apply vanilla scented lotion to every part of my body.

Next, I slip on my undergarments and apply deodorant, then head to my closet to choose an outfit. It doesn’t take me long, before I choose a plain, black mini skirt and tube top with a long sleeve mesh dress paired over it that had gems scattered all over. I stick with a pair of black lace up pumps to go with my outfit. Sitting down at my vanity, I go through my makeup, debating on what kind of look I want. After pondering for a moment, I just choose a dark smokey eye with a basic beat. I line my lips with a medium dark brown and apply clear lip gloss, blending it all together flawlessly. For hair, I just stick with a basic blow out.

“Great! You’re ready!” Sage suddenly cheers from my bedroom door.

I look over and see that she’s fully dressed and ready to go, holding a bottle of vodka in her hand. Upon seeing that, my eyebrows raise.

“Why the face?” She asks, before registering it. “Oh, this! It’s for a little pregame. So, come on.”

I shrug and gather everything I need for tonight, placing it in my purse, then follow her downstairs. She already has two shot glasses set out on our dining room table, ready to be filled. Without another word, she fills both glasses to the rim with vodka, smirking at me as she raises her glass.

“Cheers to a great night!” She grins, clinking my glass with hers, both of us downing the harsh liquor.

My face contorts in disgust as the liquid flows down my throat, and I can’t help but cringe at the awful taste. Immediately, my chest is hot and I don’t want anymore. I’m not really a drinker, but I already know I can’t be sober in order to get through this night. We both take two more shots before our uber arrives and we’re heading to the party.

The driver talked our ears off the whole ride, so when we finally shut the doors of the black suv, we both sigh and fall into a fit of tipsy laughter. We’re not drunk, but neither are we completely sober.

Upon walking into the party, we’re met with a glowing red light, loud music, the smell of alcohol and weed, and a ginormous amount of people all chatting and dancing throughout the house.

“Y/N! Sage!” A voice calls out, directing our attention towards them.

It’s one of Sage’s friends, one I personally am not a fan of, but I know how to be nice. I shoot her tight lipped smile, leaving Sage to greet her.

“Hey! It’s been so long, how are you?” Sage asks, pulling her into a hug.

Before she can respond, I quickly interrupt, “Sorry, I’m gonna go get a drink.”

And with that, I’m making my way through the crowd of people, in search of the kitchen. It takes me about five minutes to get through everyone and I’m already slightly disgusted at the sweaty bodies and the lack of personal space. I’m not lying when I say parties aren’t my thing.

Finally being able to breathe in the less packed room, I deeply inhale and exhale, ridding myself of the building nerves. I walk over to the counter, grabbing a solo cup from the stack and browsing through the bottles of alcohol. I opt for an unopened bottle of vodka, not wanting to risk anything that may or may not have been tainted. I fill my cup up a little over half way, then turn towards the cooler to grab a chaser. More people have already piled into the kitchen, there now being less room to roam around. I reach into the cooler, grabbing the last can of pepsi, only for it to come up with another hand attached to it. My gaze trails up the veiny hand, following the arm it’s attached to, to observe who it is.

Bright blue eyes, pink lips, a sharp jawline, and wavy hair. A silver Vivienne Westwood chain hanging from his neck, sitting atop a white t-shirt that had a bear in a watering can, surrounded my grass and little flowers. Blue jeans and, last but not least, white air forces covering his feet.

He looks familiar. Hot, yet still familiar.

“Oh, hi.” He grins, snapping me from my thoughts.

That’s when I realize we’re both still holding the can, but I don’t let go.

“Hi.” I reply, my gaze set on his face.

“I think this is the last pepsi.” He points out.

I nod, raising my eyebrows at the obvious statement. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Pepsi’s my favorite.” He adds.

I can’t help the smirk that tugs on my lips, “Do you want a cookie?”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “I can’t have it?”

I only repeat his action and shake my head in return, pursing my lips to keep the smile from forming.

“Can we share it?” He asks, giving me puppy dog eyes.

And just like that, I’m folding. With a shrug, I pull the can from his grip. I open it up and dump some of its contents into my cup, then bring the can up to my lips, taking a drink all whilst holding eye contact. I notice him intently watching me, before grabbing the can and taking his own drink, licking his lips afterwards.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He questions.

I nod, biting my inner cheek, “And you are?”

“Chris.” He smirks, eyeing me and up and down. “Well, Y/N, we basically just kissed.”

I can’t help the loud laughter that falls from my lips, nothing less than amused at his statement. I can see the smirk on his face turn into a full blown smile as I try to catch my breath, recovering from the fit of giggles he put me in.

“That was corny.” I say, smiling at him with a shake of my head.

He tosses his hands up in defense, shrugging, “I mean, did we not?”

I don’t say anything, and bring my mixed drink up to my lips, downing all of it in one go. His eyes widen as he watches me. I don’t like alcohol, but I can manage. It doesn’t take long for it to take effect, on top of the shots I had earlier, I can already feel the warmth coating my insides. With a surge of boldness, I lean forward and place a small peck to the corner of his lips, swiftly pulling away and making my exit.

Just before I slip away, I turn back and flash him a smile, “See you around, Christopher.”

As the party goes on, I can tell the alcohol I’ve consumed has fully kicked in. The loud music is no longer bothersome, I don’t feel suffocated in the sea of people, and I feel good. It’s been around an hour since I’ve been here, and I’ve only ran back into Sage once. She’s off with her other friends, mingling around, and I’ve just been vibing.

I’ve seen Chris around, more times than I’ve seen anyone else. Unless I’m just fixated on him. It’s like every time I turn my head, my eyes are meeting his, and I never want to look away. Though, to save myself from embarrassment and humiliation, I force my gaze elsewhere.

After downing another shot, I make my way to the makeshift dance floor, and let loose. Under the Influence starts playing, and I can’t help but move my body to the beat, letting the rhythm flow through me. My hands make their way into my hair, my hips swaying in sync with the beat booming in my ears. Suddenly, I feel a warm presence directly behind me, causing me to spin around.

Hot and delicious.

Christopher.

“Hey, mama.” He slurs, a goofy grin showcasing across his lips.

He’s definitely invading my personal space, but I don’t even care. Especially when his enchanting scent is filling my nostrils, winding me in closer.

“Hello, Christopher.” I reply, my speech slightly incoherent.

“I knew you knew who I was.” He stammered, his body damn near pressed against mine.

“Mhm.” I hum in response, turning around and backing into him.

“You look good like this.” I hear his voice in my ear.

I grab his hands that were just barely grazing my waist, bringing them to fully grab my hips as I move into him. His large hands guiding me back and forth.

“You’re so pretty, it’s distracting.” He mumbles, his breath fanning my neck.

I can feel the goosebumps spreading, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

“You’re drunk.” I softly say.

He shakes his head, “I’m not drunk. I’m just intoxicated by you.”

Again, I’m bursting into a fit of giggles from something he’s said. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m drunk or if he just makes me nervous.

“You’ve been stuck in my head since I first saw you earlier.” He admits, stumbling over his words a bit.

I turn back around, looping my arms around his neck as we continue rocking to the music. His hands go up to my waist, pulling me into his chest.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask him.

He licks his lips and shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping, “You don’t wanna know.”

Instantly, my eyebrow raises, “Try me.”

“I see you flipping your hair around and all I want is to wrap my hands in it while you’re taking my cock.” He states, his voice low and husky.

I immediately feel heat rush to my core, the sound of his voice and the words he’s saying, turning me on. I bring my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down on it to prevent the large smile that’s close to taking over my face.

“What if I was thinking the same thing?” I ask, the grin breaking through.

“Will you freak out if I kiss you?”

Looking up into his eyes, I subconsciously scoot closer to him as I shake my head. His eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, then he slowly leans in. The second his mouth meets mine, my eyes flutter shut and I’m savoring the feeling of his soft lips on my own. One of his hands reaches around me and cups my ass while his other one is wrapped around my throat, pulling me impossibly closer. As our lips mold together, I find my hands in his hair, my arms holding him into me. The kiss is desperate yet soft, passionate yet hot. He pulls away, his face only centimeters in front of mine.

“Follow me.” He says, his breath slightly heavy as he intertwines our hands.

I do as he says, following closely behind him. We walk through the kitchen, dodging everyone in our way. We round the corner to a staircase leading downwards. He pulls me in front of him, ushering me to go down.

“After you.” He says, holding his arm out for me.

I shoot him a look, before grabbing his hand and walking down the stairs, him following in suit. We get to a door that he opens for me, nodding to enter. It’s a large bedroom, quite tidy in itself, and I can smell his scent wafting through the air. Only now did I realize this is his house. As he shuts the door, I walk around, taking everything in. My hands trail across the edge of his bed, feeling his comforter beneath my fingertips.

“Do you like my room?” He asks.

I turn around to face him and he has a soft, innocent look upon his features. However, I can already see right through him. I know what’s about to take place.

“I do.” I nod, “It’s very neat, and it smells good.”

“Thanks.” He grins, strolling over to me.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was your party?” I ask him, sitting on the end of his bed.

He shrugs, “Why did you pretend you didn’t know who I was?”

I toss my head back, soft giggles pouring out of my mouth. I look at him with a cheeky smile and low eyes, shrugging my shoulders. He just grins at me, before kicking his shoes off and nodding towards mine. “You can make yourself comfortable if you want.”

Within seconds, I’m unstrapping the uncomfortable heels and setting them aside. He lays back on his bed, his legs dangling off the side. He grabs my hand and gives it a soft tug, so I copy his actions, and lie back. We’re both facing one another, drunk and happy.

“How come I’ve never seen you at any parties?” He questions, his fingers playing with mine.

“I’m not really a party girl. Definitely not an influencer party girl.” I admit, warmth building in my stomach at his soft gesture.

“Well I’m glad you came to this one.” He says, staring into my eyes.

“Why’s that?” I smirk.

“Because who knows if I would’ve met you had you not.”

I can’t help the blush that pools to my cheeks at his response. He’s flattering and he knows it. I don’t say anything, I just take in his features for the millionth time tonight. His hair slightly out of place from my roaming hands, his face flushed from the heat upstairs, his eyes lidded from the alcohol in his system, his pretty pink lips looking oh so kissable. He looks so good. Without a word, he pulls me closer to him, my body flush against his.

“Is this okay?” He asks me, trying to read into my facial expression.

“It’s perfect.” I nod, enjoying the warmth he’s providing.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers, his breath fanning my face due to our short proximity.

A smile sneaks onto my lips as I look down, attempting to hide the red color that’s now adorning my skin. His large hand grabs my chin and lifts my head so that he can see my face. Our eyes meeting in an intense gaze, holding it for what seems like forever. He only breaks the eye contact when he puts his lips on mine again. It’s only a soft, chaste kiss.

“So pretty.” He says again, his voice low as he continues to press gentle kisses onto my lips.

The delicate kisses turn into feverish ones, our tongues now gliding in and out of one another’s mouths, lapping each other perfectly. Our lips move together so well, like we cannot breathe without each other. My hands return to his hair, softly tugging it, eliciting low groans from him. One of his hands cups my cheek, the other one resting on my lower back, pulling me even more into him. He flips me over onto my back and hovers above me, staring into my eyes once more as a small smile takes over his face.

“God, I can’t get enough of you.” He groans, smashing his lips into mine again.

One of his hands rests on the bed by my head, the other one rubbing my outer thigh. Just his soft touches are enough to make my skin hot beneath his fingertips. My hands connect with the hem of his shirt, lifting it slightly and running my hands up his torso. He breaks from the kiss and removes his shirt, tossing it on the floor, then reconnecting our lips. He’s positioned between my legs, his groin inches above mine. My hands continue roaming along his torso, feeling his hot skin. I bring my legs up, hooking around his waist, pulling him down into me. His clothed erection presses into my heat, causing a low moan to leave my lips.

“Are we really doing this?” He pulls back and asks, his fingers playing with the hem of my dress.

“Yes, please.” I answer, my voice soft and breathy.

He grinds down into me, his hard on hitting exactly where I need him, causing another moan to leave my mouth.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you.” He groans into my ear, leaving a wet kiss on it.

I shudder in pleasure as he continues down my neck, sucking and biting, marking me up. I reach down for his dick, palming it over his jeans. He lets out a low moan, bucking into my hand, before harshly grabbing both of my hands and pinning them above my head.

“You first.” He mutters, holding my wrists with one hand while his other one travels down my body.

His hand swiftly makes its way between my legs, my dress riding up as he kneads my thighs. Then, he’s rubbing my core through my underwear. Hums of pleasure come from me, and I can feel them growing wetter and wetter.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, his voice raspy as he looks into my eyes.

“Y-yes.” I answer, moaning louder as he presses harder into my heat.

“So good using your words, mama.” He groans, licking my neck.

He then pokes his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly pulls them down my legs, discarding them to the side. He spreads my legs again, my dress and skirt now sitting completely on my hips. He throws his head back at the sight of my pussy glistening with my arousal. Without another word, his face is hovering above my center, his warm breath hitting it. I can feel myself clench around nothing, desperate for any type of stimulation.

“Look at you. I haven’t even done anything and your pretty pussy’s begging for me.” He smirks, his fingers now prodding at my folds.

Now coated with my juices, he runs a finger over my clit, rubbing in soft circles. I’m physically writhing beneath him, so badly needing more. He then thrusts a finger into me, causing my body to jerk and my mouth emitting a loud gasp. He continues pumping it in and out of me, then adds another and doing the same with it. My hands squeeze the bed sheet beneath me, attempting to release the tension building. His fingers are moving so fast in and out of me, curling in the right places. My mouth falls open, my brows furrowing as pleasure overcomes me.

“You look so pretty coming undone like this.” He says, peppering kisses all over my thighs.

“Feels s-so good, daddy.” I moan out, clenching around his fingers, unaware of the name that slipped from my mouth.

His eyes are completely black as he stares up at me, watching me fall apart. His dick is rock hard, throbbing and impatiently waiting to be inside of me. Without a second thought, his lips are wrapped around my clit, sucking on it as his fingers fuck into me. That alone is enough to push me over the edge, my legs shaking as I let go, giving into the building pressure. I feel my cum ooze out of me, quickly being slurped up by Chris, tasting every drop of me as his fingers help me through my orgasm.

“Mmm, you taste so good, ma.” He says, licking my lips.

He pulls his fingers out of me, coming back up to hover over me, shoving them in my mouth. I moan around his fingers, sucking my own juices from them. He harshly grips my jaw, slamming his mouth onto mine, the taste of me lingering on our tongues.

Breathless, he pulls away and stands up, pulling me to the end of the bed by my ankles. His hand travels up my leg from my foot, tenderly squeezing along the way.

“Can you stand up?” He asks, softly rubbing my hip.

I nod and scoot to the edge, standing up on shaking legs and looking up at him. He cups my face, brushing my cheek with his thumb. He plants a sweet kiss on my lips.

“Take your clothes off.” He says, his tone firm.

I happily oblige, stripping from my clothes as he does the same. I watch as his dick springs from its restrictions, hard and throbbing. Just from the look of it, I know I’m in for a treat. He strokes himself as he looks over my body, licking his lips. He steps in front of me, his member poking into stomach. His hands run up and down my body, pressing kisses into my neck.

“On the bed, on your knees.” He demands.

I do as he says, and he follows behind me, holding me up with his hand on my throat. His lips meet my neck, sucking and biting all over it, causing soft whimpers to leave my mouth. He pushes me forward, laying me flat on my stomach. He leans over me, licking and nipping my back, leaving a warm trail of saliva. His hands part my thighs, squeezing himself in between them. I can feel him run his tip between my folds a few times, causing me to push back in anticipation. He pushes me back down, slowly sliding himself inside me.

“Ugh, fuck.” He moans, bottoming out.

“You’re so big, daddy. Feels so good.” I moan, feeling him slowly thrust in and out, filling me so nice.

His strokes start slow and hard, before the speed picks up. His hands are on my back, holding himself up as he fucks into me at a delicious rate. I can’t help the moans that continuously fall from my mouth, feeling nothing but never ending pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, mama.” He groans out, fucking into me deeper and deeper.

It doesn’t take long for me to feel the buildup in my stomach once again. His hand wraps around my hair, tugging back as he leans over me once more. His mouth comes to my neck again, leaving wet kisses. I can hear his heavy breathing and low moans in my ear, and they’re driving me insane.

“Feels like you were made just for me.” He whispers. “I knew you would feel good, but this is better than I imagined.”

“All yours.” I babble, ridden with pleasure.

“You’re so tight, I can’t take it.” He moans, his voice holding a rasp to it.

I clench around him, feeling seconds from giving into my orgasm. A string of moans and curses fall from my lips, pure bliss coursing through me.

“You’re about to cum, I can tell.” He says, “Let it go, baby. Cum for me.”

And just like that, I’m releasing all over his cock with the loudest moans. His thrusts start to grow erratic, indicating he’s close to finishing as well.

“Such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, mama.” He moans out, thrusting harder.

Within a few more strokes, his dick twitches and his hot load is spurting into me, lewd groans emitting from his mouth. He pumps a few more times, riding out his orgasm, before slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of me. He collapses next to me, breathing heavily, looking me in my eyes with a goofy grin. His face is flushed red and his hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead.

“That was amazing.” He breathes.

Unable to form words, I nod in agreement. His hand interlocks with mine, gently squeezing as his other hand brushes my hair out of my face.

“God, you’re so pretty, Y/N.”

I bashfully smile, “Thank you.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asks, his eyes shining with hope. “We can shower and you can wear some of my clothes.”

I ponder for a second before shrugging with a nod, “That sounds perfect. I’ll just have to let Sage know.”

He smiles, brightly, pecking my shoulder over and over as he pulls me into him.

“You’re never getting rid of me now.”

—

a/n : this took me entirely too long to finish, so sorry ab that!! also not proofread, as per usual. hope you enjoyed this!! continue sending in reqs and i promise i’ll get to them eventually <3

[tastefulstars]

And I fell, I fell

Throw together a last minute cancellation, a helpful Robin and list of questions, and you've got yourself the romance of the century.

eddie munson x f!reader

c/w: 18+ only. MDNI. smut and fluff. so much fluff. mutual pining. eddie being a cutie. no y/n. protected sex. piv. oral (f receiving). not proof read.

a/n: eddie is a hopeless, gross romantic and u cant convince me otherwise and this is 7.6k of me proving myself correct.

masterlist

Your phone ringing startles you out of your daze, making you jump slightly in your chair. Reaching for it, you don't bother to look at the caller id.

"Oh you're alive, that's nice" Robin's voice cheerfully says, you blink rapidly at your computer screen.

"Why wouldn't I be alive, Robs?"

"I dunno! Maybe because you've been MIA for the past five days!"

You can hear the frustration and concern in her voice and you immediately feel guilty. You sigh softly and rub at your eyes.

"I'm sorry, Robbie" You murmur, "Work's been a lot."

"I worry about you" She confesses, "Like, have you even been eating? Sleeping? What's so important you've got to check out for nearly a week?"

You scrunch your face up because, she's right - you've been doing the bare minimum but you weren't going to admit that.

"I'm fine, really. Just been editing a few of the interviews I did last week and then this morning I had someone bail out at the last minute so I'm trying to find a replacement to do the interview at the end of the week."

Robin hums.

"I'm coming over"

She hangs up before you have a chance to respond and you shake your head. Standing, you groan as you stretch your arms over your head before you decide to just call it a day and have a shower.

The warm water feels heavenly on your stiff body, and you let yourself relax under the spray. You're just stepping out of the shower, steam filling the room and wrapping a towel around you, when there's persistent knocking at the door.

You debate for all of three seconds on whether to answer or get dressed, ultimately deciding to let Robin in first, knowing that she'd just knock harder and louder until you did.

She pushes her way in as soon as the doors cracked open an inch, she closes the door behind her and starts pushing at your shoulders.

"Get dressed, Jesus"

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, muttering about bossy, annoying friends. You shuffle to your room though, pulling on soft jeans and a shirt and make your way back to Robin who's curled up on the couch and cradling a can of soda in her hands.

"Alright, sit" Robin says, patting the space beside her and you throw yourself heavily down next to her, resting your cheek against her shoulder.

"You okay?" She asks, pressing her cheek against the top of your head and you nod softly because yeah, you were fine, just busy and tired and overworked. She holds the can to you and you take it, sipping at the bubbly drink. An arm wraps around your shoulder and you feel yourself go boneless against her, relaxing for the first time in days.

"Work sucks at the moment" You admit, leaning on your friend, "I've got so much to do and now I'm gonna loose the venue for Friday because the person I was interviewing cancelled on me and like, I can't afford that you know? It's expensive and I just, I don't know what I'm gonna do Robbie"

"Anything I can help with?" She asks softly, "I can't really do much for editing videos and whatever but, yeah."

You feel a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"You don't happen to want to be interviewed?" You tease, "Could start a new series where I interview my friends instead of like, famous people"

You're joking, knowing that Robin would kinda hate being in front of a camera while you ask her questions about herself but you could see it working - making it a silly little thing where you just have fun with it, rather than the serious interviews you've been stuck doing.

