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stirthewaters · 4 months

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Too Sharp to Touch pt.10

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: At a hangout with the gang at the lake, you receive an unexpected visitor after an extremely uncomfortable encounter.

Warnings: Language, brief descriptions of stripping? Creepy dude, mentions of alcohol, drugs, needles.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, wishing everyone the best holidays, I'll see all of you next year! <3

Enid Sinclair was almost positive that she was losing her mind.

Watching you and Wednesday converse was just a slow torture at this point; could you two not see the obvious connection right in front of you? It made the blonde want to shake some sense into one of you.

After the carving event from last week, Enid had returned to the dorm early to see Wednesday seated with her cello on the balcony, fingers poised over the strings, a breath of anticipation in the air as if about to start… but she didn’t. It was as if the Addams were frozen in thought, caught in her own mind. When the werewolf had called out to her roommate, questioning if she was alright, she received some half-assed response about preparing her sheet music.

But she knew otherwise.

You, of course, were trying to be subtle and failing. Miserably. You usually weren’t such a bad actor when it came to these things. And Enid had seen you with crushes before; she knew the signs, and you definitely had your eyes on the Addams.

So screw the whole “partners investigation”, she would not be able to physically or mentally handle it if she watched her roommate go over her file of evidence with you in the dining hall one more time. If you moved your hand just a tiny bit to the left you could have touched Wednesday's hand. Or if you scooted just slightly to the side you could have touched your thighs. And Enid had a sneaking suspicion that her roommate would allow your touch, not to mention the fact that she’d literally seen her do so before.

It was after you had your fighting lesson with Wednesday that Enid approached her roommate, already very much prepared to play her well-practiced role of matchmaker. The Addams was storing her gear in her locker neatly, placing her helmet on the top shelf as Enid approached, her neat bangs slightly pressed against her forehead with sweat.

“Howdy Wednesday, how was fighting practice?” Enid hummed as she skipped over, grinning.

“Average,” came the unsatisfying response. Enid had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As the goth started down the hall she quickly followed suit; how could such a short girl move so fast?

“That’s it? Just average?” She pressed gently, following her movements. “Come on, you gotta give me the details.” The blonde was met with Wednesday’s dark eyes flitting over to meet hers, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she responded easily, “What more is there to say? It was merely lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. Just an associate returning a favor.”

Associate. Enid knew her roommate to know that that wasn’t the only word she’d use to describe you. Huffing, she swerved around a passing student as she spoke, being as subtle as possible. “Did you have fun?”

Wednesday paused, eyes widening slightly in disbelief as she glanced at the blonde, nose scrunching in slight disgust. “Enid, I assure you I do not “have fun”. I merely fulfilled a responsibility. What pleasure would one find in that?” She picked up the pace slightly.

“I dunno Willa, you just aren’t complaining as much as you usually do about…anything.” Enid grinned softly, daring to give the raven a soft nudge to the shoulder with her own. Wednesday tensed but didn’t push her away, merely turning the corner towards their shared dorm, and heading for the stairs. “If in the case I have found satisfaction in my lessons with Y/N it’d be simply for the reason that it’s refreshing to teach someone who possesses actual skill at the sport rather than dumb luck.” Wednesday paused slightly, eyes narrowing as she shot Enid a look. “And if you tell her that I ever said such a thing then the both of you will end up with a silver bullet in the leg.” Unfazed, Enid gave a slight shrug, nodding in agreement to her roommate’s statement. At least now she was getting somewhere. “Are you planning on working with Y/N today?”

“If we progress further in our case then I’d assume so, but nothing has been planned for today. It’s rather convenient, seeing as my writing hour is approaching.” As Enid made the climb after her up the narrow staircase, she had to think fast. She couldn’t give up now, not after getting this far. Looking around quickly she gave a soft curse, wishing silently that Thing could be here when she actually needed him. Pulling out her phone she shot you quick text before stuffing her phone back into her pocket, casually leaning against the doorframe of the dorm as Wednesday entered her closet to change.

“Well, I hope you enjoy yourself, I’ll be out of your hair soon anyways, I’m off with Y/N and the gang to go to the lake.” There was a silence that followed from the closet, the only sound present being the faint ruffling of clothing as Enid’s eyes wandered over the wooden doorframe, making sure not to accidentally peek. She had the Addams now, she knew it. It was a success to herself knowing that if she managed to get Wednesday to abandon her writing hour for you she’d be sure of her suspicions. After a moment the raven reappeared, dressed comfortably in her white and black striped shirt with her black fleece hoodie pulled over, adjusting her sleeves as she spoke, eyebrows furrowed just slightly.

“I wasn’t aware Y/N’s schedule had changed.”

“Yeah, it was like a recent thing, Bianca shot the group chat a text and apparently everyone was free so it was pretty lucky. Even Kent is coming.”