"God no" She laughs for a moment before pausing, "But, I could ask Eddie?"

"Hmm? What's Eddie got to do with this?"

"Eddie Munson, y'know Corroded Coffin?"

You scrunch your nose slightly, pulling back to look at her.

"You mean to tell me that your high school band friend Eddie is the same Eddie from that massively popular metal band? And don't they refuse to do interviews, like, all the time?"

"Yes and yes, it's something about wanting to focus on the music rather than them but he'd do it if I ask nicely."

You chew on your lip, considering it. It would be a massive help, having someone to actually interview and that someone being notorious for refusing to actually participate in interviews but at the same time, you don't want to put Robin out or Eddie.

"Look, I'll ask, the worst thing is he'll say no and if that's the case, I'll do the interview." She says and you feel a weight lifting off your chest, you lean back in to wrap yourself around her.

"Thanks, Robin" Your voice is muffled by her shoulder but she squeezes you back.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon watching shitty videos and snacking, and you feel more relaxed than you have in weeks. You murmur your thanks as you hug Robin goodbye and laugh softly at her stern warning of no more work today, her finger pointing at your face. You agree, considering ordering take out and having an early night.

You're wrapped up in a soft blanket on the couch, lights low and a movie you're not really watching when your phone buzzes.

Robin: Eddie's agreed to do the interview. send deets.

to Robin: You're an angel amongst men, Robin and I love you.

Robin: ur right, I am. love u 2.

You send her the address and times and thank her about five more times before you put your phone back down, and focus back on the movie and you're not too sure when your eyes slip closed and you're asleep.

The next couple of days fly by in a daze of editing and deciding the direction of the upcoming interview. You didn't want it to be stuffy, overly serious and god forbid, boring, so you pester Robin for little tidbits of information about Eddie and you find yourself racing around your apartment the morning of to get ready.

You've never really seen photos of Eddie from Band but you have seen photos and videos of Eddie from Corroded Coffin and you knew he's hot and while you didn't want to come across as unprofessional, you wanted to look good so you spend extra time styling your hair and making sure your outfit fit just right.

Loading your car up with your equipment and set-up took longer than you'd like and by the time you're pulling up to the building, you've only got thirty minutes before Eddie was due to arrive. You rush through set up and you wish you had an assistant for days like today.

A soft knock against the wall and your name being called startles you. You let out a quiet noise of surprise and whip around to see Eddie, smiling wide at your reaction, and your heart stutters. You knew he was handsome, you knew that, but the photos and videos didn't do him justice.

Tall and wrapped in black denim, cotton, silver chains and rings. His hair was curled to perfection, soft and silky, wide brown eyes and plump limps and you realize you're staring and not saying anything.

"Eddie, right?" You gesture to one of the chairs you'd set up, "Thank you so much for doing this, you and Robin have saved me a lot of grief"

He saunters over to you, smiling warmly before sitting in the chair. You almost get lost in watching him again but you force your eyes away, not wanting to be a creep.

"Ah, it's alright. Had nothing better to do today, to be honest."

And god his voice, you wanted to hear it all day. Wanted him to whisper nothings into your ear and you feel yourself flushing at the desire running through your veins.

You turn, scolding yourself for your reaction and get to work turning on the lights, camera and audio recorders.

"Still, I appreciate it. Will you be okay putting your mic on or would you like help?" You ask as you open the case, pulling out both sets of microphones.

"Hmm, might need some help"

You look over your shoulder and he's watching you intently, and you're really not sure how you're going to do this interview without coming across as desperate.

"Sure, here-" You step closer to him, holding out the microphone and wire, "This bit goes up under your shirt and clips onto your collar"

His fingers brush yours as he gently takes it from you, lifting his shirt slightly to feed the wire under it. You hold your breath and avert your eyes when you see a flash of pale skin before you do something stupid like telling him you'd like to lick him all over.

"Like this?" He asks, and you force yourself to bring your eyes down, nodding as he clips the little microphone to his shirt and smooths his hands down his chest.

"Yeah, um- I'll just clip this to your belt, if that's okay?"

He looks up at you from under his lashes and nods, smiling like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. You turn it on and see his jaw clenching in the corner of your eye as your fingers brush at his skin as you work.

"Alright. All set, I'll just finish getting ready - I'll just be a minute" You say in a rush, turning back to the table and putting your own mic on.

"No rush, honey"

And oh god, the pet name has your blood singing. Your hands shake slightly as you take a couple of deep breaths and scold yourself with a stern behave yourself, you're here for work not to hook up, he's doing you a favor so cut it out.

You shake your head slightly and move to turn on the camera. It's almost easier, looking at Eddie through the camera screen as you focus it and you suppress a shudder when you realize he's watching you closely.

You suck in a deep breath and pick up your notes, moving to sit beside him.

"Alright, you good to start?"

His smile returns and nods, shifting in his seat in order to face you. You do your intro, facing the camera and watching Eddie from your peripheral and then your turning, facing him and wanting to whine at how pretty he is. You let your work wash over you, focusing on the interview.

"Thanks for being here today, Mr. Munson. Tell me, how are you? What's been happening?"

"Eddie's fine" He says, laughing softly, "Mr. Munson is my uncle. I'm good, I'm good. Honestly? I should be working on some new songs but I'd rather not."

You nod, humming.

"Look that's fair - You used to play D&D, why?"

He looks a little surprised at your question, like he wasn't expecting anything else besides his music.

"Oh yeah I did. It was just fun, y'know? Like my friends and I got to go on epic adventures."

You try your hardest not to let the grin overtake your face but it's so, so hard.

"That's kinda nerdy but like what do I know? I make silly videos for a living. Do you still play or has that ship sailed?"

"Ah, I'd like to but I don't get as much free time these days and all my friends I play with are all over the place."

"Bummer. What's the best way to eat marshmallows?"

You keep the energy going, slinging more and more absurd questions at him without letting him gather his bearings but Eddie's grinning, enjoying the quick fire questions and your snide comments at his answers.

"Now. This is a serious question and I will judge you for your answer if it's incorrect."

He shifts, face serious and leans slightly towards you.

"Would you rather be eaten alive by a werewolf or have a vampire stick a straw in your neck and drain you like a capri-sun?"

Eddie breaks out into giggles and you feel your insides wobble and you school your features, biting your tongue and raise an eyebrow.

"Definitely being eaten alive" He wheezes between his laughter, "I might as well go all out if I'm gonna die."

You purse your slips, looking down at your notes primly.

"Correct."

Eddie laughs harder, eyes shining when you look back at him.

"Alright, last question - what's the plan for the rest of the day?"

He rubs the back of his neck, he looks at you and you think maybe there's something in his face, in his eyes as he glances at you.

"No real plans, might grab something to eat."

"Right on, free as a bird."

You close the video and slide out of your chair, turning off the camera and beginning the pack up. Your eyes flicker to Eddie and you smile softly, moving to him to help remove his mic.

"Thanks again for this, Eddie. I know you don't really do interviews much so I didn't want to make it awful for you"

His fingers find the soft skin of your wrist when he hands you the mic set, pressing against your skin.

"I had a lot of fun" His voice is low and rumbles and you feel your chest erupts with butterflies.

You shuffle back, throwing a smile over your shoulder and continue to pack away your equipment.

"Want a hand?" Eddie's says, right behind you and you can feel his warmth seeping into your back. You bite your lip.

"Nah, it's all good! It's not that much" You try to keep the tremble out of your voice, "I'll um, let you know when the video's up? It should be maybe a week or so."

You hear him inhale and then hum softly.

"Perfect."

You step around the table, putting a bit of distance between the two of you before you do something really really dumb and proposition him. Eddie shoots you a small smile, fiddling with his rings and you think he might be nervous.

"I'll, um, see you around then?" He asks, taking small steps backwards towards the door.

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you" You try to smile warmly as you say your goodbyes while all you'd like is to beg him to stay longer.

"You too, honey. I've heard a lot about you."

And then he's gone and you throw yourself down on one of the chairs, face in hands and you let out a whine.

"God damn it, Robin" You mutter before huffing and dragging yourself to load your car.

You're tired and sore when you finish unloading the car back at your apartment and you grunt as you throw yourself onto the couch, propping your feet on your coffee table.

Your phone buzzes.

Unknown Number: Hey honey, it's Eddie. I hope it's okay but I got your number from Robin.

Unknown Number: I just. I really had a good time today. I usually hate doing interviews but you made it a lot of fun.

You save his number and quickly respond, heart in your throat and fluttering in your stomach, hating how much you wanted his attention.

to Eddie: Eddie, hey! Yeah that's fine. I'm glad you had a nice time :)

Eddie: Very much so. Did you get everything packed and get home alright?

You start chewing on your lower lip as he responds almost instantly, not wanting to seem overly eager, you send a text to Robin instead.

to Robin: ROBIN what the FUCK????

Robin: ur welcome :)) he thinks ur hot btw and like ur both my friends so dont fuck it up.

to Robin: thanks!!!!! no pressure at all with that!!!!!!!!

Robin: :)

You start chewing on your thumbnail and open Eddie's messages again, responding with an affirmative and asking how his afternoon went before tossing your phone to the other side of the couch, kicking your feet.

You feel like a teenager, heart pounding and cheeks hot and chest feeling three sizes too big. You wander around your living room, shaking your hands and deciding to just go about your evening routine - making dinner and showering and watching a movie.

Your eyes drift to your phone every few minutes and you groan, giving in and picking it up.

Eddie: I ended up going straight home, been watching some of your interviews ;)

Eddie: What are you up to? Busy night?

to Eddie: Oh god, don't do that. They're all very boring.

Eddie: Ah but I get to watch a pretty lady tearing apart a bunch of dummies who don't realize they're being insulted.

Your face heats again and you place your face in your hands and let out a very embarrassing noise. You lift you head, staring at your phone and take a rough, deep breath. Eddie was going to kill you, you were sure of it.

You feel like a silly teen with a crush as you text with Eddie for the rest of the evening, his flirting making you want to screech out loud or melt or something.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.

You're a little scared to check your phone the next morning, a whole bunch of what if's running through your mind, but a soft ding brings you out of your mind and you couldn't stop the lovesick smile if you tried.

Eddie: good morning, hope you have a good day

to Eddie: you too :)

You spend the rest of the day trying to focus on work, on finishing the editing of your previous interviews and starting on Eddies, but it's hard going when all you want to do is text the man. Taking a quick break, you lean over the bathroom sink and stare at yourself in the mirror. You frown at your reflection.

"Get your shit together" You snap at yourself, "You're not a teenager with a crush, you are a grown woman so act like it."

You sigh and pull yourself away, sitting back down at your desk.

"Alright. We've just got to finish these two interviews, we can totally do this. Totally, they're like ninety percent done already."

You nod at your pep talk and get back to work, newly found focus coasting you through the last few hours of editing for the day.

It's starting to grow dark by the time you save your work and shut down for the day. You feel lazily satisfied from finishing the task you set for yourself for the afternoon and more than ready to publish the videos and transcripts onto your social media sites. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a soft groan as your back pops.

Picking up your phone, you bite your lip at the messages Eddie had sent you throughout the day.

Eddie: dont work too hard today but kick ass at work today

Eddie: im attempting to write new songs but i dont wanna y'know?

Eddie: i went to get groceries instead. saw a cat :)

Eddie: dont forget to eat lunch

Eddie: ok ok im gonna try to work wish me luck lol

Your stomach growls at you and you realize you did forget to eat lunch again, you groan and start dinner. Sitting on the couch with your plate, you send a message to Eddie.

to Eddie: Sorry, been pretty busy today but i managed to finish up a couple projects and im ready to start working on your interview tomorrow. Did you end up getting any writing done?

to Eddie: And what type of cat was it?

It doesn't take long before your phone is buzzing beside you.

Eddie: she lives! im glad you had a productive day, one of us needs 2 lol and u dont need to edit our interview its already perfect. I wrote like 4 lines of a song.

Eddie: i took a photo of the cat, i'll send it 2 u.

You laugh softly at his messages, his writing getting lazier the more you two talk, not that you mind. The photo comes through and you coo, the cat was incredibly fluffy and stretched out over a brick fence, fast asleep.

Your eyes burn as you look at your phone, a result from staring at a computer screen all day, so you take a deep breath and press call.

"Hey honey!" Eddie's voice filters softly through your phone, "Didn't expect a call to be honest, it was the cat right?"

You laugh and let your eyes slip closed, laying down on the couch and placing the call on speaker phone.

"Absolutely," You hum, "It has nothing to do with my eyes hurting-"

"Aw, you okay? Need anything?"

You can hear the concern in his voice and something inside you swells.

"Nah, I'm good. It's just from being on the computer all day, y'know?" You rub your eyes, "Anyway, what are you up to?"

There's a slight pause before he answers but then he's telling you that he's trying to decide on dinner, weighing up pros and cons of cooking verses ordering in and then he's launching into a tangent on life skills and capitalism.

You let his voice wash over you and you find yourself relaxing until you're almost asleep, drifting in the in-between.

"Still with me baby?" Eddie asks softly, his words not really registering but you hum at the sound of his voice, making him chuckle quietly.

"Go to bed, honey." He croons at you, "We'll talk tomorrow, alright? Dream sweet."

You sleep on the couch that night, dreaming of soft curls and warm brown eyes.

The next week passes in a blur of work, texts, calls and longing. You want to see him again, want to have his deep honey eyes on you, want to hear his voice without the filter of a phone.

You whine about it to Robin a lot, much to her amusement and annoyance.

"Just tell him you like him" She says one night as you recount the latest texting session you and Eddie had the previous day.

"Dude! No! I can't just tell him that" You feel your heart starting to race at the idea, Robin snorts.

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer" She fires back and you groan.

"Because, what if he only wants to be my friend? What if he's like this with everyone? I don't want to make a fool of myself and just because he talks to me doesn't mean he likes me, and there's also the fact that he's like, famous!"

Your words come out in a panicked rush and you breathe heavily while Robin contemplates.

"Y'know, I've been his friend for a while. I don't think I've ever seen him like this about someone, he really does like you. A lot. It's kinda gross."

Her voice is soft and kind and you feel your cheeks heat at her words.

"I don't know what you did to him at the interview but he's like, super gone for you. Pretty sure he's panicking about the same things you are, hun. Trust me when I say that Eddie's not the type of person who'd string you around like that."

"Alright, okay" You sigh, feeling better with her reassurance.

You sit on her advice for a few days, weighing up your decision, when ultimately, Eddie makes it for you.

to Eddie: Eds, I'm posting the interview video and transcripts today. Want me to tag the band's @?

Eddie: Yes, please! You're incredible.

Eddie: Would you like to go out with me? Dinner tonight?

Your heart leaps into your throat and you can't stop the childish giggles as you respond with an enthusiastic yes, yes please I would like that very much.

You don't remember doing much work, too excited about that night to focus properly but you do manage to get the video and transcript online, making sure to tag the band's socials as well as Eddies.

to Eddie: Alright, it's up. What's the dress code for tonight?

Eddie: I just saw and casual, whatever you're comfy in :)

Eddie: What's your address? I'll pick you up at 6?

You give him your address and start getting ready, wanting to look good but not wanting to look like you're trying. A very hard line to walk but you were determined to do so.

A few minutes before six, the doorbell rings and your stomach fills with butterflies. Opening the door for Eddie, your heart stops inside your chest.

He's got his hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head, a few loose curls framing his face. Black jeans and combat boots with chains hanging from the belt, and a faded, well-worn Dio shirt.

His entire face lights up when he sees you, a beaming smile gracing his lips and you're almost ready to fall to your knees and begin proclaiming your everlasting love and devotion to him.

"You look beautiful" He says in lieu of a greeting, eyes roaming your body. You bite your lip softly and his eyes darken, tracing your movement.

"Thanks" You feel almost shy, "Should we go?"

He holds his arm out for you to take and you laugh softly, pulling your door shut behind you and slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow.

He leads you to his car, opening the door for you and closing it after you. Sliding into the drivers seat, his fingers drum against the wheel as he starts the car.

"Where are you takin' me tonight?" You ask softly, turning to look at him as he drives.

"We, my dear, are going to the park"

He glances at you as he says it, the tips of his ears going pink when he realizes you're already watching him.

"The park?" You ask, surprise colouring your voice, "Thought you were taking me out to dinner."

He laughs softy and you feel like you've just won a competition, a prize.

"We're havin' dinner at the park" He beams, "I was going to take you to a restaurant but Steve said not to do that and Robin said you'd like something more personal anyway."

You honestly feel as if you could float, you scrunch your nose at the feeling.

"You talk about me to your friends, huh?" You settle for teasing, enjoying the way Eddie's ears and cheeks bloom with a blush.

"Of course I do" He admits, "I really like you"

You feel your own face heat at his admission and you inhale sharply.

“I- um. I like you, too” You stumble over your words, face flaming and chest tight.

You steadfastly look out the windscreen and miss the look Eddie throws you, like you just handed him the moon. You bite your lip when you feel fingers brush against the side of your hand and shudder when you shift, letting your fingers spread and tangle with his, your palms pressed together.

“I’m glad” He murmurs, giving your hand a soft squeeze before he huffs a laugh, “Would’a made all this kinda awkward if you didn’t.”

You glance over at him and he’s already looking at you, warm smile on his face. He winks, focuses back on the road and lets go of your hand to turn. It doesn’t take much longer for the car to slow to a stop, a comfortable silence settling over you both.

Eddie’s a whirlwind as he rushes out of the car, tripping over his feet as he races to your door before you’ve even finished undoing your seat belt. Laughter bubbles up your throat and you’re chuckling by the time he’s pulling open the door, his cheeks blushing sweetly and eyes warm.

“You’re a dork” You laugh, taking his hand as he holds it out for you, he just smiles wider.

“Y’know, I have been told that” He murmurs as he pulls you closer to him, your breath hitches, “Now. Stand there and look pretty for me while I get our picnic ready.”

You bite your lip and lean against the hood of the car, watching him as he takes out a cooler, basket, blankets and pillows out of the car and rushing back and forth to a nearby tree. It’s tall and old and he sets up the picnic between gnarled roots. Once it’s laid out to his satisfaction he moves to stand in front of you, his fingers reach out and brush against your forearm.

“Good to go?” You ask, voice barely a whisper. He nods, eyes flicking over your face and he gently takes your hand in his, leading you to the blanket.

It’s kind of perfect, honestly. Too many pillows and blankets and Eddie’s brought so much food and there’s soft drinks (I didn’t know what kind you like and I didn’t want to bring booze because I’m driving and like I didn’t want you to think - Eddie breathe).

It’s a lot perfect.

You ask each other questions, you learn anything you can (his favourite colour is, surprisingly, lavender - “it was my mom’s, she used to have this knitted cardigan with little lavender flowers all over it.”)

You talk and talk and talk and the sun slips past the horizon and washes you both in soft golden oranges and reds. You shift closer to Eddie as the night air begins to cool your skin, Eddie notices your shiver because of course he does - he wraps one of the many blankets around your shoulders, presses his body against your side.

"Eddie?" You murmur, resting your cheek onto his shoulder, the soft fabric of his shirt rubs against your cheek.

"Yeah, honey?" He's just as quiet as you, nose brushing along your hairline. Something inside you shudders and trembles before settling into a soft glowing warmth.

"Thank you" Your face turns, forehead pressing against his cheek, "This has been easily the best date I've been on."

He cups your cheek and raises your face to his, your noses brush and he holds you against him.

"Baby, I'm the one who should be thanking you," His voice is rough and sincere, his eyes boring into yours, "For even giving me a chance. For letting me text you all day, every day. For making our interview so fun."

Baby, baby, baby, the word rattles around in your brain and you think you could cry. You're not sure how you've ended up here but you are and you are so, so grateful.

"Remind me to thank Robin for suggesting I interview you." Your words brush against his lips and you're leaning in, pressing your lips against his.

Eddie doesn't hesitate, kissing you back softly, sweetly. It's perfect. The date, the kiss, him. You kiss and kiss and kiss. He keeps it soft and sweet, innocent almost, and you want and want.

You sit together, wrapped up in each other and blankets, trading little kisses until your eyes begin to droop and you're yawning more than you are kissing Eddie. He rubs his palms up and down your arms.

"C'mon, I'll take you home, sweetheart."

You let him help you up, let him guide you to the car, let him assist you into your seat. You watch as he quickly packs up the picnic and loads the car.

You watch, head turned to rest against the seat as he starts the car. You watch as his gaze drifts from the road to you every few minutes and watch his hands as they hold the wheel and you watch as he parks the car in front of your building.

He turns and watches you, watching him.

"You're really sweet, Eddie." You say softly, limbs tingling as his lips curl softly at your words, your smile turns into something more teasing, "Knew you were hot shit but sweet too? Talk about a whole package here."

Eddie's cheeks are bright red and he's pressing his lips together tightly, he shakes his head fondly.

"Bed time for you, I think," and then he's walking you to your door, warm hands holding your face and a kiss being pressed against your lips, "Goodnight baby, dream sweet."

You murmur a soft goodnight, get home safe, please let me know when you're home safe, and then you're in bed, clutching your phone and waiting for that I'm home text.

You fall asleep between one breath and the next.

You don't get to see Eddie for a while after that, but you speak everyday - all day if you can. Good morning texts and random anecdotes about your days, soft words and sweeter wishes, I miss yous and goodnights.

You're swamped with work, fielding emails because apparently you're super popular now - Eddie's video went viral and now everyone's trying to book you for interviews and the comments on every one of your social media's. It's exhausting, honestly.

You call Eddie to complain, and he coos at you, teasing you and taking your mind off the sudden explosion of work.

"That's not nice, you're mean," You pout, phone pressed against your cheek, heart fluttering at Eddie's smooth laughter.

"Thought I was sweet, baby" He teases, recalling your sleepy words on your date. You can picture his wide smile as he teases you, and you just want.

"Are you busy?" You ask on a sigh, expecting the answer to be yes - Eddie's been telling you that he's on a roll with new songs and music, said he's been inspired. "Wanna see you, like, a lot. I know it's only been a couple weeks but-"

"For you? I'm free as a bird" He sounds like an absolute angel, "Want me to come over?"

And, well. That sounds perfect.

"Please. I'll cook us dinner, if you like."

"Heaven sent, you." Eddie groans, softly. "I'll be there in like twenty minutes, baby."

It feels more like five before you're letting him into your apartment. You've barely got the door shut before his arms are wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest and holding you.

"Missed you too, baby." Eddie says into your hair, arms squeezing you softly.

You go boneless against him, stress melting away in the safe circle of Eddie's arms. Eddie presses quick kisses to your hair, forehead, temples, wherever he can reach without pulling away.

You lean back, press your lips against his and you loose yourself in the sensation of being held close and kissed by Eddie Munson.

It's nothing like the sweet kisses you shared during your date. It's a little more. More intense, more burning and has you feeling weak in the knees.

Eddie's tongue brushes against your lower lip, and your insides light up like fireworks. Your lips part on a sigh and Eddie dips his tongue inside your mouth teasingly before he pulls away. Pecking you softly and smiling at you.

"Hey"

"Hey, gorgeous girl." His eyes go soft, warm, "No stressin' about work, alright?"

You nod, step back, tug at his hand, lead him to your couch and pull him down with you. You curl into him and Eddie wraps his arms around you again.

A kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" You ask, cheek pressed firmly against his chest. Your stomach flutters at the feel of solid muscle beneath your skin, the warmth of him, the steady rise of his breathing, the beat of his heart.

His grip on you tightens and he's pulling you down as he lays, forcing you between him and the back of the couch. One of his hands grips your waist tight and the other is gently cradling your head to his chest.

"Anything. You could make me burnt toast and I'd be the happiest person alive," You snort and he tilts your face up slightly, "I'm serious. You're amazing, you really are. And I'm not just saying that because I like you so much, well, I mean, I guess I kinda am but you know what I mean. You're so, so smart, and funny and talented and passionate and caring, charming and so beautiful."

You're shifting so you're hovering over him slightly, face inches away from his as he talks. You've never been one to associate those things about yourself but as Eddie says it, you think you believe it. Your chest feels like it's going to burst and you slide your hand up from his side, resting against his own racing heart while he continues,

"Like, I was so gone for you even before we met. Is that weird? That's weird but I would see the photos Robin would take of you when the two of you hung out and like, sure I thought you were the prettiest person I've ever seen but then she would start telling us stories about you and oh man, you were my dream girl. Absolutely. And then Robin's calling me, asking me to do you a favor? I said yes so fast she laughed at me and hung up."

You're grinning now as he talks, it's a little embarrassing but you feel happy, adored.

"And then, then I was there with you and you were even prettier in person and so goddamn funny? My heart just about gave out and -"

You cut him off by kissing him.

You both melt into it. Eddie's fingers tangling into your hair, keeping you close. You press against his chest and slide your body over his, covering him completely as you slowly run out of air. You pull away, take a deep breath and press right back in. Eddie makes a small sound at the back of his throat and the hand that's not holding your head, slides down to the small of your back, pressing and keeping you firmly against him, like you'd want to be anywhere else.

The kiss quickly heats, gets messier, desire and fire and something a whole lot like love thrum through your veins and you want and need.

You shift slightly, rocking your hips gently down and oh, oh.

Eddie groans, his hand splayed over your lower back moves, grips your ass and pulls you down to him. He rocks against you and you feel him getting hard beneath you and you're moving. Slipping off him, getting to your feet as you fist at his shirt, tugging him up with you and then you're both stumbling to your room while trying to not break the kiss and feel as much of each other as you can.

Your arm slams into the door frame and your whine is lost in Eddie's lips, his hand gently rubs at your shoulder to soothe, and then you're on your bed, Eddie on top of you and pressing you into the mattress. His hair falls around your face, curtaining you both from the outside world and making you feel like there's no one else - time slows and stops and then its you and Eddie, the last two people on the planet.

His lips travel, moving from yours and down your jaw, your neck. He leans over and presses a few quick kisses to your shoulder where you banged it before he's at your throat again, doing his best to cover you in his marks, whether it's from his lips or teeth.

You hold him close and squirm, breathing heavy through parted, kiss swollen lips. His hand slips under your shirt, fingertips gently brushing along your side and coming to rest at your waist. You whine out his name and struggle to free your legs from under him, Eddie lifts slightly and you quickly wrap your legs around his hips, locking you together.

"Eds" You breathe out as he nips at your neck, he trembles and stops, lifting his head and looking at you like you were responsible for lighting the sun and hanging the stars in the sky.

"Eds," You sigh, fingers caressing his face, "Want you."

You see his expression shudder with desire and he surges up, kissing you.

"You've got me," He says, voice rough and deep, "You got me. Wanna make you feel good, baby, can I?"

You nod and press a soft yes Eddie, yes into his lips and then you're both pulling at clothes. Slowly revealing yourselves to each other, it's slow and lazy as you both touch and look your fill with each new bit of skin shown.

Desire is under your skin, but it's simmering, a slow burn that lets you focus on sharing yourself with Eddie rather than a desperate need to be filled.

He kisses and mouths at every inch of your skin, hands touching and caressing anywhere and everywhere. You've never felt so wanted as you do right now with Eddie pressing kisses along your chest and down your torso, with his hands gently keeping you from falling apart.

He kisses his way down until he's reached the waistband of your pants, eyes flicking up to yours. You hold his face, smile, give a small nod, watch as Eddie's eyes slip closed and he presses his lips to your fingertips, you burn.

Eddie slowly shimmies you out of your pants, then his own, and you're both naked together. He sighs quietly as he kneels in between your legs, fingers skating up your calf and thigh. His eyes are darting around like he's trying to drink you in and keep you, how you are right now, burned in his memory.

You do the same.

He's lean, pale skin stretched over wiry muscles. Years of lugging heavy equipment has toned his arms, shoulders, chest. You trace one of his tattoos on his thigh, the closest you can reach without moving - there's so many more than you thought and you want to catalogue every single one, with your fingers and lips and eyes.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers.

The moment feels delicate, gentle, and loud words don't feel right. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, gently pull.

"Eddie"

You're just as quiet, his name leaving your lips on a soft breath. He leans down and softly kisses you before he's moving again, settling down between your legs and your legs shake as you feel the first press of his lips against you.

He's slow about it, running his tongue along your folds like he's got nowhere else to be. It's gentle and soft and has you quaking. You bury your fingers in his hair and Eddie's gripping your thighs, bringing you impossibly closer. He moans so quietly you would have missed it if it weren't for the vibration shooting through you and stoking the fire building under your skin.

"Eddie," You moan, tugging on his hair, "Eddie"

You chance a look at him, and your eyes almost roll back at the sight. He looks blissed out, eyes almost closed and face slack as he eats you out like you're the best damn thing he's ever tasted.

It doesn't escape your notice that he's rocking his hips down, grinding onto the mattress, and that's oh, oh that's enough.

You yank hard enough on his hair that he pulls away, his lips swollen and red, his chin and jaw covered in your slick. You twist and reach for your bedside drawer, praying you didn't forget to replace your expired condoms. You almost cheer out loud when your fingers brush one.

You kiss him as you tear it open, fingers finding Eddie's cock and rolling it on, he whines as you touch him.

Eddie guides you into laying back on the bed, settling between your legs. He's covering you completely, arms and hair surrounding you and caging you in, and he looks at you, eyes finding yours.

"Eddie"

He brushes his nose along yours. His lips gently caress your skin. He hums, and soft words are breathed into your cheek - I've got you baby, you're perfect, so perfect.

Then he's pressing inside you.

He moves slowly as he fills you, trembling moans falling from both your lips. Your eyes burn, tears stinging and you struggle to breathe. You've never felt so full, so wanted, so complete.

"Shh, darling"

He rolls his hips against yours and you cling to him, fingers digging into his arms and back.

"Eddie"

He whispers your name and begins to gently thrust into you. It's heaven. It's rapture. You've never felt so connected to another and you're sure you're seeing your death, your life. Time slips away, it's just you and him, him and you, together.

Eddie keeps the pace slow, gentle, it makes you feel wanted and adored. Desired. You rock your hips up in time with him and he groans, presses his forehead against yours.

"Baby, baby. Look at me."

He's pleading, almost begging you. Your fingers grip him tightly and put your eyes open, find his. Something ignites and you feel yourself hurtling towards your climax.

"With me," Eddie moans, hips rolling faster, "Baby. Baby. With me."

"Yeah, yeah. Eddie."

Your fingers dig harder into his back and you tremble, keeping your eyes locked on his. Fireworks explode in your nerves and you're shaking apart, whining loudly as you drown in bliss.

Eddie's hips stutter and he groans until he's stilling, panting and boneless. He's still buried inside you and he settles his weight a little more firmly on you as you share oxygen, pressed so close that you can't be sure you haven't become one - melded together and fused.

You don't burn it, but you end up having toast for dinner.

[adnauseum11]

Target Lock (John Price x Reader)

Insomnia is a real bitch, except when it is mildly productive.

1.2k words

Kissing only - reader discretion advised regardless

Swearing

Feedback welcome

I have lost control of my life in a very real way and this is helping somehow, I don't know how but it is. Let's not examine that too closely, shall we?

About a month ago you started hallucinating, and you haven’t stopped yet. Your oldest friend, John, turned up to take you on a date you hadn’t realized you had agreed to. When he kissed you after returning you home that night it was like time slowed and a fever dream had taken up residence in your brain. Something in your body chemistry had shifted and it hadn’t returned to normal yet. You were starting to worry it never would.

You can’t help but notice little things about him now that you had previously been immune to. The largeness of his well-muscled body and how close he stands to you. The way his sleeves pull taut over his forearms when talking animatedly. The way his spicy cologne seems to pair with his cigars like a fine wine. Even the way his jeans stretch over his wide thighs when he sprawls on your couch, waiting for you to get ready. You’re pretty sure you are losing your mind, because this is John. John. The same man that used your purse as a sick bag in the back of a taxi one memorable night out.

You are so used to his big presence taking up space in your life that thinking of him in this new light seems vaguely wrong. You can’t seem to stop yourself though, and say ‘yes’, each time he asks you out afterwards. You’ve gone from overly comfortable with him to flighty and nervous when he’s around. You’re not convinced you like the change. 

He's on his way tonight to help put up plastic over the drafty windows at your new rental. It’s so dangerously domestic. You spend so long debating about whether or not you should blow out your collection of tealights (too inadvertently romantic?) that you run out of time and end up having to leave them flickering on the mantel. You answer the door with an overly cheerful hello, and John leans down to press a gentle kiss into your flushed cheek. 

“You alright, love?” He asks, his familiar and steady demeanour bracing your nerves already. Your affectionate smile is genuine, watching as he locks the door behind him and humming an affirmation for him. He follows you to the kitchen where you’ve laid out your tools – such as they are. Hairdryer? check. Double sided tape? Check. Plastic film? Check. 

John’s shrugging out of his lambskin jacket, hanging it off the back of a chair in a habitual motion as you get the kettle going. You can feel the weight of his gaze and inexorably find yourself turning to meet it. He looks uncharacteristically unsure of himself in the middle of your small kitchen.  

“What’s wrong?” The words have escaped before you can think. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes staying on your face, locked on like a predator. There’s something in his expression you aren’t familiar with, can’t quite read. His hands find his pockets, elbows pressed in against his sides, making himself seem smaller. You frown at his unusual behaviour, a different kind of anxiety overtaking you now. 

“You’re freaking me out.” You warn, your voice warbling as your sentence ends. 

“Did I fuck this up?” He blurts out, blue eyes widening as if he’s surprised himself with his outburst as well as you. 

“Fuck what up?” You ask for unnecessary clarification.

He gestures between you with his thumb, the rest of his body tense and waiting to hear your verdict.

“…No.”

“Are you sure? Cause it seems –“ He cuts himself off.

“Seems like what?” 

“Seems like you’re running scared. Not like yourself, love.”

“John.” You exhale in a breath. You’re startled by his incisive comment, cut to the quick with no retort at the ready.

“Don’t say my name like that if you’re just going to call this off.” His voice lowers an octave and your stomach swoops in response.

“…I’m not calling anything off, I just…” You shouldn’t be surprised John couldn’t watch you struggle without comment. Or pressing the issue. A man of action, through and through. 

“You what? Talk to me.” His voice is soft, concerned.

“What if we do fuck this up? Is it worth it? To throw away over two decades of friendship?”

Something passes over his face and he’s closing the distance between you before you can process that he’s moving. His tone is urgent, like he needs to you understand this, and understand it now.

“You can’t fuck this up. There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop caring about you. You don’t know that by now?”

His big hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks lightly. The nearness of his big body makes your own respond in ways that you haven’t allowed yourself to process.

“John.” You say his name helplessly, unsure what to do with this information he’s placing in your hands. He’s unbalanced the dynamic between you. Your instinct is to duck and hide, to deflect to something more appropriate for old friends, a joke or insult, but that won’t help you now. You know your eyes must be wide with the fear clawing its way through your chest. He’s moving to step back, to let go of your face before you can muster anything else to say.  

“It’s alright, if you don’t – “ 

You know he’s about to backpedal and your heart feels like someone has taken a hold of it and is squeezing for all their worth. 

“No.” You manage you squeak out, your voice not altogether steady. 

You cut him off with such eloquence that it stops him in his tracks. You’re reaching for his hands, nuzzling back into the space between them before you can think it through. Instead, letting the soft, small animal of your body timidly search out what it wants. 

“No?” He breathes, stroking his thumbs over your cheeks again, like he’s scared to jostle you for fear of something shattering.

“Whatever you were about to say… don’t.”

His familiar chuckle is comforting, and then the slightest pressure from his fingertips is angling your face up to his. You oblige his unspoken request, his nearness making your skin prickle and your thoughts scatter.  

“Alright, love.” He breathes again and your eyes meet his. This time you can read the want on his face, plain as day. It makes your stomach quiver in anticipation. John’s intense blue eyes are searching your face for something. Whatever it is he must find it, because he’s lowering his mouth to yours in the next heartbeat. 

The silken heat of his lips pull at your own until you open for him, pliant now where before you had been stiff and recalcitrant. The tip of his tongue finding yours sends sparks scattering behind your closed eyelids, sensation overtaking self-consciousness. Your hands take on a mind of their own, sliding up his solid chest to press in to the short strands of his hair and clutch at the back of his shirt, a subconscious effort to ground yourself. 

One big hand cups the back of your head, subtly steering your movements as he plunders your mouth. The other settles on your hip, strong fingers pressing into your soft flesh. A soft whine escapes before you can corral your reaction and you can feel the response thrum through John’s body. You don’t realize you’re moving until you feel your back press up against the cool door of your fridge. The scattered magnets dig into your back as you slowly give in to his onslaught, willingly pinned in place by his big body. The windows can wait a while longer, you absently decide.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 25

Part 25:

Patrick stood with a cigarette outside the building where Liana worked. He knew it wasn't ideal, but he'd been debating for half an hour whether to go in and say he had an appointment with her. He wondered if there were people who knew him, who had heard stories about him, who knew who he had been in her life. Maybe there were people who would recognize him from tennis, who would recognize him as the one who beat her fiancé.

He threw the cigarette away, not bothering to pick up the butt, and went inside after popping a gum in his mouth. "Hey, love, I'm looking for Liana Levy's office," he said to the girl sitting at the reception. She looked at him for a moment, probably trying to figure out where she knew him from. "At the end on the left," she muttered and smiled at him. He nodded and smiled back, walking confidently.

Patrick knocked on the door and heard Liana's gentle voice telling him to come in while she continued talking to someone who was already inside. "Hey," he muttered. He suddenly felt stupid. Not understanding why he came at all. She looked so confused when she saw him that he regretted the decision the moment he saw her face, but there was nowhere to run. "Can we continue this later, Paul?" she asked the guy she was talking to, and he nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Well?" Liana looked at him after a few seconds of silence. Patrick didn't say anything, leaning on one of the cabinets in her office and shifting his weight from his heels to his toes. He felt like a lost four-year-old seeking attention from his mom. "Patrick, why are you here?" she asked after he didn't say a word. "It's been a while since we talked." He tried to sound determined. "It's been two weeks since France. Before that, we didn't talk for a year, and you didn't show up here. Did something happen?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing. Always so practical. Always looking to solve a problem. "No," he chuckled.

"Do you need something?" she added another question. Liana didn't understand what was happening. Her heart was racing, and Patrick refused to explain himself. But when did he ever explain himself? When did he ever bother to answer one of her questions? "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you to build me a house, I'm not an Asshole" he indirectly jabbed at Art, about that time he practically demanded Liana build his house, which over time became her house (just like Patrick told her it would, but he wasn't petty). She sat down in her chair and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

He sat in the chair opposite her and examined her and her office in general. Her degree was framed on one of the walls, there were some letters of appreciation, a strange frog toy standing on a shelf, and Patrick swore it was looking back at him. "That's a gift I got from a client," she said quickly, almost justifying the creepy frog Patrick was staring at. "Was it a real frog once?" he asked, almost horrified. "No. Why are you here, Patrick?" she answered, and he returned his gaze to her. "To invite you to dinner," he said quickly, and she raised an eyebrow, the horrified look seemingly taking turns between them. "Both of you, of course, I have boundaries." he added quickly. "You're at my workplace, and you're talking about boundaries?" she chuckled. "I see the irony, yes." The familiar smirk appeared on his face. "It's not appropriate, you know it's not appropriate," Liana said, still looking at him as if he was the craziest man she had ever encountered, maybe he really was the craziest.

"Why not?" he asked, "You're getting married, and I'm in a stable relationship. We were all friends once, I don't see why it can't happen again," he tried to sound convincing. "What's the catch?" Liana asked, raising an eyebrow. "A man can stop being in love with you and miss his best friend." he said, looking at the picture of her and Art on the desk. "You two haven't been friends for a long time, Patrick." Liana sighed. "Whose fault is that?" he asked. And it came out with a lot more venom than he intended. "I'm sorry, Li, it's lonely. Okay? You have each other, and I don't. I'm not allowed to miss you, but I'm allowed to miss him." He sounded so vulnerable that all Liana could do was nod. Even though there was no way it would work.

"He won't like it." Liana muttered, trying to make Patrick give up. "You're good at ultimatums. I'm worth an ultimatum, Liana. Waste one on me." he moved towards the exit. "Still the same number?" he asked, and Liana nodded quietly, looking at him with almost pity. "I'll text you the address. This Friday," he didn't say an arrogant 'see you later' before he left because he wasn't sure if they would really see each other. And it was sad and exciting at the same time.

When Liana came home, Art was lying on the couch, flipping through TV channels, looking either bored or completely exhausted, one of the two. He smiled at her and glanced at the clock. "This isn't a reasonable time to come home, Ms. Donaldson," he said, and she heard the sarcasm. "I'm not married to you yet. I can still call the whole thing off, you know," she leaned against the doorframe, looking at him amused. "You won't do that." He smiled. "You're very confident for someone who didn't wait for me with takeout and flowers in a vase," she replied with a half-chuckle and moved towards the kitchen, hearing him stand up and follow her.

"Hey," his large, rough hands from holding a racket most of his life, wrapped around her from behind as he kissed her neck. "Hey." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting herself sink into his warmth, the security that only he could provide. "It really is late, Lia, you're working too hard." He murmured and bit her earlobe before she could respond. "It was a long day. And two hours of it, I sat with your mom and picked out napkins. It was really fun." She replied, feeling his chuckle against her neck.

Art gently turned her to face him, examining her and seeing the dark circles forming under her eyes. She was exhausted. "Oh no, you look worried," Liana said suddenly, and his smile was partial. Because he would never get used to how well she knew him. It always caught him off guard. "You're putting too much on your shoulders, Lia, and I love those shoulders too much for them to collapse." He gave her shoulder a small squeeze, not taking his eyes off her. "I can handle your mom, Art, she loves me more than she loves you anyway." Liana rolled her eyes in response. "Christine needs to stop telling you things like that, I can't handle your ego anymore." He said, amused.