“And Marcelo?” “What does Marcelo have to do with anything?” Enid paused, interest piqued as she glanced at the raven, who was now seated at her desk, fingers poised at her typewriter as if ready to type, though she hadn’t moved yet, eyes focused on the keys as she muttered,

“No particular reason; morbid curiosity spurs me to refer to the fact that Marcelo has certain interests in Y/N.”

“Yeah, but -” Enid moved further into the room, raising an eyebrow. If anything, you hated Marcelo, and she knew it well. God, could she go on about the nights that you’d spent ranting about the dumbass. Yeah, Marcelo. “- he’s mostly just tagging along because Kent’s gonna be there. He’s kind of hard to exclude.” She paused, frowning softly before glancing at the Addams, who was now typing away, precisioned fingers flying across the keyboard. “Do you expect us to just kick him out?”

“Out of pure sadism, I might go so far as to say yes,” Wednesday muttered under her breath, easily detectable to Enid’s ears as her fingers pounded harder against the keyboard.

“Well, we’re not, unfortunately.” Enid paused, biting her lip slightly as her eyes darted around the room, mind racing to find a solution. Maybe this was going to be harder than she thought. Taking a quick inhale, she rapidly decided that she’d just have to hope for the best. “Well, I hope you enjoy your night, I’m gonna head out.” The blonde shouldered her bag that was already ready on her bed, walked out of the dorm, and closed the door behind her.

God, she hoped this would work.

The lake was calm. Silent. You liked it.

The group was typically rowdy, breaking through the calm quiet of the water, but you didn’t mind that either. The sky was already darkening, the sound of a few crickets filling the air as everyone set up. A calm breeze sent the trees gently ruffling, the waters of the lake rippling. It was almost hard to imagine the exact same body of water being filled with students and boats, bustling with energy.

“Finish daydreaming and help me blow up the float, furball.” You caught an elbow in the side from Bianca, and you let out a soft wince, rolling your eyes as you held out your hand for said float, sitting on the dock beside the siren to begin filling the large float, preparing the pump, and connecting the attachments. “We’re lucky if Kent doesn’t pop one like last time.” “For your information, it was a bet, which I totally won,” Kent spoke up from the hill, scowling slightly as he worked at unbuttoning his shirt, and throwing it at Bianca. “At least I follow through on bets, unlike someone-”

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes as you groaned, starting to pump air into the float. “You guys really expected me to actually hunt down a squirrel?” “You’re the one that suggested it in the first place,” Kent shrugged, at the exact same time that Yoko shouted from the pathway - “You’re a werewolf, dumbass! Wolves hunt things!”

“Well it wasn’t even relatively close to a full moon so it was automatically discredited,” you grumbled to yourself, huffing as you put more pressure on the pump handle. Yoko stepped to drop her bag on the dock, and the clinking of bottles immediately made you perk up, instantly recognizing the sound. “You brought booze?”

“Don’t tell me you expected less,” Yoko scoffed, a small grin playing on her face that perfectly showed off her fangs that glinted slightly in the evening light. “Isn’t that my role here?”

"Hell yes, Tanaka," Bianca grinned from her position, working at the other float as she spoke.

"The good stuff?" You perked slightly, curious, as you pulled at the bag, trying to get a peek before Enid slapped your hands away.

“You don't get any,” Enid huffed, folding her arms as she shot you a look, raising an eyebrow whilst dumping her towel onto the dock. “We’re not supposed to have it in the first place and I’m sure you all remember from the last time that she can’t handle it.”

"And yes, it's the good stuff," Yoko grinned slightly, emphasizing her words. "Don't expect anything less."

“Fuck you,” you stuck out your tongue at the blonde, who shot one right back. “You were tipsy as hell, don’t get me started.” Enid rolled her eyes, sitting on the wood as she huffed in response, “Still not as bad as you. You’re lucky Weems didn’t catch you or you’d’ve had even more community service.” After a moment she cocked her head, in an almost dog-like fashion. “Aren’t you gonna get changed though?”

“Miss I’m-In-Charge told me to blow up this shit,” you roll your eyes, ignoring the look Bianca shoots you. “If you don't mind taking over then I can get it done.”

Enid sighed and moved you out of the way, taking the pump in her own hands as she gestured you to go. “Just don’t get run over.”

You paused, scanning the undergrowth around the lake for a good spot, eyes narrowing as you silently thanked the stars that you had a decent vision in the dark. “give me like two minutes.” You scooped up your change of clothing, kicking off your shoes as you stepped onto the path, dodging a chunk of mud hurled from Ajax at Kent.

It took you a bit to get deep enough into the undergrowth that you were sure you were out of view, not that you thought anyone would go looking in the dark for you. Stepping behind a clump of bushes you pulled at your top, placing it on a branch to hang as you tugged at the straps of your tank top. It was almost eerily quiet now that you were far off from the group; the sounds of laughter and talking were audible, yes, but only faintly, one that could be easily tuned out if you didn’t focus on it.