"Do you love me?" Liana suddenly asked. Art couldn't help but chuckle and take a step back. "A bit of a weird question to ask in the middle of the kitchen in our house, a month and a half before you become my wife," the amused look didn't leave his face until he realized how serious she looked. "Art." She said, demanding he say it. "Of course I love you. How is that a real question right now, Lia?" He would have rolled his eyes if she didn't look so shaken in front of him. "Hey, what's with this talk all of a sudden?" He added, standing close to her again and hugging her as tightly as he could. If he could, he would have absorbed her into himself. To be part of him every moment.

"Patrick came to my work today," Art recoiled from her in a second. How did Patrick always show up in his life like an ambush? How did he always manage to surprise him? Why was Art never ready for the attack? Why did he always have to defend what was his? He looked at Liana with a look she probably couldn't read because he couldn't organize what was going through his head, he just felt his heart start to beat rapidly and his mind racing with all the worst thoughts forward. "Son of a bitch." Art muttered with a chuckle that came out more bitter than he planned, but it was all he had. "Art-" Liana sighed. "What is it this time? What does he want?" Art asked. His fingers danced uncontrollably. He felt how he couldn't stop his level of anger, how his tension was increasing, how he wasn't the person he wanted to be.

"He invited us to dinner. He wants to leave the past in the past." She sounded confident in what she was saying. Art chuckled. "He can shove his dinner up his ass and let it come out of his nose," Art said and started pacing back and forth in the kitchen. "Art." She sighed again. "Don't talk to me like I'm a 12-year-old, Liana, I know that tone," he interrupted her again. "Not what I wanted to do." She clarified. "My head is starting to hurt; can you stop?" She added, referring to his pacing. "Are you serious?" He looked at her after he stopped, "You want to go? Unbelievable." He muttered. "How did he convince you, Liana?" He asked.

"He didn't convince me of anything." She muttered and looked at Art. "He convinced you of something if you're even bringing it up." Art leaned on the table in front of her. He looked like a man ready for an attack. One who wasn't willing to let go until the other side surrendered, and Liana didn't plan to surrender anytime soon. "Would you prefer I hadn't told you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd prefer if you were smart enough to know he doesn't want to have dinner with us, not with me at least." Art said with disdain that didn't characterize him, not when he talked to Liana. "Call me stupid again and see what happens, I dare you," her jaw clenched after she said that, her anger evident in every syllable that came out of her mouth.

Art sighed, looking at the love of his life standing in front of him, furious. "I don't think you're stupid, Lia," he sighed in frustration, feeling all his anger leaving him. He couldn't be angry when she was angry too, one of them had to compromise, and after how he treated her in college, he swore to himself he would always be the one to compromise. That he would never let his anger be what led his words when he was with her. "So what do you think?" She asked, her gaze piercing, and luckily for him, couldn't actually kill. "I think you're naive," he said, searching for the right way to say it, "and that you'll always have a soft spot for Patrick," he added, examining her. "And you don't?" She asked, "You don't care about him? You won't care about him ever again? Wasn't he part of your life too?" She added the questions that hovered over them for years.

Of course, Patrick would always be part of Art's life. Sometimes Art dreams about him. Distant dreams, about the academy, about games they played together, about competitions they won together. There are entire conversations Art has with Patrick in his head, they're never about what really matters. They come up when Art eats a date before a workout and manages to imagine Patrick laughing at him. He sometimes knows in what intonation Patrick would say things or what would be the crudest joke to think of so Patrick could say it in the middle of a bar full of potential sponsors. Art misses the moments they smuggled beer when they were minors. The talks about their hot math teacher. Tennis.

"I've come to terms with him not being in my life anymore, Liana, I came to terms with it a long time ago," Art said, his eyebrows furrowing for a second. No one in the world besides Liana would have noticed it, but he stood in front of her, and she recognized the lie. "Okay." She surrendered and heard him chuckle, "What? You've come to terms with it, what can I do about it?" She added. "Clearly, you have something to say, so say it." He said. "I'm tired of fighting with Patrick and about Patrick, it exhausts me. I'm too old to carry this anger. I think you are too. I love you, and I don't think I can keep trying to convince you that nothing and no one can change that."

"You're quite convincing, Ms. Donaldson," he started moving closer to her until he finally stopped in front of her, moving his hand to her back pocket while hugging her possessively. Even though no one was around. "I'm not married to you yet. I can still call the whole thing off," She muttered into him what she told him every night from the moment he proposed and started calling her that. He just nodded and pulled her even closer to him.

"I can't believe he lives here," Art muttered as they stood at the entrance to Patrick's apartment. The suburb was uncharacteristic. None of them imagined Patrick would live in such a... quiet neighborhood. Liana ran her hand over Art's collar, straightening his sweater as she always did before they entered places together. "Behave. It's just one evening, and we can leave after half an hour if we want." Liana told him, seeing his eye roll.

Casey, Patrick's perfectly blond girlfriend, who wasn't actually a million years younger than him as Liana initially thought, enthusiastically opened the door. "You came," she smiled. It seemed genuine. Genuine enough for Liana to find it hard to be mad at her. "We brought wine and flowers," Liana handed her the wine, and Art handed over the flowers he was holding. Patrick stood behind her, looking amused but not saying a word. "Good to see you," he smiled at them. Liana nodded as Patrick extended his hand to Art, who took his time but eventually shook it. "Do you want a tour of the house? That's what adults do when they invite someone over, right?" he added, trying to lighten the mood, knowing Liana wouldn't refuse to see a house she had never been to. It was one of her favorite things to do. When they lived in London, she would drag him to various open houses, and they would pretend they were about to buy homes they couldn't really afford, just so she could see them.

"We'd love to," Liana said with a smile. Patrick's house looked like it was taken from a magazine. Like a catalog of how a home should look. She saw his mother's touch in the pictures he hung in the living room, in the candlesticks she saw on one of the shelves. "This is a good neighborhood to live in. My dad is big in real estate, and he recommended the area," Casey didn't stop talking, and secretly, Liana wanted to thank her for it because otherwise, they would have been walking around in awkward silence, moving from room to room as if they were on one of those London tours, surrounded by strangers.

"Who wants something to drink?" Patrick suddenly asked, and everyone raised their hands. Thank God. In the dining room, more people had already gathered, some of their mutual friends from the tennis academy. Liana thanked every god she knew that it wasn't just the four of them. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and Liana couldn't help but wonder if she was the reason Art didn't spend enough time with his friends. If he was wasting too much time keeping her company. She would have to ask him about it when they got home.

Casey was sweet. It was infuriating how friendly she was and how she tried to include Liana in a conversation about Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. It was almost infuriating when she asked her how the wedding preparations were going and made everyone interested in her and Art's wedding arrangements.

Art and Patrick went out to the balcony with beer. It was inevitable; after all, that's why Patrick organized all this, to put the past behind, to lie to Art's face, to find the right moment to return to the lives of the two people who were once his greatest motivation. "You're getting married," Patrick said suddenly, and Art swallowed, looking at who was once his best friend. "You won't be able to stop it, Patrick," Art said. "I'm here because she needed this, but I know what you're doing." He continued, not taking his eyes off the guy in front of him, who was once so close but today, when Art looked at him, all he saw was ruin. He saw Patrick destroying his life without blinking, without thinking twice. He had already done it once. Art wouldn't let it happen again; he was more prepared this time.

"I'm not trying to ruin things for you, man. I'm happy for you. For you both. Isn't this what you wanted?" Patrick asked Art while the latter took another sip of beer, leaning on the balcony and watching Patrick light a cigarette. "Want one?" he offered Art the pack. "I don't smoke," Art muttered, almost ashamed of the fact that he didn't live his rebellious youth like Patrick clearly still did, almost ashamed of the fact that their achievements were starting to look similar, but Art was doing everything by the book while even Patrick's expressions were smug. "Of course not," Patrick nodded his head, talking half to Art and half to himself, causing Art to roll his eyes.

"I'm not trying to ruin things for you," he repeated. "So what are you trying to do?" Art asked. "You don't care about Casey; I can see that. I know you." He continued, trying to press, trying to find weak spots. He couldn't leave this house without understanding the endgame of his most important competitor. "She's nice. It's fun with her," Patrick shrugged in response, and Art nodded. "It feels strange that you're getting married and I'm not part of either of your lives. Isn't that strange, Art?" Patrick sighed. "You haven't been part of our lives for a long time, Patrick," Art stated a fact. "I know," Patrick muttered. "Do you remember when you came to ask me for her key?" Art suddenly asked, and Patrick looked at him confused. "She and I had the fight, and about a week later, you asked me to give you the spare key to her room," he reminded him, and Patrick nodded slowly. "I told you not to do it. You made your choice that day," Art shrugged as if it no longer mattered to him. "Are you going to hold that over my head forever, Art? That was almost seven years ago," Patrick looked at him from the chair he was sitting on. "It was a pretty defining moment, Patrick," Art explained. "Look, man, she wants us to be okay, so we can be civil to each other." He continued, "I'm not at a stage where I'm looking for friends. I have everything I need."

"I didn't do it to ruin things for you, Art. It was never to ruin things for you," Patrick said suddenly, laughing in frustration and taking another drag from his almost finished cigarette. "So what was it?" Art asked. He looked at Patrick as if he were dirt he needed to scrape off his shoe. A problem he needed to solve. An obstacle to overcome. "It wasn't about you. It was for her. I would do anything for her. You're about to marry her; you surely know how that feels," Patrick sighed, feeling defeated.

"So that's why you cheated on her?" Art suddenly asked. It bothered him. Because for years, he managed to find logic in Patrick's behavior. He knew he loved Liana. He knew he cared for her in London. He imagined their relationship in his head as ideal. They were always closer than he and Liana were. They never fought just to fight; she never looked at him like she hated him because he ordered ice cream she didn't like or forced her to watch tennis or said something that made her parents laugh at her expense. She and Patrick were always ideal in Art's mind, and he envied that quite a bit when they were young. He regretted more than once that he introduced them, that he didn't keep his worlds separate. He envied them before he even realized how much he loved Liana. Then he found out Patrick cheated on her. And more than he hated him for how he made Liana feel, he hated the fact that all those years he believed she was in a relationship with someone more deserving than him. With someone who loved her more than Art knew how to love her, while Patrick was lazy, cruel, and unfaithful. And for that, he couldn't forgive him. For the time he took from them. For the illusion he shattered for both of them. "That's between Liana and me, Art," Patrick muttered. "You're saying choosing her all those years ago was inevitable because you loved her, and I would have accepted that two years ago. I would have, really. I would be sitting here thinking it made sense and that I would also choose Liana without hesitation because, it's Liana, and I love her, and I thought you loved her like that too. But then I saw you cheat on her and found out it wasn't the first time." Art stopped to catch his breath, his hand clenching into a fist irrationally. "I would never do that, Patrick. You ruined our friendship and didn't really choose her. Why? Was it worth it?" He didn't take his eyes off him. "You don't know how it was, Art. When it was just me and her. You don't know the level of expectations and disappointments. You don't know anything," Patrick felt the need to defend himself. Because if there was one thing that couldn't be taken from him, it was his love for Liana. "Poor Patrick, someone loves him and expects him to fulfill his potential. How could anyone not sympathize?" Art spoke in a mocking tone.

"Do you want to know what I think, Patrick?" Art approached him after a few seconds of silence. "Go on," Patrick's jaw clenched. "I think you don't love her. I think you love the idea that you can take what's mine. But you can't. You can beat me in tennis. But that's not what's important. It's a means to an end. The end will always be a good life for Liana and me. I think you're still sure you're hot shit, that without effort, you can keep taking what's not yours. That without looking people in the eye, you can hurt them, and they'll keep letting you off." Art stopped to breathe as they both didn't blink for a moment. "That's not the case. I'm not buying what you're selling here. Do you want to be invited to our wedding? Fine, I don't care. It's up to Liana, but you're not part of our lives, and you won't be." He finished, and Patrick let out a laugh that sounded like a deep breath.

"If you go to her workplace again, I'll make sure your next sponsor is painkillers." Art said as he moved toward the balcony door, feeling done with this conversation and the evening in general, wondering if it was too early to leave. "Good talk, pal," Patrick said sarcastically. "Yeah, good talk." Art muttered and left, leaving Patrick in a house full of people yet completely alone on the balcony.

When Art sat next to Liana on the couch, she was in the middle of a conversation with Brody's girlfriend. Art wasn't paying enough attention to remember her name. "Everything okay?" she whispered in his ear a few minutes later. "Everything's great." He felt her lips brush against his cheek for a moment. "We need to use our excuse?" she asked, and he looked at her for a moment, seeing her feel more comfortable with the people and not wanting to take that away from her. "Soon, it's all good." He smiled and nodded, watching her return to the conversation. He could endure another half hour in the hell called Patrick Zweig's apartment. He could do it for Liana.

Come to think of it, he could do almost anything for Liana.

Hey guys!!! It's been so long and I'm sorry. As you know, my computer was dead for a while, and then I was kinda taken aback by those hate comments. But we're back! What do we think? What does Patrick want? What about Art's reaction? Any thoughts at all? Hope you are still enjoying it. Talk to me and feel free to send more ideas for blurbs as well <3

taglist (if anyone wants to join, just ask): @lydiaxkirby @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[trek-tracks]

hi.

I just wanted to say...I ended up landing back on your blog a while ago, following an ongoing TOS hyperfixation. it was the first time I'd looked at tumblr again in ages. and I happened to stumble across a post where you had left these tags--

and that, uh, absolutely floored me. like, when I say I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone, I don't mean that anyone did anything to make me think that--it's just, when you get a head full up with depression, it's real easy to convince yourself of things like that, you know? and you can do all kinds of positive thinking exercises to try to fight it, but actually having a concrete rebuttal come along and knock the whole narrative down is something else entirely.

it's a whole thing and I don't want to traumadump on you or anything. I just, uh, wanted to say thanks, I guess. also I now have a folder full of TOS text post memes saved, so thanks for that too.

I spent the past few days debating whether or not to answer this publicly, and please let me know if you'd rather I take it down. In the end, I think it's important that a) everyone knows I think you're awesome, and b) to send the message to everyone that more people care about you than you think. (Yes, you, reading this. I don't care what your brain says. You are important to people, even if you don't know it yet.)

I had no hope or expectation you would ever see those tags, and they are honest. You were one of my early friends on Tumblr, back when I was really seeing what this platform was all about. I loved your insights, I loved your jokes, and I always enjoyed our interactions. I saw that you were having a hard time, and I was definitely worried when you left. However, I didn't want to ask you to come back to a platform that was clearly draining to you, or be another expectation in a sea of expectations. I googled you a few times for my own peace of mind, but that's as far as it got. In this online world, sometimes it's hard to show we care without feeling awkward or overbearing.

Ultimately, though, the thing about this online world is that we also never completely disappear, especially if we interact with each other. Chains of posts and responses are snapshots of friendships, ephemera preserved in time. It's sad and fond and lovely all at once. Every once in a while, that past resurfaces, and we remember. Sometimes I wish we could know when someone is thinking about us, a little pinprick of warmth we could carry around, but maybe it'd get excessive and feel like heartburn.

I want anyone who follows this blog to know--if we're mutuals, or if you show up in my notifications every once in a while (because after my initial burst of following people I've become really remiss about adding mutuals, which is only a good thing because it would mean I'd spend even more time on Tumblr), I think about you, and I hope you're doing well. You matter.

When I say that I am thrilled that you're back and recovering, Rev, I mean it with my whole whole heart. It made my week. So often we don't get to read the next chapter of our online friends' lives, and thank you so much for updating us.

[yourfavouritefighter]

OKAY SO IM KINDA NOT IN W GREAT MOOD RN SO IM GONNA RANT ABOUT THE JEKYLL AND HYDE MUSICAL since none of my irl pals are gonna listen you guys have to

SO POINT ONE

-the whole plot hinges around the core idea that Henry himself is a man with good intentions who goes too far, and that he was warned to stop but he doesn’t and his own hubris and desire to have scientific recognition pushes him to extremes, and in turn-his and many other’s deaths.

—> that’s bullshit however, considering in the 1997 musical sound track (the most recent one i can get my hands on) there are more songs convincing Henry that he should carry on than their are dissuading him (considering they cut board of governors). allow me to list examples and why it’s stupid that he’s a man who was dissuaded but chose to walk a danger game path anyways.

—> firstly, his best friend Gabriel John Utterson, deeply trusted and level headed with a good moral compass “Henry you have come too far, remember what you have a stake” and “you’ve got to see it through” both stated in a song called “pursue the truth”. this song is heavily pivotal as it inspires Henry to continue when he wouldn’t have otherwise due to pressure from the board of governors of st jude’s hospital. In this song he was not told that going forward would be dangerous, John likely knew exactly what Henry was doing but wholeheartedly encouraged him, Henry trusted his judgement. He was not dissuaded.

—>Emma and Lisa, for the sake of coherency I’ll be referring to her as Emma as i’ll be using the newer soundtrack for this discussion. His wife to be, who he’s supposedly madly in live with; spends all of “i must go on” encouraging his pursuit of science, encouraging him to carry on his work. In lines like “when this all began, we knew there’d be a price to pay”, “too late to turn away”, reinforcing the idea in Henry’s mind that this is the best way forward- who cares about stuffy governors when those dear and near to him have expressed clear support of his work.

—>You could hypothetically argue that neither John nor Emma truly knew the extent to which Henry was going with his experiments, not truly understanding what he wanted to or was trying to achieve. However, if that was the intention the writers should’ve made that more overt considering later in the play they heavily emphasise the theme and idea that Henry has, quote “gone too far”, a phrase repeatedly used. Instead they lead the audience also view this as an honourable goal, due to the growing support of Henry and the audiences like of the characters at this point in the play.

Through the removal of Lanyon, the central conflict and core flaw of Henry Jekyll as a character has been removed, if he has no close friend to strongly and brutally disagree with him, it was no long *his* flaw that he carried on, it was no longer his fault, as the blame could be feasibly shared between him and those who encouraged him, shifting the play and narrative from a criticism of society in that extremism whether it be for or against change leads to a poor outcome, to being a story about how a well intentioned yet flawed scientist was misguided by his passion and loved ones, and payed the price.

-(next point because i’ve argued long enough about that.) was Henry Jekyll really as well intentioned as the play attempts to convey?

—>(Short answer, no. Long answer, potentially). Henry’s morality is heavily debatable, with it being dependant on the rendition of the play you watched, for the sake of the cohesion of the argument i’m going to be basing this entirely off of what i’ve seen of the 1997 and the 1995 plays.

—> firstly let’s discuss what the writers intended, or at least my perspective on what they were aiming to convey. within the opening scenes, we are greeted with Henry and his unnamed(?) father who is stuck in a mental asylum for reasons we as an audience are not privy to, Henry sings “lost in the darkness” a song establishing his motivations and goals as a character. I believe that the intention here was to give the viewer the impression that Henry as a character and person is moral and good, becoming misguided in his efforts to achieve his goals and save his father, eventually sacrificing himself for the sake of the safety of society, once the monster of his own well intentioned creation consumes him. So as a character it could be argued that he is moral. However i what the writers intended and what they conveyed are hugely different.

—> Due to the placement of Henry’s motivation being at the beginning of the play, the intention was likely to hook the audience into liking him as a character, forcing them to see how well intentioned he is before exploring his flaws and then eventually having him sacrifice himself to show his respectable morality as a character. However, by closely following this with “board of governors” (and the 1997 equivalent assumedly) we are hit with the whiplash of what was presented as a good person, and the man who argues with the board. Due to how bitter and cruelly he acts in a futile attempt to gain funding(?) and support for his project, the audience may rightfully assume that his kindness was a facade (especially since facades and the duality of man are central themes) and that Henry’s true colours are shown within this situation. If the writers truly intended to establish his perfect morality, they should have had Henry visit his father, and “lost in the darkness” take place after Henry is refused by the governors, so that his rage and refusal to take no for an answer is a shown to be a result of his stress and care for his father- not his questionable morality. This is because the audience will retain things that happen later in the play best, using them to form their impressions, so by shifting the placement of this scene it shifts the presentation of the character as a whole. But that is not what we are here to discuss.

—> Henry and Lucy. Another instance of Henry’s good morality working against him, as despite entering with the intention to find a test subject- he leaves having given Lucy his business card(?) and offering her support due to her situation. This eventually leads to her death, but it is another instance of his good morality, there were no strings attached to this aid, as Henry was a soon to be married man, and there is no implications that he finds her attractive (if you are to follow the play’s implications that Jekyll and Hyde are truly separate beings). So clearly you could argue that his morality is good, right?

—> Hyde. From a scientific standpoint, matter cannot be created or destroyed, going from that perspective, Hyde’s intentions cannot have just appeared-they had to be fuelled by Jekyll’s innermost desires and thoughts, especially since Hyde goes after those who have wronged Henry during “murder murder”. So the murderous impulses, the sketchy behaviour and outright illegal behaviour towards Lucy came from Jekyll. However this doesn’t make Henry an immoral character.

—> Humour me for a moment while i discuss the concept of the id. So freud (yes that freud) had a theory that stated that humans were comprised of three parts that all worked together, the id the ego and the super ego. The id was your animalistic urges and desires, your superego is societal expectations for the most part, acting as your selflessness. With the ego balancing the two; preventing you from donating all of your money to charity and putting you on the streets, and preventing you from going on a murder spree, killing the upper class. Within the original novel, Hyde is implied to be without the ego or superego, merely the embodiment of Jekyll’s id. So now comes the debate, is a person immoral for having immoral desires, if unacted upon?

—>Therein lies the conflict, as whether or not immoral desires mean an immoral person or character. Personally i believe no, the average person will have immoral thoughts from time to time, the true evil comes from how such desires are dealt with. So while Hyde is evil, despite being based upon Jekyll, you cannot state that that makes Henry evil in turn. Paired with the potential that Hyde is a twisted version of Jekyll’s own desires (for example Henry wants revenge against the governors-Hyde interprets that as murder, whilst Jekyll implies showing them that he was right).

anyways this has got way too long so rip, mb if this is incoherent i woke up and was like ‘jekyll and hyde musicals really sucked at doing plot and character development…welp time to rant’

please correct me in the comments if i’m misremembering shit i’m stupid so it’s a possibility

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

A Ghost Of A Man (PART THREE)

Summary: The reader goes back to the abandoned building. Will she have the courage to talk to him, or will she be scared off by his eerie presence for a second time.

Warnings: Language, supernatural themes

You had barely slept that night, tossing and turning in bed, your mind plagued with questions about the day's events. Curiosity was consuming you and you debated whether to go back to the abandoned building. You had always been an inquisitive person, your family often telling you that one day it would get you into trouble, and you were definitely not looking for any trouble. But you knew how you could get, not letting things go, having to always delve deeper, could you let this go?

" Oh my god what happened to you?" Your friend asked looking at your hand as you walked out your bedroom.

" Caught it on a metal fence"

" On a metal fence! What were you doing?" your friend asked as she approached you taking your hand to have a closer look.

" I was just, looking around this old building. It's fine it's already healing, just a bit sore" you said as you walked past her to sit on the large sofa.

" Old building? You was looking into that gang weren't you?" A smile forming on her lips, she knew you far too well. "I'll get you some paracetamol" she said chuckling as she went into the kitchen. " So that's where you was last night? Scaling metal fences?" She asked coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water and a box of pain medicine in her hand.

" Slithering more like, caught my hand on the way out" you said as you took the water and box from her.

" Trespassing" She laughed as she sat down next to you. "Aw Y/N you never fail to make me laugh with your little exploits. You should probably go and get it checked though, you have had your tetanus shot right?" She asked, the mother figure coming out in her.

" It's fine, and yes I'm all jabbed up" you said getting up.

"So, did you find anything more on them?" She asked watching you head back to your room.

"Erm yeh, kind of" you answered as you turned back to face her, pulling your sleeves over your hands, a nervous little habit you've had since you was child.

"Are you ok Y/N?" Louise asked noticing your fidgeting, her eyes narrowing.

" You know, i don't think I'm going to use them anymore, you know for the assignment" you said trying to sound confident, ignoring her concerns.

" Right, ok...and why not? Your friend asked, her eyes narrowing even more. She knew something was wrong.

"Just want to take a different route that's all"

"Hmm, Ok" she replied still not convinced, but decided not to push any further. "Well you will have to pick someone soon, the assignments due in one week" she added as you nodded your head huffing in desperation at the approaching deadline.

"Oh god they're not still around are they, didn't bump into one of them did you and that's why you've changed your assignment ?" She jokingly laughed.

"What! No, no" You replied nervously laughing as you made your way back to your room to get ready for Uni. If only she knew that she was half right, you thought to yourself.

It was the last class of the day...finally, you could barely concentrate. Sitting down in one of the empty chairs in the large lecture room, you waited for everyone else to arrive. Looking out one of the small windows you kept thinking about the previous night, it was like a movie on replay, the only problem was you couldn't seem to turn it off. The old ladies words replaying in your head, you was unable to block them out. Then there was him. He wouldn't leave your thoughts alone, he was persistent in them. "I'm not going back" you said internally, repeating it to yourself almost like a mantra as you tried to convince yourself that it would be a bad idea. For the entire day his piercing blue eyes and pale face would appear in front of you, no matter where you looked you would see him. He was haunting you.

"fuck. Leave me alone." you said under your breath a little too loud.

" Huh?" Your friend Louise answered turning to you, pausing her conversation with the person next to her.

" Oh...nothing" you replied, your cheeks now bright red.

" You sure you ok Y/N? You dont look so good"

" I'm fine, honest"

With everyone now in their seats the lecture started. He was talking about Birmingham's industrial revolution...you thought, you wasn't really listening. You was far too busy having an internal battle in your head, weighing out the pros and cons for going back. After about thirty minutes of arguing with yourself you turned to your friend.

" You know, you're right I'm not feeling too good I'm going to go get my hand checked out" you said whispering to your friend.

"About time" she smiled and nodded. " Text me ok? To let me know how it went"

Nodding to your friend you got up and quietly left the lecture room. Making your way through the University corridors you walked straight past the medical office and out the front entrance. You was going to do it wasn't you? You was going to go back there, back to that building, back to him. You was like a dog with a bone, too determined and curious for your own good. Making it just in time for the bus you walked in and made your way to an empty seat. You undeniably felt scared, but not as much as any normal person would, instead you felt a sense of anticipation, anticipation to see him again. He wouldn't hurt you, right? The old lady said he wouldn't...so you believed her now?

Before you knew it, you had gotten off the bus and was now walking down the street to the abandoned building once more. Opening up the metal gates you slipped through the bottom, this time being careful of the loose piece of wire. "I'm gonna get myself fucking killed aren't I" you said to yourself completely ignoring any natural gut instincts to walk away. As you opened the front door you quietly made your way up the rickety old stairs. Once you got to the top you paused expecting to see him, but he wasn't there. Making your way slowly to his office you saw a cloud of smoke come into view through the open large wooden door. Then there was the unforgettable smell of tobacco and whiskey that filled your senses...he was in there. Entering the cold room you saw him sitting in his leather chair facing the window a cigarette resting between his fingers, his peaked cap laying on the old wooden desk.

"I know what you are... I know who you are" you said with apprehension as you stood by the door.

" And yet, you came back" he replied in a deep thick Birmingham accent. " Are you not afraid?"

" No" you said lying, as you nervously waited for him to look at you.

" You should be" he replied in a dark voice.

He turned around in his chair to face you, your breathing quickened and you took a few steps back. The cigarette still burning between his fingers he arched his eyebrow.

"It appears that you are"

" You won't hurt me" you said as you pulled your coat sleeves over your hands trying to reassure yourself.

" Won't I?" He questioned you, a slight amusement in his response.

" No...I met the old lady who lives in Small Heath, the one who says she knows you. She told me everything...everything about you"

" Hmm" was all he responded. As he turned back around in his chair to face the window.

"I don't see why she would lie to me" you said as you found the courage to walk closer to his desk.

A slight chuckle left his mouth as he took another drag of his cigarette.

" So you met the crazy old lady who lives on Watery Lane. I wouldn't believe everything she says. She claims to be my grand daughter which is amusing considering I didn't have children and clearly never will" he said with annoyance in his voice.

" She showed me a picture of you and your family" you replied, now on the opposite side of his desk.

" Is that how you knew my name?" he said turning around to face you again.

" I'm sorry?"

Standing up with his hands in his pockets he walked over to the window, leaning against it he stared you down.

" My name, I heard you say it when you was here last"

"No, I found this folder at an antique fair. It was a folder on you and the...Peaky Blinders"

" An antique fair?" He said raising his brows. " I'm a fucking antique now am I" he added as he aggressively stubbed out his cigarette.

"Well it's over a hundr" you started to say only to be interrupted by him.

" Is that what you do miss...?" He asked as he gestured for you to finish his sentence.

" Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N"

" Miss Y/L/N. You go looking for things that don't belong to you?"

"The folder was for sale, I didn't go looking for it" you said trying to defend your passion. " I paid for them fairly just like I paid for that necklace you took from me"

"Huh" he scoffed in response.

"The folder, it looked official. Someone was collecting information on you?" you asked nervously waiting for a response.

He walked around the desk as he did you took three steps back. Sitting on the edge of the old wooden frame he looked at you narrowing his eyes.

" I thought you knew everything about me? He said as he watched you tremble under his glare. He was enjoying this.

" I read the files" you answered clasping your hands together nervously.

" Then you know I was a bad man who did bad things. And still, you came back" he said as he got up walking towards you.

He was intimidating, his stare was piercing. He was now right In front of you, you could feel his cold breath on your cheeks, the smell of smoke on his coat.

"Why did you come back?" he said in a deep voice, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes.

You couldn't think of an answer because you really didn't know the answer. You don't know why you came back.

" I..I don't know, I guess i didn't believe it at first. I wanted to see you again, talk to you"

For a split-second his face softened, and he stepped back away from you. Turning around he made his way back to the leather chair and sat down facing the window again.

"And why would anyone want to see something like me again, hm? Especially someone as young as yourself" you could hear the bitterness in his words, he was angry, angry that his life had been shortened so soon, his dreams and aspirations shortened along with it.

Complete silence filled the room, until you moved closer to him .

"Why do you stay? Why won't you move on?

" Move on" he chuckled. " There's only one place for a man like me to go, and I don't intend on going there anytime soon" Taking out another cigarette he brushed it along his lips, watching you as he lit it with a match" You might be going to heaven sweetheart, but I'm destined to spend eternity somewhere a little warmer" He said with a smirk on his lips.

" The old lady said you're waiting for something?" You asked only for him to ignore your question. Instead all he did was look at you. Like he was studying you, figuring out what your true intentions were, he was not bothered by the way he was making you feel nor the silence that filled the room, but you, you became fidgety. Looking down at your bandaged hand you gently rubbed it trying to ease off some of the pain.

"Chamomile"

"Sorry?" You replied confused.

"For your hand" he said as he pointed at it. " My Aunt would make a tea with chamomile for injuries, whenever we got into scraps.

"I'll try it, thanks" you said as you gave him a small smile. " Wouldn't have needed it.." you mumbled under your breath only to be cut off once again.

" Needed it, if I didn't scare you off?"

" Told me to leave" you corrected him

" I didn't tell you to leave, you ran off" he replied as he pointed to the door.

" Do you scare everyone off that comes in here?" you asked with a small smile, a boost of confidence coming out of nowhere.

" Truth is..." he said as he stood up. " You're the first person to come in here in a long time" . Putting both his hands in his pockets he walked closer to you. You looked familiar, there was something about the way you smiled, the way your eyes lit up when you did, he couldn't place where he had seen it before, but there was a certain familiarity to it.

" You talk to everyone that comes in here?"

" No. But you knew my name" he said pointing at you as he raised his eyebrows.

"And now you know mine" you said meeting his eyes.

"That I do" he answered as he watched you fidget with your sleeves again. Was you always this restless he wondered. The strange girl that couldn't keep away when anybody else would run a hundred miles. He could scare you off indefinitely make you never step another foot in this building ever again, but he didn't. It wasn't just the familiarity of your face that stopped him from making you leave, there was something else...did he know you?

Looking out the window you noticed the winter evening sky already darkening.

"I should be going" you said closing your coat around you from the cold. " I'll come back, tomorrow? " You said looking at him, waiting for him to reply" But he didn't. "Goodnight Thomas" you said as you quietly left his office. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you as you left for the second time. Just as you reached the stairs you heard his voice.

"Goodnight Miss Y/L/N"

NEXT PART

[obitohno]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]

truth or

bakugo katsuki x reader

synopsis ⤸

after being dared to call a sex hotline, bakugo can’t believe his luck when it is you who answers.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, sex hotline worker! reader, phone sex, guided masturbation, voice kink, praise, mutual pining, masturbation, handjobs, fingering, ejaculation

word count ⤸

2k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

soooo, you guys seemed to enjoy the husband! bakugo hc that i posted the other day, n bc i really enjoyed writing about him, i decided that i just had to add him to my kinktober. pls let me know what you think! ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

the evening starts with what bakugo is convinced to be the most ridiculous dare that he’s ever been subjected to. 

at first, he’d thought that he’d misheard kirishima’s request, because he’s adamant that he’d almost been deafened by the obnoxiously loud music that had blared from denki’s speakers, only to be then stricken by disbelief once he’d realised that he hadn’t misheard, because what the fuck? he does not need to release any built up tension, or whatever dumb excuse that his scarlet haired friend had guffawed when he’d noticed the enraged scowl that had immediately marred bakugo’s features upon receiving his dare. 

but now, hours later, he sits on the edge of his bed, thumb hesitating over the green circular icon that has nerves gnawing at the lining of his stomach. it was kirishima who’d given him the number, and as he stares at the digits, he questions why he’d agreed to take part in such a childish game in the first place. 

the answer to his question appears in the form of the memory of the smile that had stretched kirishima’s lips from cheek to cheek, so wide that his eyes had crinkled shut. 

irritation has him scoffing under his breath, because, despite the fact that his shitty haired friend would never know if he decided to forfeit the dare, an annoyingly large part of him is now curious. 

it’s just past midnight, his apartment enshrouded by darkness, and the blinding light that gleams from the screen of his phone has him squinting, brows pinching together. unceremoniously, he slaps his thumb over the dial button, and after being connected to an automated system that has him reading his card details aloud, his options are recited via a robotic voice that makes him feel a tad anxious about the prospect of being scammed. still, he tries—and fails—to place his dwindling faith upon the anonymous reviews that he’d read online, and after choosing a random option from the menu, he listens as the phone rings. 

and rings. 

and rings. 

he’s glaring once more, huffing a string of curses under his breath, when suddenly, the call connects, and he’s greeted by a sultry murmur that has his spine stiffening. 

‘hello, there.’ 

and instantly, the blood in his veins freezes to ice. 

it’s you. 

your absence had been noticeable at kirishima’s monthly get-together, and when you’d passed on your apologies through ochako, who had recited your excuse about being caught up at work, this isn’t at all what bakugo had had in mind. 

it’s hardly a secret, the admiration that he’s harboured toward you for some years now, and yet, somehow, you are the only one who is oblivious to his infatuation. though he would never admit it so, it is the fear of rejection that has aided him with maintaining the strictly platonic relationship that the two of you have nurtured over the years, but he’d also have to label himself a liar if he denied the fact that he’s spent many a night imagining what your voice sounds like when in the throes of passion. 

but today, it seems, he’ll finally receive the answer to that question. 

for a long moment, he’s stunned into silence, vermillion coloured eyes widened as he stares down at the timer that continues to tick with each second spent without a word passed between the two of you. his mind whirls, debating on whether he should end the call and pretend that his entire face isn’t aflame with mortification, or if he should give into the temptation that is spurred on by his curiosity. 

eventually, it is you who breaks the quietude. 

‘hello?’ 

and then because he doesn’t know what else to say, and not because he panics, he loudly blurts your name, the air rushed from his lungs. 

you recognise the rough drawl that can only belong to him, and now it is you who is shocked into silence. frowning, he listens to the gentle sound of your breath, before it hitches, his name whispered from your end of the line. an awkward giggle follows next, strained with a tone that bakugo chooses not to dwell on, solely for the sake of preserving his own sanity. 

you pause, hesitating before you ask, ‘how’d you get this number?’ 

he huffs, because of all the things to ask him, that is what you choose to dwell on? 

grunting, he answers your question with one of his own, ‘s’that what you say to all your customers?’ 

his attempt to ease the tension works, and you actually manage to choke out a genuine laugh, and with it, relief floods from his lips in the shape of a sigh. 

‘never had any complaints before,’ you joke, and he has to swallow down the ugly churning of envy that bubbles at the centre of his chest. 

you’re not his, he has to remind himself. again. 

and even if you were, a job is a job, even if it kills him to know that he’s only just finding out that potentially hundreds of others have heard the way that you sound when aroused. 

but now, it’s his turn. 

‘really, though… why’d you call?’ 

he could’ve—should’ve—thought of literally any excuse in the world, but instead, he settles upon the truth; ‘shitty hair dared me.’ 

‘oh.’ 

your answer is blunt, and even to him, it sounds forced. 

‘well, i, uh… i’m still on shift, so i’ll disconnect the call and have them send you a refund—’

the words are rushed; you’re opting for an escape, he recognises. the slur of your words is interrupted, however, when his tone lowers to a grunt as he asks, ‘what if i don’t want a refund?’ 

there’s a pause, and then a, ‘don’t be stupid, ‘suki—’

white knuckled, he clutches at his phone, raising the microphone a tad closer to his mouth. ‘what if i want what i’m payin’ for?’ 

eagerly, he listens to the soft exhale that flutters through the speaker. 

something shifts, the atmosphere suddenly charged with a tension that bakugo can’t quite put his finger on. anticipation has his blood thrumming, perspiration forming at the centre of his palms, and he swallows thickly. 

‘you… you want—?’ 

you pause, voice catching on the unspoken question. still, he’d be deaf to not recognise the lilting of your tone, your interest evident in the way that your breath quickens. 

‘that a problem?’ 

‘no!’ your raised voice startles him, almost deafens him with the speaker raised so close to his ear. ‘i mean, uh—no. sorry. that’s… that’s fine. more than fine.’ 

your coy tone is endearing, and he huffs a curt chuckle down the speaker. the noise has you spluttering, and he wishes that he could see your face. there’s a brief moment of silence, but when next you speak, your voice has dipped, taking upon the sultry tone that you’d greeted him with. 

‘i’ve thought about this before, y’know?’ 

surprise have his brows raising. 

‘yeah?’ he’s shifting, moving along the mattress in order to lean against the wall. legs stretched, his feet dangling over the edge of the bed. an exhale is breathed from between his nostrils, ‘what you been thinkin’?’ 

the giggle that he’s come to adore trickles through the speaker, and he finds that the corners of his mouth stretch without his meaning to. 

‘that i’ve wanted to hear you cum for such a long time.’ 

bakugo can’t help the choked moan that heaves from his chest. ‘f-fuck—you have?’ he’s already palming at the bulge that is quickly expanding in size beneath the cotton fabric of his sweatpants, the familiar ache of arousal coiling tight within his abdomen. the sound of fabric rustling follows the quiet moan that comes from your end of the line. 

‘’suki,’ you breathe his name, ‘be a good boy and take off your clothes for me.’ 

he’s never followed an order so quickly. 

the soft grey sweats are shimmied down the muscles length of his legs, and then kicked from his ankles, the fabric flying to the carpet, rapidly joined by the t-shirt that is ripped from over the top of his head. the decision to forgo any form of underwear is one that aids the temptation to touch himself—one that he gives into. however, his fingertips are just ghosting over his reddened tip, when your next instruction has his fist clenching into the bedsheets, a strained groan escaping him.

‘not yet, ‘suki.’ 

‘c’mon,’ the back of his head thumps against the wall, and he forces a strained laugh. ‘don’t—’

‘don’t…?’ you interrupt, and he can hear your damned smile. ‘thought you wanted this.’ 

fuck him, because he does want this—how could you not know how desperate he is for you?

and fuck you, because he’s known for a long time that you’re going to be the death of him. 

his cock agrees, wetly twitching against the crook of which his hip meets his thigh. his head is dizzy with the fire-like arousal that scorches his veins, and he can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed by the way that his slit is leaking a mess all over. his balls are heavy and full where they hang between his legs, and each time that his length throbs, they tighten with the need to spill his seed into a hole that waits for him on the other end of the line. 

your wanton moan has him echoing the sound back to you, brows knitted tightly together as his hips buck, a smattering of sweat beginning to form at his temples. 

‘’suki, i—’ he strains to hear the muted schlick, schlick, schlick of your pretty fingers drilling into the very cunt that has haunted his thoughts and manipulated his dreams since the day he met you. it’s insane, how much it turns him on to know that you’re like this because of him, rendered speechless as you pleasure yourself. the sound of your arousal has the ache worsening, and with it, grows the craving to reach for the length that hums with the need to climax. 

‘please,’ his plea is roughly gasped into the microphone, and your answer is one that has his shoulders sagging with relief. 

‘need you to touch yourself, for me, ‘suki—ah!—just… just the tip, though, ‘kay?’ 

eager, his fingers follow your instruction, gently grazing over the bulbous tip that glistens, stained with the evidence of his arousal. the pad of his thumb strokes over his frenulum, and the twang of electric heat has him groaning, slack jawed as he spreads the translucent stickiness over the bundle of nerves that sing their approval. his toes curl, hips canting upward, and his fingers form a fist, curled tight around the scarlet coloured tip that is yet to stop leaking. 

his fist twists, and it’s a mistake, as his thighs shake with the effort to prevent the inevitable release that begs to be freed. ever so sweetly, you finally grant him permission to drag his palm down the width of his girth, and he swears under his breath, eyelids scrunched shut as his muscles flex, pelvis rolling to repeatedly fill the curl of his fingers. 

you’re giggling something unintelligible, having given up on the pretence of instructing the uneven glide of his fist, moaning along with him as he grunts and gasps and groans his approval in the shape of your name. suddenly, the song you sing crests in pitch, and he holds his breath, greedily listening to the way that you wail his name, a broken sob quickly following the spray of your sap that clings to your inner thighs in a sticky mess. 

he promptly decides that this is his new favourite sound. 

your orgasm has his own breaching with just a hurried tug of his fist, and he comes undone with a sharp yell. pearl-coloured lava oozes from his slit in a rapid succession of spurts that dribble down the ridges of his abdominal muscles like treacle, the pulse of his blood deafening as it thunders down the shells of his ears. erratically, his lungs expand and contract, desperately attempting to settle the uneven hitching of his breath. you recover far quicker than he does, and the sound of your breathless titter has a grin of his own slanting the corners of his mouth, his cheeks aflame. 

‘so… about that refund.’ 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

[liightsout]

the blue - part two

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✯ summary: danny meets adam at a mclaren christmas party. danny and mattie meet ✯

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!oc

✯ content warnings: light swearing, alcohol consumption ✯

✯ now playing: 'tis the damn season - taylor swift ✯

✯ series masterlist ✯

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December 2020

Danny stared at the large glass building in front of him debating whether to enter or wait around for someone he vaguely knew to walk in with. 

Like an answered prayer he heard a voice call out through the cold December air. “Mate, what are you doing out here still? It’s fucking freezing”. 

Turning his attention to the now open door he saw his team mate for the next 2 years was standing in front of him. 

Danny knew he was lucky to have Lando as a team mate. Not only was he a good driver, one of the best of the younger generation he’d seen in fact, but he was also immensely easy to get along with. He knew all he had to do was get the younger driver laughing and they’d be fast friends, although he doubted they’d be as close as he and Carlos were. 

He walked towards Lando, shrugging his shoulders and flashing his signature smile at the Brit. He wasn’t going to admit he found himself nervous at the prospect of meeting all of his new team at such a major event. 

Tonight was the Mclaren annual Christmas gala. All of the staff were gathered at MTC for food, drinks and socialsing. Everyone was decked out in their finest clothes and ready to spend the night drinking expensive champagne and toasting to an exciting new year in 2021 with their new driver lineup and promising new car. 

Lando led Danny inside the building, the younger of the two immediately pointing out who everyone was and filling him in on who he should and shouldn’t bother speaking to tonight.

“That’s Linda from HR, you’ll want to avoid her, she can get a bit touchy feely once she’s had a drink or two, and over there by the bar is most of the engineers, come on, I’ll introduce you to them.”

The pair headed for the bar, stopping every few steps for the obligatory handshake and smile at the staff eager to meet the Aussie. 

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as Lando pushed a drink into his hand, not really caring what it was he took a large gulp and turned himself to the curious eyes of his new engineer team. 

After a lot of introductions, bantering back and forth and numerous shots bought for him by the team he started to feel more at ease. 

He found himself thrown into conversation with Lando and one of the engineers, Adam, who he had learned quickly was one of Lando’s friends on the team. The pair were discussing how they needed to meet up for a game of Top Golf before the new season started. 

“How’s Matilda doing with her new job by the way? I know you said she was super busy, I’m surprised you didn’t bring her along with you” Lando asked his friend. 

Adam chuckled, clearly Lando didn’t know Matilda all that well. This event would be her worst nightmare, too many people, too much noise. 

“Yeah good mate, she’s smashing it actually, got loads of clients and making a name for herself, I’m so fucking proud of her. But nah she’s not here, not really her scene, I reckon I might be able to convince her to pick me up later though so I don’t have to pay for an Uber”. 

Adam and Lando laughed, nodding their heads in agreement at the ridiculous prince an Uber from Woking to London would cost. 

“Is that your girlfriend? Matilda?” Danny asked curiously. The question earned a laugh from the Brits in response. 

“He wishes” Lando exclaimed as Adam shook his head at the comment “nah mate, she’s my best friend, been that way since we were kids.” 

“She’s proper fit though Danny. Adam get your phone out and show him before I do” Lando slurred towards the Aussie, his eyes lighting up as he quipped at his friend.

Adam’s hand came out quickly, jokingly pushing his friend in response to the comment. 

“She actually thinks Danny is pretty hot if I’m honest, so you’ve got some competition Lando” Adam bantered back at him.

Danny felt his face flush, feeling immediately grateful for the low lighting covering the light blush gracing the top of his cheeks. He should have been used to this by now. He was no stranger to females finding him attractive, and some not being shy about it, but it didn’t make it any less flattering when it did happen. 

Lando pulled his phone out of his blazer pocket and opened up Instagram, quickly finding the profile he was looking for. Danny’s eyes adjusted as he looked at the screen in front of him. 

Lando was right, she was fit. More than that, she was beautiful. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually seen anyone that pretty before. Her beauty felt classic, understated. It was when he heard Lando snort he realised he’d been staring for a little too long at the phone screen before him. He quickly averted his eyes, making a mental note of the username on the screen. 

“Yeah she’s pretty” he spoke the words slowly, attempting to downplay how struck he had been by this girl, not wanting to annoy her best friend, his new engineer. 

Luckily Adam was quite used to his male friends reminding him of how gorgeous his best friend was. In all honesty he found Danny’s attraction to his best friend amusing, knowing that if when he got home he told her of it, she’d never believe him in a million years. 

Adam sensed the Aussie’s nervousness and decided to change the subject. 

“Shots anyone?” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mattie really didn’t mind living with Adam. The pair had lived together from the minute they’d finished college and gone off to university together, opting to share a flat off campus instead of paying for student accommodation. 

Once they had finished higher education they once again made the decision to move to the outskirts of London together. Neither wishing to attempt to afford London rent on their own. 

She didn’t care that he was sometimes messy. She didn’t moan when he sometimes left the toilet seat up. She barely even noticed when he would neglect to hoover the floor properly when he offered to tidy up the flat. 

She did, however, care when he came home at 3AM drunk as hell making as much noise as a bull in a china shop. This was the exact scenario she found herself in. 

She heard the front door swing open and slam against the radiator a quiet “fuck” echoing out into the quiet flat as he realised how noisy he had been. 

She heard him enter the kitchen and start banging various different pans around, that had once been neatly stacked in the drawer below the stove. She then heard the fridge door swing open and hushed laughter as the sounds of items hitting the tiled floor echoed round the flat. 

Mattie waited patiently through 10 minutes of banging and crashing for the noise to stop. She soon realised it would not be ending any time soon. With a groan she forced herself out of bed and slid her feet into the slippers that were neatly placed by her dresser. 

Swinging the door open she found herself stomping down the hallway and into the open plan kitchen and living room.

“Adam, what the actual fuck are you doing? It’s 3AM and I have a meeting in 5 hours! You promised you’d be quiet when you came home! You’re such a-” the girl stopped dead in her tracks. 

Why the fuck was Daniel Ricciardo standing in her living room smiling at her? 

“Hi there, I’m Danny” the Aussie said with a grin on his face, his hand extending out towards her to shake. 

Danny took this moment to get a good look at the girl who’s picture had been running around in his mind for the last 6 hours. 

There she stood, long brown hair clumsily pulled up into a bun on top of her head, an oversized sweater on her body and short cycling shorts barely covering her legs, a pair of fuzzy slippers on her feet. Not an inch of any makeup on her face, just a frown which was quickly turning into a look of confusion the longer she stared at him. 

“Yep” he thought “definitely pretty”. 

Dumbstruck, Mattie extended her hand towards the man in front of her. Was she dreaming? She wasn’t sure. The moment their hands touched Mattie knew this was not a dream. 

His large warm hand engulfed her much smaller, colder one. His firm grip sent shockwaves up her arm and straight to her heart. She felt as if she had been set on fire. Pulling back her hand quickly she tucked her hands into the pouch of her sweater. 

“I’m Mattie, sorry for shouting, that was really rude of me, I just-” the girl rambled as she searched for the right words to make the situation any less embarrassing. 

“Oh no, no, don’t apologise. Adam didn’t mention he had a roommate, otherwise I would have offered we go back to mine instead of his. We got a cab home together from the gala and we fancied a late night snack, didn’t mean to be so loud and wake you up. I’m really sorry, I feel awful” the Aussie replied. 

“It’s ok, not your fault, it’s typical Adam, he goes a bit dumb once he’s had a couple drinks… speaking of, where is he?” Mattie questioned, her eyes darting around the room looking for her friend. 

“He was about to start making a sandwich, and I won’t lie, I think he heard you coming and ran to hide in his bedroom… look I’ll head out, I don’t want to cause any more of an issue and I feel bad for waking you up” Danny stated looking round the room for his jacket and shoes that had been clumsily discarded once they’d entered the flat. 

“Don’t be silly, it’s so late, or early, whatever you wanna call it. You can crash on the sofa if you like? It’s not exactly the 5 star you might be used to, but it’s comfy enough” the girl offered, grabbing some of the pillows and blankets she had around the room for when she needed to curl up and get comfy. She placed them on the sofa beside them, gesturing for him to make himself at home. 

“Only if you’re sure babe, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable”. The word slipped off his tongue before he could stop himself. Internally cursing himself he hoped she didn’t notice. A beat of silence passed around the room. Judging from the blush now scattered across her cheeks, she definitely did. 

“Oh urm, yeah, of course it’s fine, anyway, I need to get to sleep. If you see Adam tell him he owes me a muffin from the bakery across the street when he wakes up from his drunken stupor” Mattie joked, growing nervous at the nickname the man before her had used so easily. 

Mattie gave a parting wave and headed back to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Once the door had closed she released the breath she felt she had been holding for the last few minutes. 

Crawling back into bed she felt the anxiety creep in. Mentally replaying the interaction she had just had with Danny in her head over and over again. 

She was going to kill Adam in the morning. 

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✯ authors note: hi hi. on a bit of a roll last few days with writing, let's hope it continues! thank you all for the likes and follows, it honestly makes my day a little brighter when i get the notifications <3 ✯

[phaticserpent]

You Call This ‘Fate’?

You’re friends with Helen Cho and she promises you the ‘best night of your life’ at Tony’s party. You didn’t really expect to get caught in the conflict between Ultron and the Avengers

Warning: Mention of character death, angst, slight fluff

NOTE: this was honestly the 1k fic i was planning to do....but I didn’t like it and the pacing, so this is just a drabble. So, THIS IS NOT THE 1K FIC (enjoy this while I try to rewrite something else)

Word count: 2,716

It had been some time since you and Ultron met; it was unfortunately, through Tony's luxurious party. 

You were invited to the grand party on the Avengers Tower, though you were a little skeptical. Your friend, Dr. Helen Cho insisted on your company. You constantly reassured that she would do fine on her own and how she wouldn't even have to worry, but she managed to convince you. So here you were, standing awkwardly with people that have higher class than you. Feeling overwhelmed, you slipped away to a more less crowded area, which was the bar. 

"Hey (Y/N)," Natasha greeted and you awkwardly smiled. "Want a refresher?" 

"Yes please, just water." You smiled. She nodded in understanding and you waited patiently for your drink. Soon enough, Natasha pushed over a tall drink of cold water. "Thanks so much." 

"Not a problem." She winked. "So how are you liking the party?" 

"Oh, it's a little too class for me." 

"Ah, I get it." She nodded. "Well, you're always free to rest up here, I can personally ask for a private room for you." 

"Oh, no need." You smiled. Before you could thank Natasha, your friend walked up to you. 

"(Y/N), come, come join us!" Helen laughed. You shot Natasha a grateful look before being pulled away by Helen. "Are you enjoying the party?" 

"I should ask you that." You laughed. "How are you enjoying it? Is Thor the man of your dreams?" You and Helen burst out laughing as she tried to hide her flushed face. 

"Oh, I don't know." She finally said. "He has a girlfriend, I don't want to come between them." 

"Ah," you silently panicked. "I'm sure you'll find someone better! Hey, who needs Avengers as a partner? They'll be awful boyfriends anyways." You did your best to reassure her and she was grateful. She insisted that you could leave as the party died down, but you insisted upon staying. 

You were just exiting the bathroom when the Avengers were settled in a certain area, including Helen. You silently made your way over as they were in the midst of debating whether or not they were worthy. Worthy of what? You watched as each member took turns in trying to lift Mjolnir. 

"Widow?" They all glanced at Natasha, who seemed shocked at their suggestion. 

"Oh no, that's not a question I need answering." She declined. There was slight laughter as they continued to debate about it. The atmosphere was interrupted with a piercing ring, and everyone immediately doubled down or covered their ears. 

"No…." A metallic voice rang out and everyone turned to the source. "How could you be worthy? You're all killers." 

"Stark?….." 

"Jarvis….." Tony started, clicking at the buttons impatiently. 

"I'm sorry, I was asleep." The robot answered. "Or I was a-dream." 

"Reboot Legionnaire OS….we got a buggy suit." Tony instructed, but nothing happened. 

"There was a terrible noise……And I was tangled in….in strings." The robot looked down to emphasize their claim. "I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy." 

"You killed someone?" 

"Wouldn't have been my first call," it replied. "But, down in the real world we're faced with ugly choices." 

"Who sent you?" Thor interjected. In which the robot played back a recording. 

"I see a suit of armor around the world." 

"Ultron!" Bruce realized, turning to Tony. You couldn't see their expressions, but you knew they were shocked. 

"In the flesh." It exclaimed. "Or, no, not yet…..not this chrysalis." You eyed Agent Hills and how she had her gun cocked. 

"(Y/N)–" Helen grabbed your arm. 

"I'm on mission." 

"What mission?" 

It turned to look directly at Natasha, "peace in our time." Just then, there was glass shattering everywhere. You and Helen immediately ducked down from the commotion as you heard gunshots being fired. Helen quickly dragged you away from the chaos, hiding behind a piano. You and Helen watched as the Avengers battled against Tony's Iron Legion; you had been a little distracted when Helen tugged on your sleeve, she was backing away from an approaching suit. You tried to intervene and stick yourself in between, but she held firmly. Steve immediately rushed to your aid, tossing the suit to Thor, who crushed it with his hammer. "That was dramatic." 

"Are you two okay?" Agent Hills asked you both; the two of you nodded. The chaos ceased and everyone stared warily at Ultron. 

"I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through…..you want to protect the world but you don't want it to change." Ultron sighed. "How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to…..evolve? With these?" He picked up a fallen Iron Legionnaire before tossing it away. 

"These puppets. There's only one path to peace. The Avengers' extinction." He claimed, but Thor quickly threw his hammer as the suit crumpled to the ground. That night ended on a dim notice, you quickly dismissed yourself back to the hotel you and Helen were staying at.

"Get back safe." She gave you a tired smile. 

"You're not coming?" 

"Tony insists on me staying for a while, but I'll get back later." You nodded in understanding as you bid farewell to the other Avengers. You couldn't help but feel a little uneasy as you went outside to walk through the city streets, and that dread never wavered even after you entered your hotel room. 

Ever since then, you had one run-in with Ultron. You were on your way to visit Helen, when you stood in the hallway between the exit and Ultron. There was no way you could hold him down while the Avengers were on their way; the only reasonable outcome to your survival was to point out a mistake of his. 

"Are you seriously going to escape in a truck from our lab?" You questioned. To which he just stared at you quizzically, before recollecting his error. "For an artificial intelligence, I thought you would be smarter than that." Now you were just testing your luck. 

"And what would you have me do?" 

You were hoping you wouldn't be blasted on the spot; your plan consisted of two Ultron, which meant that he would have to bring his backup. The backup would oversee the Vision, while the current one would get away, in case anything happened. So the other Avengers wouldn't be suspicious. You then added, "that's just my thoughts…..you could do it your way." You just hoped that Helen was okay. 

"Let's say I go with your plan, where do you recommend me to hide? A hotel?" Ultron snorted sarcastically. 

"You can't just fly back to your hideout?" 

"Chances are, they'll fly here with a quinjet, which could pick up my signal before I could leave the premises." 

"Oh." You sighed. "Well….I do have a place in mind." 

You didn't know why you were letting an 8ft tall A.I into your home. You stood awkwardly as he stood a couple of meters from you. 

"You're really something." Ultron let out a throaty chuckle. "Letting me into your home, just…like…that." 

"I will throw you out the window." You snorted. Ultron opened his mouth but you interrupted him, "if I hear one more snarky thing out of your mouth, I will alert the Avengers." 

"That's funny," Ultron started. "You're acting as if I haven't cut communications here." Your smile dropped as you reached for your phone. Ultron stood smugly as you noticed the lack of signal. 

"You lil shit." You breathed. 

"Well, you better let me leave in one piece if you want your signal back." Ultron bargained. You sighed in defeat and nodded. As it grew closer to midnight, you were fighting every urge to fall asleep. You haven't even showered, in which you could feel Ultron silently judging you. "Aren't you going to–"

"Shower? Sleep? Hardly, with you near me." You scoffed. Ultron just rolled his eyes. "How can I trust that you won't leave?" 

"You're just going to have to trust me." Ultron sighed. ".....I really don't have anywhere to go." You turned to face him, a little startled by his tone. Deciding to trust him, you slipped into the bathroom to finally take a shower. Though you were still paranoid, you finished quickly before nearly running out of the bathroom once you were clothed, to see Ultron sitting on the couch. He seemed rather bored. Well, if I were an intelligent being, I would be bored too. 

As you walked down the stairs, Ultron turned to look at you. "Told you I wouldn't leave." 

"Uh-huh." You scoffed. "What next? You're gonna tell me to sleep?" 

"Yes." He said nonchalantly. You rolled your eyes as you sat down on the couch. He then stood up and began walking to your bedroom. He seemed to wait for you, turning a bit to make eye contact. You let out a huff before following. Ultron stood by the doorway, his arms crossed as he stared at the bed. "Huh, that's going to be a problem." 

"What, is my bed too small for you?" 

"I can sleep on the couch." Ultron insisted. 

"You sleep?" 

He sighed, "I have a power down mode." Before he turned around to leave, you instinctively grabbed his arm. Which he quickly yanked away from your touch. "Don't." 

"Don't….leave." You pleaded. His eyes scanned your eyes before tilting his head up in defeat. "Besides, how am I supposed to know you won't sneak off in the middle of the night? You could kill me in my sleep for all I know." 

"I would never." He growled. Though you held your ground, he could see the slight fear in your eyes at his tone. Ultron inched away from you as you cleared your throat. 

"W-well if you wouldn't, then get in the bed." You responded. Without a single protest, he gently put his weight on the bed, pausing when it creaked dangerously. He gave you a look that you ignored. "Move." You scoffed, pushing him to the edge as you settled on the other half of the bed. 

The two of you remained awake. "My systems deem you as a threat….I won't be able to power down if you're near." 

"Sucks for your system, I'm not going to sleep until you power down." You declared. Ultron let out a huff and you smiled to yourself. Soon enough, you could hear a faint sound of him shutting down. It was….strangely human; though the sound was very machine-like, you could feel that he was sleeping. Like how you could tell when people were drifting to sleep. Dismissing your thoughts, you eventually drifted off to sleep a couple minutes after. 

You felt warm, a little too warm. Without opening your eyes, you could see that it was morning and your room was illuminated by the sun. You cracked your eyes open but you were confused by what you saw. Instead of seeing your bedroom floor, you saw shiny metal. Slowly, you pulled away and your arms felt numb. As your eyesight became clearer, everything else was suddenly transparent. Ultron had his arms around you and you had clung onto him during the night. You tried to pry yourself away, but his grip was unbearably strong for someone being in power-down mode. You dreaded his reaction when he woke up. As if on cue, you could hear his systems whir back to life and your face paled as he blinked. 

Ultron froze as your wide eyed expression came into view. "Morning." You awkwardly greeted. Quickly, he pulled his arms away, allowing you to distance yourself. 

"Uh, morning." He replied. "I'm sorry about…the night." 

"N-no no, don't be. It happens." You stammered. Though, you were curious about one thing. Ultron had his back to you, and you took advantage of that by gently placing your hand on him. "Although….you are strangely warm." 

Ultron tensed from your touch, but he didn't pull or push you away. "I designed myself that way….to reflect basic human bodily functions; I can warm myself and cool myself." 

"That's really cool….you really put a lot of thought and research into it." 

"....thank you." Ultron sighed. You could feel the shift in his gears as his body loosened. Awkwardly, you retracted your hand from him. "Aw, I was just getting used to your touch." He drawled. 

"Pity." You pouted before getting out of bed. "I take it, you don't eat." 

"Ha ha," He laughed sarcastically. "Of course I don't eat. Haven't really gotten to that part yet." 

"You're seriously missing out." You sung out. Ultron just rolled his eyes as he quietly yearned for your touch. 

"Tell me about it." He chuckled. Soon enough, Ultron followed after you, into the kitchen where he peered down. 

"I'm sure the Avengers are no longer near, so you're free to leave." You felt his looming presence behind and over you. You turned to face him, "thanks for not killing me." 

"Pft, you sure are charming." Ultron laughed. 

"I try to be." You grinned. He shook his head in astonishment before he settled down. "Wait…..do you…..?" You searched his optics and Ultron silently panicked that you had figured him out. 

".....you laughed! You find me funny!" You beamed. He thanked that you were a little slow. 

"Of course, I have a sense of humor." He said it like he was offended by your observation. "To be honest, I'd rather stay…..just for a few minutes." 

"Oh, uh….yeah, sure! It's your decision, not mine. You're welcome to leave anytime." You turned away to continue prepping breakfast. Ultron didn't know what this new emotion was, he was feeling something but he couldn't explain it. It took everything in him to hold himself back from hugging you. Though, he promptly stopped himself by focusing on your breakfast. 

"Is that it?" 

"What?" You asked. "I don't have time to cook a full meal." 

"Take that out of your mouth." Ultron sighed. "I'll prep you something." You hesitantly pulled the bread out of your mouth as he started filing through your refrigerator. 

"...seriously, I can't eat that much for breakfast." 

"Cause you keep eating small." Ultron dismissed. You huffed and set the bread aside, slowly moving to the couch to wait. You slumped on the couch, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger. "Don't slouch." He barely gave you a glance. 

"Jesus…." You breathed out, fixing your posture before flipping through your phone. The signal was back on. You didn't dare to call for help, as Ultron was comfortably making breakfast but you were curious from the endless onslaught of messages. Your eyes widened and your heart ached at the news; Helen Cho was attacked and harmed. She didn't make it and the person who harmed her……..

Was in the same room as you. You set your phone down just as Ultron proudly announced that breakfast was ready. You had no explanation how, but the spark and light in his eyes disappeared when he saw your expression. 

"What?" He asked. "....what's wrong?" 

"Ultron, did you….you…..what did you do to my friend?" You breathed, trying to suppress yourself. "Helen…." There was a long pause. He was as still as a statue and you were convinced you were talking to one. 

Ultron slowly placed the pan on the counter before speaking,  "(Y/N), I….." The pause was unbearable, and it didn't matter how carefully he would word it, your best friend's murderer was standing in front of you.  

"Ultron…..I'm going to ask one more time, what did you do to my friend?" You felt the tears rise in your eyes. Your rage only grew when he couldn't meet your eyes, but that action alone told you everything you needed to know. "Get out." 

"(Y/N) please–"

"Get. Out." He quickly left without another word. Once you knew he was gone, you fell to the floor and quietly sobbed. In truth, he was on the opposite side of the door. His fists clenched in regret and hatred as he heard you cry. He left momentarily, unable to handle anymore of your sobs. You were overwhelmed with all the emotions; grief, anger, hatred, sadness, shock, perhaps even relief that he hadn't killed you, or disappointment that he hadn't killed you. At least you would’ve been reunited with your friend then. 

[spoiledleaff]

Why did you disappear for so long?? I feel like you abandoned your blog and friends and stuff for a bit lol Are you okay??

sure. let's talk about this :) i've had a lot of asks lately asking if i was okay during my hiatus//if i'm okay now that i'm trying to make an effort to come back, and, the short answer is no. i'm not.

i was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (bpd).

cw :: massive vent + personal, medical talk regarding my mental health and thought process. honestly just a lot of oversharing, because i don't have an outlet for this irl, haha! for all intents + purposes, everything below this line is a trauma-dump. please take care of yourself.

for unnecessary context, haha! i went on a hiatus for about half a year, abandoned this blog, destroyed many old wips and interactions i had with the ghost fandom + distanced myself from the friends i've made on this site through ao3 and/or tumblr with no context or goodbyes. my mental health was, and continues to be, in shambles.

i had a homelessness scare + a series of bad physical health scares that almost led me to a brain cancer diagnosis, so... that was fun, haha. but this is probably the main thing.

borderline personality disorder (bpd) is a mental health condition that mainly affects people through extreme mood swings, unstable relationships, trouble controlling their emotions, + often times self-destructive behavior. one of the main symptoms that most people with bpd suffer is fear/perception of abandonment + a constant feeling of emptiness. in addition to this, i have a deeply ingrained socially anxious mindset + i am neurodivergent.

it runs in my family. and, apparently, its running its course through me as well, haha.

i am exhausted. i find myself stuck in an endless cycle, especially on this site, where i am so incredibly excited to interact with the people i've been fortunately enough to find on this site through my work but i distance myself almost immediately when i worry that i start to get too close to someone.

i am so afraid of being abandoned/left behind, that i would rather abandon someone else and disappear.

as a side effect of my bpd, i mainly struggle with paranoia, disassociation, a short temper, feelings of emptiness + an unreliable self-image.

this, unfortunately, affects my relationships here a lot.

i hate my work. i hate myself. sometimes i even hate my friends and then that always spirals into hating their friends, even if it's people who i know are lovely or i have never even fucking met before. i hate this site + ao3, i hate my fandoms, i hate this blog, and i sometimes find myself hating everyone and everything i've ever known and seen. it's a constant cycle of hatred followed by an emptiness that my work will never be good enough, my friendships will never be good enough, my stories will never be good enough, and i will never be good enough. i rarely find joy in these things anymore.

i find myself so desperate + anxious for a little bit of positive social interaction that i overthink every possible scenario, panic, and then vaguely cut ties before i think the other person will.

i cannot begin to describe to you the constant debate i have with myself about whether or not i should delete this blog, permanently remove everything and anything i've ever written on ao3, before inevitably trying to start anew with maybe another penname, another account.

but i've always liked routine. calling myself some variation of 'leaff' on the internet is a part of that. i don't know what else to call myself—people would know it's me.

i'd really like that. i'd fucking hate it too.

so, i've distanced myself from the fandoms + from the people who interact with my content. i do the bare minimum with friends, and sometimes not even that. i ghost people always, worry about what to say next to the point that i've genuinely convinced myself that i've responded, i do the bare minimum, wash, rinse, repeat.

i post my shit, giggle about this and debate about that, disappear for a bit, before inevitably coming back.

i do enjoy the work that i do, sometimes i'm even proud of it. but it's such an inconsistent whirlwind in my mind that i find myself hating it all just as a default.

if you're someone who has had the misfortune of interacting with me, and you wonder if i hate you. i don't.

i promise. not like that, at least.

i'm not going to therapy for this; i can't afford it. i'm trying to find a way to possibly be medicated for this, but i don't have the greatest insurance. i'm trying to train myself into a nicer, more positive mindset; it's hard.

but i'm trying. i'm still very uneducated about this. i'm still coming to terms with the fact that i might be aroace. i think it's why my writing is getting worse, or, at least, why i've been so distraught and unhappy with it. i think this might tie into why i'm so afraid to post anything other than porn; i think it might also be why i'm starting to hate writing it.

i think i'm still coming to terms with the fact that i'm simply unhappy with life, haha.

i didn't mean for this to become such a huge ramble — i think that's why i'm answering this at such an unpopular//late time, haha! — but i've had a surprising amount of asks in my inbox asking about me.

it's weird. i'm not really used to that. i think that's part of the reason why it took me so long.

regardless, this is why i disappeared. this is why i've been distant, this is why i ghosted you, and this is what will probably happen again in the near future. at least it's consistent, i guess.

thank you for your concern. if you made it this far, damn. i wish i had your attention span sometimes, haha. also i'm sorry for never answering your messages or for never reaching out in the first place. it's very easy to convince myself that you don't want me to, that i might be a trophy friend, that what we had was never real.

i'm sorry that after all this time this is how you might be hearing about it.

thank you for being patient with me.

i'm sorry you have to be so patient to begin with.

i think that's all i have to say :) it's a new road for me, and it's one that i don't want to travel. but i have to. i think it might help me in the long run if i do this all now.

so... yeah! :) haha, a bit of leafy lore, if you will. just, maybe not the fun kind, haha!

[braveclementine]

We Get Some Help

Warnings: 18+readersonly, smut, jealousy!fucking, pet names, personality sharing, harsh fucking, restraints/bondage, pet names, Lord kink, ragdoll treatment

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Carlisle, Esme, and I were now walking rather hurriedly after an Egyptian man- Amun- as we tried to convince him to come with us.

"Amun, please!" Carlisle begged as I tiptoed lightly after him.

"I cannot help you, Carlisle." Amun said, stopping long enough to turn and face us.

"We're not asking you to fight." I whispered. "Just to look. Our kids are in danger."

His mates face softened a little bit at my begging, but Amun was not so easily persuaded.

"I wouldn't ask if it weren't urgent." Carlisle said, putting a hand on Amun's arm.

At that moment, the water in the fountain started shifting upwards, creating a barrier between the exit and us. Carlisle and Esme looked at me.

I shrugged, "It wasn't me."

I looked across the water to see a younger man, quite handsome looking in fact, his hands raised, looking over at us, "I'd like to hear about it. I never get to meet any of Amun's friends. He likes to keep me hidden."

There was a young woman next to him as well. Must be his mate.

"I can't imagine why." Carlisle answered and I honestly couldn't pick up if it was sarcasm or not.

The young man let the water drop and as it went to splash all over us, I took control of the water, making it shape into two large balls, resting above the palms of my hands before I let it settle back down into the fountain gently.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's impolite to splash guests?" I asked with a smirk.

He smirked back and we all moved to meet each other at the other end of the fountain.

The boy reached his hand out to me first, "Davina." I said.

"Benjamin." He said, "Nice to meet another elemental."

"Only water." I said, withdrawing my hand.

"Carlisle." Carlisle said as his hand was shaken next.

We sent them on their way, moving to Japan next.

There was a nomad there named Toshiro. He told Carlisle that he would debate coming to Forks and would think about it.

As Carlisle and Esme turned to leave I said, "You might think that you would be safer staying here. But Aro will know whether or not you even decided to come for a split second. And that split second. . ."

And with that I disappeared into the shadows, letting him think my words over.

And finally, we returned with the very last witness. Alistair. A nomad. I honestly couldn't stand him as I sat in the front seat, pitying Esme who was sitting beside him.

Bella and Edward came to greet us out front.

"How many came?" Carlisle asked in greeting of Edward.

"Eighteen." Edward said. "You have some good friends."

I guess Toshiro hadn't shown up. Pity.

"And Alice?" Esme asked.

Bella just shook her head, making Esme pull her into a tight hug. Marcel was leaning against the door frame of the house, waiting for Esme to come in.

"Where's Caroline, Nik, and Sammy?" I asked Bella.

"Upstairs with Seth and Leah." Edward said. "They like staying away from the vampires. It makes Leah's skin crawl."

I smirked, disappearing into the house. I winked at Benjamin as I passed by, smiling at Tia- his mate, as well. I could see everyone else that had shown up.

Two from the Amazon coven, all of the Egyptian coven, three Irish, Garrett, Mary, Peter, Charlotte, Randall, Alistair, Charles, and Makenna. They were all nomads.

I greeted all of them with a breezy, "Hello," and then made my way up the stairs to join my kids.

I could hear Carlisle and Esme rejoining the others downstairs.

Not only were Seth and Leah upstairs with my kids, but so were Embry and Bree, binge watching the Marvel movies.

"Hey kiddos." I said, making my kids turn around and leap into my arms.

"Mom!" Caroline said happily, "Guess what Niklaus can do?"

"I thought I said no powers?" I questioned.

"Yeah, but we didn't know Nik had powers until a few days ago." Caroline said with a grin.

I turned to look at Nik with a small smile. "So, what can you do?"

"I can mimic other vampire's abilities." Nik said solemnly.

"Really?" I asked, astonished.

"Yes. All I have to do is touch them, and then I have gained their ability." Nik said, touching my hand.

That would make him one of the most powerful vampires on the planet if he lived for a long time.

"But I wouldn't do anything bad if I was the most powerful vampire." Nik said easily.

"So you touched Edward I'm assuming?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Niklaus said, drifting back to the couch to pick up another book. "I think having several powers would make great use in the upcoming battle."

That made my blood turn cold. "Niklaus! You aren't even a year old! You aren't even six months old! You can't possibly think that you are going to be fighting in this battle! And even if you were a year old you wouldn't then!"

"But if I could just touch this Jane person everyone is so scared about I could turn her power on herself!" Niklaus protested.

"Absolutely not." I said coldly. "You are not fighting!"

There was a silence downstairs. I wondered if everyone had left or if they were just listening in.

"But mom!" Niklaus said.

"No!"

"Yes!" Caroline said with her puppy dog eyes. "No one can catch me. And I'll teleport Niklaus around so that he can take people out!"

"No!" I said furiously. "This is not a game! CARLISLE!"

Carlisle was at my side in an instant, looking warily between me and the kids. "They think they are going to fight." I spat angrily, even though it wasn't him I was angry with. I wasn't angry at them either. I was frustrated. I hated Irina.

Carlisle sighed, trying to be diplomatic. "You three will not be participating in the battle. Do you understand? It is to dangerous. Not only for yourselves, but for others. Especially you two Care and Samuel. Leah and Seth might get hurt trying to protect you if you are reckless. And someone else might get hurt trying to protect you Nik. You will sit the battle out and if you don't, you'll be grounded for a whole year afterwards."

Pretending that we were going to still be here after the battle.

"Besides." Carlisle said, sounding optimistic. "It's not even going to come to a battle, so there is no reason for you to get involved."

I felt myself relaxing, believing his words too.

It wasn't the last of their conversations, but as I kept them down at La Push with Seth and Leah- mostly to get Leah out of the house so that she didn't kill and vampires when they intended to go hunting- the conversations were rarely disputed.

Bella was also trying to learn how to fight. Edward absolutely refused to teach her. Emmett didn't really teach her- more beat her up in a sense.

There were a few others that attempted teaching her. Garrett in particular was an incredible teacher. In fact, he was incredible altogether. I absolutely loved his attitude and charisma. We got into rather heated debates about the Beatles. He was from the Revolutionary war era and therefore, deemed anything British as terrible.

"But the music didn't enslave you." I argued heatedly. "It's good music!"

"It's British." He said firmly.

"I swear I will force you to listen to it. Besides, British accents are hot."

Carlisle coughed discretely behind me. I ignored him.

"Well then you have poor taste in men." Garrett said, red eyes narrowing.

"I have excellent taste in men, thank you very much." I smirked, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder at Carlisle who buried his head deeper into his book.

Garrett stared at me a moment longer before carefully saying, "You know, I've been to every battle in history."

"Ah?" I questioned, trying to figure out where this was going.

"And though I wasn't at the bombing of Fort Knox, I was there for the aftermath." Garrett continued, gauging my reaction.

I set my jaw in a harsh manner, "That's what you want to talk about?"

"I believe you're innocent." Garrett pointed out.

"What a relief." I muttered.

"Carlisle would never have married you if you had been guilty." Garrett said with a shrug.

"Alright, can we not talk about this." Carlisle muttered from behind us.

I giggled, "I didn't realize you were a part of this conversation."

Carlisle glared half-heartedly at me. I pressed a kiss to his lips and then turned to Garrett. "The others are gathering outside."

"Ah, let's take the debate to the fresh air and get some more intelligent opinions on British shit."

"For the record, The Beatles are one of the best bands out there." I said, firmly believing this to be true. "What? You don't like Harry Potter either?"

"Never watched it nor have I read the books." Garrett said stubbornly.

"And now you need to be forgiven for your sins." I quipped.

Kate had just grabbed Bella's arm, electricity rushing through her hands. Bella didn't even react and Kate said, "oh, yeah, she's a shield all right. Should put her on her ass."

I saw that Carlisle and Esme had joined us as well.

"Or your voltage has been exaggerated." Garrett claimed from behind her. I snickered.

Kate turned, undeterred, holding her hand out, "Maybe it only works on the weak." She wiggled her fingers dauntingly and I smirked.

"What's with the hesitation Garrett?" I teased. "A Beatles song would've been over by now."

He glared at me, moving his hand out to touch Kate's.

"Garrett, I wouldn't." Carlisle warned.

"Don't ruin my fun." I said with another smirk, this time aimed at Carlisle as Garrett touched Kate's hand. There was a zap of electricity and Garrett fell in pain on his knees.

'KNEEEEEEL' Loki's voice rang through my head and Edward rolled his eyes. I wrinkled my nose at him.

"You are an amazing woman." Garrett said slowly, staring up at Kate. I grinned.

Suddenly, we could hear fast, vampiric speed like footsteps, approaching from another direction. That didn't make sense. All of the vampires were already here. We weren't expecting anyone else- unless Toshiro was going to show up.

"There's two of them." I said quickly.

And then I was off, sprinting towards them.

I could hear laughing and barking- sounds from Jacob training the new werewolves.

Then I heard a voice cry "Whoopa" and there was the sound of two sets of footsteps landing on the ground.

I came to a stop, nodding a hello to Jacob and the others.

"Well hello beautiful." The one with white hair said.

I raised an eyebrow as the others- Carlisle, Edward, Eleazar, Kate, and Tanya- came to a stop behind me. I saw that Jacob had three other wolves with him, all very gangly and uncoordinated. I hadn't met these yet.

"Vladimir, Stefan." Carlisle greeted them with just the slightest hint of annoyance. "You're a long way from home."

"What are they doing here?" I heard Kate ask from behind me.

"We heard that the Volturi are moving against you." The white haired one said. Was that Vladimir? Or Stefan? Would've been better if Vladimir had been called Damon. That would've been incredibly satisfying.

I heard Edward sigh somewhere around me.

"But that you would not stand alone."

"We didn't do what we were accused of." Carlisle said.

"We do not care what you did, Carlisle." The white haired one said in a bored tone. Oh my. . . his accent. . .

"We have been waiting a millennium for the Italian scum to be challenged." the darker haired one said.

I was going to go out on a limb and guess that the white haired one was Vladimir. I was going to throw a fit if the hot one had a terrible name like 'Stefan'.

"Mom." Edward hissed under his breath.

"Sorry." I hissed back.

"It's not our plan to fight the Volturi." Carlisle amended quickly.

"Shame." Hopefully Vladimir said and I smiled. I was really liking this Vampire. He tilted his head to probably Stefan. "Aro's witnesses will be so disappointed."

"They enjoy a good fight." Maybe Stefan said with a bit of a chuckle.

"Aro's witnesses?" Eleazar asked, stepping forward and Carlisle turned to look at him.

"Aww." Possibly Vladimir said with a slight click of his tongue. "Still hoping they'll listen?"

I exchanged a look with Carlisle, "What is he talking about?"

Carlisle just shook his head as we made our way back to the house. Once there, Eleazar gathered everyone to explain- first the two new vampires- and then this news about 'Aro's witnesses'.

"When Aro wants someone from a coven it's never long before evidence turns up proving that coven committed some crime." Eleazar started out saying.

"So he's done this before." Bella asked.

Everyone was there. Every coven member, ever nomad, even our kids and the few werewolves that hung around.

"It happens so rarely I never realized it was a pattern." Eleazar said.

"Apparently he always pardons one person whose thoughts he claims are repentant." Carlisle said from the couch.

"This person always has an ability." Eleazar says, his arms still crossed, still leaning against the windowsill. "And they're always given a place with the guard."

"This is all about Alice." Edward said.

"And that's why she ran." I whispered.

"Why does he need witnesses?" Emmett asked.

"To spread the word that justice has been served." Alistair spoke up from his corner. "After he slaughters an entire coven bigger than his own."

Amun and Kebi were the first to move, walking towards the door. "Benjamin, Tia, we're leaving." Amun announced.

"And where will you go?" Edward questioned. "What makes you think they'll be satisfied with Alice? What's to stop them from going after Benjamin next?"

Amun pointed a finger at me, "She can do the same!"

"Minus three elements." I retorted.

"Or Zafrina or Kate." Edward continued, ignoring the both of us. "Or anyone else with a gift, anyone they want. Their goal isn't punishment, it's power. It's acquisition. Carlisle might not ask you to fight, but I will. For the sake of my family, but also for yours. And for the way you want to live."

There was silence, everyone eyeing each other. Jacob was the first to stand to his feet, Seth and Leah joining him, "The packs will fight. We've never been afraid of vampires."

"We will fight." Tanya said, her, Carmen, and Kate rising to their feet from the other couch next.

"This won't be the first time I fought a king's rule." Garrett said and I smiled at him.

"We'll join you." Benjamin spoke, drawing Amun's attention to him.

"No."

"I will do the right thing, Amun." Benjamin said, giving me a slight nod. "You may do as you please."

"We will stand with you." Zafrini said.

"So will we." The Irish Coven said, standing up as well.

All the other nomads did not speak, nodding instead.

"That didn't take much." Vladimir (who was the white haired guy) muttered to Stefan.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Edward said.

"We'll see." Alistair said to Carlisle. I glared at him. He left the room first, leaving everyone to look after him.

Everyone started to prepare even more. If not to talk, then to fight.

Meanwhile, I kept my sights on Japan, specifically Toshiro. With Marcel's help, we got the military cameras of Japan up and running, taking in his whereabouts. He was making plans to come to Forks.

I hoped he got here sooner rather than later.

And a few days later, he did.

None to soon, as when he arrived, only hours later did I catch sights of the Volturi in the city. I showed him the cameras, several vampires looking over my shoulders. "I did warn you they would come for you." I said to him.

"And I am here now." Toshiro said with wide red eyes.

I nodded and Marcel shut the cameras down, wiping out the fact that we had even used them.

A few days later, I was sitting in the living room on Carlisle's lap as Edward talking strategy with him and Emm bear. Several others stayed in the room as well.

"Jane and Alec will try and take me out first because I can anticipate their moves." Edward said.

"To bad we don't all have your shield." Garrett said. Kate was standing next to him, rather close and I smiled.

"Doesn't help me fight though." Bella pointed out.

"No, but you could help the rest of us." Tanya said. "If you could project it."

"What do you mean?" Bella asked.

"I mean shield someone other than yourself." Tanya said and I wanted to add 'duh'.

"Is that possible?" Bella asked.

'Obviously if she's suggesting it' my brain thought and Edward glared at me. 'Sorry'.

"Gifts can be developed. Over time." Carlisle said softly, running his hand over my hair. He was wearing a blue sweatshirt. This was the first time that I had seen him wear something other than his doctor uniform or something formal. They were usually all so formal. But now it was like they had dropped the charade.

"At first, mine was just in my palms." Kate said. "Now I can radiate it all over my body."

"How do you do it?" Bella asked urgently. "Tell me." She grabbed Kate's hand.

"Ow." Kate said flatly.

They decided to move things outside. Carlisle and I stayed put for the time being. I snuggled into his chest. "Everything is going to be alright." I murmured. "Probably."

"Reassuring." Carlisle said. I knew he was trying to jest, but everything was to tense for that.

"You know what we need to do?" I asked quietly.

"No." Carlisle said.

I slid the hoodie off his shoulders. "First, we should go back to our house. Just some alone time for the two of us. You can take all of your anxiety and frustration out of me rather favorably. And then we'll have a nice long hot shower. And then, you're going to put on your fancy dress clothes, okay?"

"Sounds nice." Vladimir said from behind us rather suddenly, "Mind if I join?"

Carlisle glared at him over my shoulder.

I chuckled quietly, placing a kiss on Carlisle's forehead. "I might've let you if your name was Damon," I said with a smirk, "Shame."

Vladimir chuckled, disappearing again somewhere upstairs.

"So?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Carlisle scooped me up into his arms, racing away from the main house until we reached our little cottage.

"Oh darling, I'm going to ruin you."

For the first time in a long time, I saw Lord flicker behind Carlisle's eyes.

The minute we entered the bedroom, I completely submitted under him. Our clothes were on the floor in scraps and we were on the bed, cottons sheets fluffing upwards at the sudden two-person landing.

Carlisle's hands were firm and heavy on my hips as he pressed a very slow, teasing kiss to my pussy before diving in with his tongue and teeth.

I let out a pleasured moan at the feeling of his cool tongue and my hot core mixing together. It was almost ultimate pleasure and it was only heightened as Carlisle groaned, shooting vibrations up my lips to my clit.

"C-C-Carlisle." I whimpered. There was a soft coil in my stomach, but I needed more. Carlisle, much to my demise, pulled away, kissing down my thighs instead. I whimpered again.

He chuckled lowly under his breath, the lowness shooting tingly feelings to the core of my stomach. "Patience darling."

"I- I'm not very patient." I muttered.

"I know." He grinned. He maneuvered himself over my body, one arm wrapping around the base of my neck to pull me into a kiss, the other unexpectedly plunging two digits into my wetness.

I moaned into his mouth, lips parting. His tongue entered my mouth, clashing with mine for a few seconds before I submitted again at the overwhelming feeling of his fingers plunging into me over and over again, his palm hitting my clit every time he thrusted in.

The coil started to build up again, but once again, not enough. "Carlisle, please." I begged, throwing my head back.

"Mmm, eyes on me darling." Carlisle said, his lips trailing down my jaw to my neck, biting and sucking, leaving large purple bruises that started healing very slowly. Once he reached my breasts, he started to lick and kiss them. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling before biting and then moving to the other one to repeat his actions. Meanwhile, his fingers seemed to move even faster and his thumb started swirling patterns on my clit.

My eyes started to tear up as I tried to keep my eyes on him to the best of my ability. "Carlisle I'm gonna-"

"No you're not." Carlisle said simply with almost no emotion, flicking his tongue out over my right nipple, making me writhe and moan again. "Hold it."

I whimpered, tears falling down my face, body shaking, pussy clenching around his fingers. His pace increased even more, the speed of his thumb almost mind-blowing. My toes clenched tightly, trying to relieved some of the tension.

"Words darling." Carlisle said.

"Please Carlisle, please." I begged. "Please, I wanna-"

"Beg better than that baby." Carlisle said, his eyes slowly becoming black as he moved lower, adding his tongue to the mix of fingers at the start of my core.

I attempted to buck my hips but his other hand kept my waist down firmly. "Please Carlisle. Please. I wanna cum. Please?"

"Mm." Was all he said, with a slight dip of his head and I let go, white fuzzy shock washing through my body. I could feel his tongue working me through my orgasm, this thumb not letting up though his fingers had pulled out of me.

He pulled away from my pulsating core, moving over me. His once blond, now more strawberry blond, hair hung in his eyes, his pink tongue darting out to catch every trace of my arousal and I found myself getting wet just at the sight.

"Delicious as always sweetheart." He growled.

I whimpered as he flipped my body over before slamming himself into me without warning. Though it was unexpected and unusual of Carlisle, I had told him to take his frustration out on me.

And Fuck if I wasn't enjoying it.

I had honestly never felt better.

My fingers clutched at the bedsheets as he pounded into me, every stroke bringing such immense pleasure I didn't think it could get better. But it did. Slowly with every other thrust it got better and better, the coil in my stomach started to tighten and contract and tighten again. And I was so sure I was going to burst.

"CARLISLE!" I whimpered.

"Absolutely not." He growled in my ear. "Don't you dare."

And it was most definitely Lord in control.

"My Lord, please." I begged, a few more tears slipping down my cheeks. "Please! I-"

He forced his fingers into my open mouth, choking me rather effectively as he pressed his body down against my back tightly, hitting me at a new angle that made my eyes roll into the back of my head.

"Fuck Davina." Lord growled. "You're fucking mine."

I would've mumbled 'All yours' except that I couldn't. So I just did the best to nod my head and whine pathetically.

My arms were trembling, trying to hold myself up in the position that he wanted me in. One of his arms wrapped around me, holding me up himself. "I fuck you so good you can't even hold yourself up."

His fingers retracted from my mouth. He pulled me up a little straighter, his cock ramming into me at a new angle once again, hitting my cervix over and over as I whimpered, moaned, and fucking mewled.

I was putty in his arms, melting. "Fuck, Lord. Feels so good. I'm so close. Please let me cum. Please Lord."

He chuckled darkly, his thrusts slow, and I nearly cried in frustration. "Fuck darling. Missed this fucking pussy. Missed you wrapped around me like this."

Even in his darkest moments, Carlisle was almost never like this.

And I knew what had made him snap.

Vladimir.

I almost wanted to make a joke, tell him Vladimir would let me finish, but I held my tongue. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to get punished tonight.

Oh but teasing was so much fun. . .

And then my orgasm hit me like a truck, flowing down his hard cock which didn't stop its thrusts, wringing out my orgasm until it started feeling like overstimulation. His fingers reached down, finding my nub and I let out a scream of blinding pleasure as a second- third?- one crashed down on me.

Carlisle pulled out, flipped me over, and slammed back into me as my back was on the bed. "Gonna watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. No one else can make you feel this good. You're mine, yeah?"

"All yours Lord. All yours." I whimpered, my hands finding themselves in his fluffy hair. I was so glad that I was a vampire werewolf hybrid thing because if I was human, I would've broken under his amount of pleasure. As it was, I was trying very hard to keep it together.

He attacked my neck and upper chest with kisses and bites, as though determined not to leave an inch of my skin unmarked. I gripped his shoulders, nails dragging down the marble like back of my husband.

I knew if I could sweat, I would be and I was glad that there were a few human things I could not do.

The pleasure was starting to become even more immense and I cried out his name again.

"You gonna cum for me baby?" Lord said, his eyes the blackest I had ever seen them. "Gonna fucking cum all over my cock and prove that you're mine?"

I whimpered and whined at his words.

"Yes! Carlisle! Lord! Yes! Please! Please don't stop! I'm gonna cum! Carlisle please."

Lord moaned above me, a deep sound that ended me, another orgasm rushing through my body, heating it up, sending white flashes through my head.

"You look ravishing like this." Carlisle growled lowly, staring into my face with hunger and passion. "Fuck you're squeezing me so good. M'gonna cum darling."

I had no answers as I felt him release into me, his release long and large. Slowly, very slowly, his eyes started to return back to gold, thrusting his hips just a few more times before he pulled out of me slowly.

Our mixed release dripped from both his cock and my pussy onto the bed sheets but neither of us cared. I was to busy gauging Carlisle's reaction as he came back from Lord's control.

Carlisle blinked a few times and then leaned over me, a cautious expression on his face, "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I? I wasn't to rough or anything?"

I giggled, wrapping my arms around him, kissing him on the lips. "If flirting with a few guys is all it takes to get you to do that, I'll be flirting with every guy in sight."

Carlisle growled into my neck, "Or you could ask nicely and spare me the jealousy."

I giggled again, pressing soft kisses to his own neck, "Deal. But really, Carlisle, it was wonderful. I had no idea your mind could be so dirty."

Carlisle buried his head into my shoulder. I kissed the top of his head. "Ready to go back?"

"No." Carlisle said, sliding his hands to my hips, flipping me over so I was above him, and settled me back down on his cock, both of us hissing as the sensitivity of everything before it was healed. "How about another eight rounds?"

I smirked, "Ten."

Carlisle pulled my face down to meet his in a crushing kiss before pulling away a little and said, "Well then, you better get to riding me."

"Yes sir." I quipped and settled down to my task.

[caputvulpinum]

The discussion of connection to and disconnect from culture that's been going on in your asks is fascinating, and it's really nice to see other people who have been through things that look recognizable to me.

I grew up in the US. I'm part Kazakh, and growing up I knew a lot more about the French/Norman (I make the distinction because I grew up speaking something that is debated whether it is a dialect or a distinct but closely related language to French) part of my heritage than the Kazakh part, though more about either than the part that all I have to figure out is a known lie and some food based evidence. The Kazakh part is what's important to this story though.

Growing up, I was compared a lot to the ancestor who was fully Kazakh (in some people's mouths this was a compliment, in some it was very much not). But it meant that I had latched on to this part of my heritage as an important part of me from a young age. That being said, I didn't know a ton about it. Then when I was in middle school, the film Borat came out, and I shut down about talking about that part of my heritage hard because now it was being made a joke of everywhere. It took a lot of time to come back around to connecting to it in public.

As an adult, I've been able to have some big moments of connecting to that part of my heritage and it's something that I definitely talk about now. I worked a job where I had several Kazakh coworkers from Kazakhstan (here on an exchange) for a while, and making friends with them and having them be *excited* that I was part Kazakh and excited to tell me about things that I didn't know and share culture with me was a huge step in me feeling like I was really allowed to be a part of this part of my heritage. It was also a really interesting moment of other people recognizing the connection. A lot of my students (middle school age) at that job were convinced that one of my Kazakh coworkers and I were siblings because we did actually look quite a bit alike. I had to be like no, G and I aren't related that we know of it felt like every other week.

Then I started teaching in a school district with a lot of students who were Central Asian as well, and it was fascinating realizing that every single one of them *immediately* identified me as being mixed. I would on the regular have students I hadn't met come up to me and ask what part of Central Asia my family was from (or are you ___?) with no preamble or initial introduction. It was very interesting watching the response of some of my very white coworkers to this, who had clearly mentally categorized me as white but a little weird. Not necessarily good interesting.

I still don't know as much about that part of my background as I would like, I still have some mysteries in my background that I may never have full, proper answers to. But it's made me less afraid to try to find out and connect to have some of those really positive experiences around connecting to my Kazakh heritage as an adult.

.

[princesscolumbia]

Return to Recipient, Ch. 5 - Akane One Note

I just can't seem to stop writing for this story...

Summary:

Akane has been noticing things seem...different. She's not sure what's going on, but Ranma seems to be at the center of it. He's doing...schoolwork and making friends and... ...okay that's not exactly 'nefarious,' but after the frustrating 'training' on Sunday, she wants nothing better than to have a bitch-sesh with her friends... ...why do they seem so serious?

Notes:

No, nothing to do with Death Note (and don't expect a Death Note inspired chapter, either. DN's concept is boring to me and while it has it's fans nothing they've said or shown me has convinced me the show is at all within my sphere of interests). It's a reference to an old saying; "Johny One Note," meaning someone with only one predominant quality that defines their entire being. Quick note of thanks to jaaaaaasmin for spotting some misgendering of my own damn OC I did in Ch. 4. Which does remind me, I'm posting this straight form the AO3 'new chapter' box with no editor or pre-reader, so if you spot an obvious error like that, please let me know in the comments. 😊

Preview (as usual) below the cut:

The intervening classes between the rather unusual start of the day and lunch were all a blur of similar incidents. Ranma raising a hand to answer questions in class. Ranma getting a better grade than expected. Ranma taking serious notes and actually opening her textbooks.

His. Opening his textbooks.

Ukyo seemed to take the change in Ranma in stride, clearly just as in the dark about it as Akane but apparently more willing to simply roll with it. The aquatransexual and the okonomiyaki chef even got into an impromptu debate over some point in history about the Sengoku Period about whether Nobunaga would have succeeded in unifying Japan if he hadn't been betrayed by Mitsuhide, and it got heated enough the normally lenient history teacher even reigned them in a bit.

During the break between classes, Akane commented on it, "I didn't know you had that much of an interest in history, Ranma."

The redhead shrugged, "It's Warring States Period stuff. Lotta martial arts came out of that time period."

Hiroshi and Daisuke wandered over to socialize, "Man," complained Hiroshi, "Now I wish I'd paid more attention to the plot in Battle Girls: Time Paradox."

"Wouldn't've helped," smirked Daisuke, "The main character changes the course of events and Mitsuhide is convinced to not turn on Nobunaga. Lot of plot happens after that, which means you can't use it as an alternative to reading your textbook."

They laughed as Hiroshi groaned expressively.

"What's Battle Girls: Time Paradox?" asked Yuka, her and Sayuri leaning in from the row on the other side of Ukyo to join in.

Ranma snickered, "It's actually a really cool anime! Dai pointed out it's not exactly historically accurate, but a girl from modern times gets transported to an alternate timeline where it's only women, so all the historical figures are now really hot girls."

Daisuke and Hiroshi said in almost reverent, breathless unison, "Nobunaga..." Daisuke clarified why they were so in awe of the historical name as he held out his hands as though cupping a frankly gargantuan pair of breasts.

Ranma rolled her eyes, something Ukyo noticed. "Not a fan of girl-Nobunaga, Ranchan?" she asked.

"No, I am. She's a kick-ass martial artist that's destined to rule Japan in that timeline. I just don't care as much about how big her chest is 'cause if you made me as tall as her my rack'd be just as big. Aint that I don't appreciate the view," she shrugged, "But I know just how much of a challenge bein' a fighter is with a pair of meat sacks stuck to your chest is."

Hiroshi got on his knees in a pleading posture next to Ranma's desk, "Ranma-chan, I beg of you, please don't ruin the mystique of a glorious pair of breasts for me!"

Ranma rolled her eyes as Ukyo, Yuka, and Sayuri cackled and Daisuke just shook his head at his friend's antics. Before Akane could figure out what she was feeling about all this, the next teacher came in and everyone returned to their desks.

~~~

Read the rest on AO3

[theycallme-thejackal]

Part 1 | Part 2

It’s a sunny spring afternoon in New York, and Joel is enjoying it.

Midge has the kids, and Mei doesn’t have class this afternoon, which means they have the apartment to themselves. She’s just begun showing, and it’s different than when Midge was pregnant. He expected to know exactly how to handle this, but Mei is a hell of a lot needier than Midge was during pregnancy.

He reminds himself that she’s growing his child and swallows his annoyance with her sudden shifts in mood and her often disgusting cravings.

Today’s craving is mild, just inconvenient. There’s a little coffee shop in the West Village that has ridiculously delicious eclairs, so while Mei takes some time to study, Joel heads for Christopher Street.

He’s just ordered four (she wanted two, and he figures having an extra couple on hand couldn’t hurt) when he hears a familiar voice coming from the back corner table. “Abe?”

His ex-father-in-law looks up from where he’s sitting at a table with another man whose back is facing Joel. “Hello,” Abe greets, his tone a little more cheerful than Joel is used to hearing.

He moves to the table, and just as he’s about to ask who Abe’s friend is, he sees it’s Lenny Fucking Bruce and almost shits himself on the spot. “Joel Maisel,” he introduces, extending his hand for a shake. “I’m a big fan.”

Lenny Fucking Bruce gives him a crooked grin and shakes his hand in return. “Midge’s ex, right?”

Right. He knows Midge. “Yeah, uh...that’s me,” he says awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Lenny Fucking Bruce takes a drag from his cigarette. “So how do you two know each other?”

“We were arrested together,” Abe says jovially. “Miriam told me all about Lenny’s dedication to the fight for free speech, and when I saw him getting arrested for speaking his mind, I stepped in.”

“You shared a cell with Lenny Bruce?” Joel asks, dumbfounded.

Lenny Fucking Bruce interjects then, “It was a quiet night at the eighth, so we had our own cells. Adjacent but separate.”

“Rose came down and bailed me out, and then I convinced her to bail him out, and every now and then Lenny and I get together for coffee and spirited discussion,” Abe explains.

Joel’s head is spinning. Abe went to a Lenny Bruce show? Abe was arrested? Rose bailed them out? Abe is friends with Lenny Fucking Bruce?

“Hell of a story,” Joel says as he hears his order number called. “That’s me, so...nice to meet you, and Abe, I’ll see you tomorrow for the seder.”

“Yes, you will,” Abe confirms, and as Joel turns to go, he calls, “And Joel? If you are not painfully nice to Miriam’s new boyfriend, I will not hesitate to throw you out of my home. I am not tolerating any arguments this year. It’s going to be a nice Pesach, and my wife is not going to need a Seconal when it’s over.”

Joel sighs. “Understood,” he answers before getting his eclairs and heading back toward Chinatown.

---

The next night Joel arrives with Mei at the Weissman apartment. He’s nervous enough about bringing Mei to her first major Jewish holiday, but adding Midge’s new secret boyfriend to the mix is making it so much worse. He just hopes they can get through the night without discussing that afternoon...

Rose answers the door, and of the Weissmans, she’s the least hostile toward Joel, so that’s a relief. He helps Mei out of her coat before removing his own, and he can hear his mother in the kitchen. 

She laughs and then says, “Oh, Miriam, he’s a doll!”

So the boyfriend’s here. Fuck. Part of him was holding out hope that maybe the boyfriend would bail. Maybe they’d break up and could avoid this whole awkward encounter. But then he’s never been that lucky.

Rose leads Mei into the living room, chatting with her about her pregnancy, and Joel debates whether he should follow or go to the kitchen and get this whole thing over with.

He opts for the latter.

Rounding the corner, he enters the kitchen to discover the very last person he’d expected.

Lenny Fucking Bruce.

His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees the legendary comedian standing in front of the sink with bright yellow gloves on, washing dishes and talking with Midge and Ma. 

Midge spots him first - because of course she does - and the bright smile that was on her face only a moment ago falters. “Joel,” she greets.

“Joely!” Ma cries then, turning from Lenny Fucking Bruce. “Oh, where’s that beautiful girlfriend of yours? I want to see how much that stomach has popped!”

“Uh, living room,” Joel answers, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. She exits the kitchen quickly, going straight for the living room and leaving Joel in the kitchen with Midge and Lenny Fucking Bruce.

“You didn’t want to mention this to me yesterday?” He immediately snaps at the comic.

“Not particularly,” he answers with a shrug, continuing to wash whatever’s in the sink.

“Joel,” Midge growls. “So help me, if you are not nice this evening, I will tell everyone exactly what happened last week.”

“Oh, you mean when the two of you were fornicating in the middle of the day with the door open?” Joel hisses.

“Fornicating?” Lenny Fucking Bruce drawls, pulling a casserole dish out of the soapy water and setting it out to dry.

“Yes,” Midge answers. “How you broke into my home with a key you had no right to have in the first place. This can be a lovely seder. Or you can leave and get a hot dog from a street vendor. Your choice.” Next to her, Lenny Fucking Bruce pulls the gloves off and drapes them over the edge of the sink, and Joel thinks it may be the strangest thing he’s ever seen.

“So either I suffer through watching you two together all night or get food poisoning,” he spits. “Either way, I end up puking.”

Midge shrugs. “Hey, as long as you make it to the bathroom to do it, I don’t really care how sick you get.” Lenny Fucking Bruce covers his mouth with his fingers, and Joel can see a smirk that fills him with rage.

And he used to idolize this guy.

“Fine,” he grits out. “But I don’t like this,” he adds for good measure.

“No one cares, Joel,” Midge responds easily as she opens the oven door, pulling out the brisket. “You should check on Mei. Astrid’s probably getting too excited about the possibility of another convert.”

Joel huffs out a breath and heads for the living room.

Why’d it have to be Lenny Fucking Bruce?