A faint stick cracking brought you out of your thoughts as you paused, eyebrows furrowing as you straightened, eyes whipping around the foliage in search of the source. Nothing. Odd. You shrugged it off; it must be a rabbit or something like that.

“Y/N?” Jumping clear out of your skin, you let out a hiss of surprise as you raced to cover yourself, pulling a towel around your upper half as you turned on your heel, eyes wide and senses up, to see Marcelo standing a couple feet away, partially hidden by low hanging branches.

“Marcelo, what the actual fuck?” You hissed, heart pounding as you took a small step back, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable with just the towel between you and him. He was giving you that stupid grin, the one you wished to God you could smack off of his face.

“Wow, did not think I’d walk in on some Y/L/N ass tonight-” he took a step forwards, almost matching your step back as he spoke as his grin grew slightly. “You look good.”

“What the hell are you doing here? The group is all the way over there -” You pointed with your arm, a frown on your face as you spoke. “No offense but it’s making you look like a creep right now that you were hiding in the bushes of all places watching me strip.” “Oh come off it, don’t be sensitive,” the werewolf rolled his eyes with a scoff, gesturing to the towel over his shoulder as he took another step forward. “I just got here, I heard movement on the bank and thought it was the group.”

“In the bushes?” You frown scornfully, adjusting the towel tighter around your chest as you bump against the trunk behind you, eyebrows narrowing as you feel your heart pick up the pace. “Don’t be an idiot, just go.”

“What a warm welcome,” he muttered, eyes lingering slightly on your towel. “You don’t need to rush me away like that. Don’t tell me you don’t wanna see me?” “I never said that.” You pause, lying right through your teeth as you cast a glance through the undergrowth, almost praying that Enid, Yoko, or someone would show up. “If you’d ever heard of privacy maybe you’d understand.” “Come on, Y/N -” Marcelo took a step forward, warm hand landing on your wrist. You frowned, eyes narrowing as you tried to shake it off, your grip on the towel loosening as you did so. Quickly reacting, you tried to move away to fix it but instead, the werewolf reached for it, "I can help with that-” Just as you were about to smack the shit out of him, he froze in place, eyes glazing over slightly as he took a small step back.

“Marcelo, what the fuck-” you stepped forward, eyes widening as right before you he crumpled, body collapsing onto the dirt as he passed out cold. You quickly scrambled to throw on your top, before kneeling and checking his pulse. Alive, yes. Conscious, obviously not, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell was happening until you spotted Thing, beside his left ankle, which now had a needle jammed into it.

“Thing?” Your eyes widened in shock, taking a moment to process before you stuttered. “W-what the hell did you do? He’s not gonna die, is he?”

“Unfortunately not.” A voice to your left scared the shit out of you for the second time that night as you jumped, bumping into the branch beside you. “Shit! What the- the-”

Your words fell away as you narrowed your eyes, recognizing Wednesday’s dark form among the trees, arms folded over her chest with a barely concealed look of disgust at the unconscious Marcelo, eyes dark. It took you a couple seconds to catch your breath again as you immediately felt your heartbeat pick right back up again, at a loss for words.

“It was a simple dose of thiopental. He’ll most likely experience a few side effects once it wears off, but fortunately, you won’t have to suffer through that again.” The Addams stepped forward, nudging his ankle as she leaned down, removing the needle and placing it neatly in her bag. “It was pathetic to watch, being honest.”

“B-but why- how-” you fought to understand, placing a finger on your temple as you glanced at her, somehow surprised by her nonchalance. “You knew I was here?”

“I was sending Thing to drop off the towel Enid had left in the dorm when he informed me of your situation. I accompanied him back with the sedatives.” Wednesday’s dark eyes met yours evenly, tone now laced with faint disdain. “Believe me when I say I’d be more than glad to do it again. You weren’t the only one bothered by him.”

“Yeah, he’s an ass.” You mumbled breathlessly, eyes dropping to Marcelo once more as you softly inhaled, fighting down a shudder. As if sensing your discomfort, Wednesday took a step backward, glancing out over the lake as she muttered, “This will stay between us three, understood? If he asks questions, let me know.” You gave a little nod, recovering your breath as you found the words you needed, meeting her gaze once more as you felt your pulse quicken once more. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it.” Wednesday turned her head slightly, breaking eye contact as she gazed across the lake through the branches. “I’ll have to remind you in the future to carry around the correct poisons.” She bent down, grabbing Marcelo’s wrists as Thing moved to support his waist, the two of them positioned to haul him away.

“Do you need help?” You took a step forward, already reaching for one of the werewolf’s ankles to be of assistance, but Wednesday shook her head, the faintest sadistic gleam in her eye that honestly, at this point you were used to. “That won’t be necessary. Me and Thing have performed this task several times before; I’m looking forward to this.” Nodding, you watched as the two of them easily slid the unconscious boy up the hill, quickly disappearing into the dark as you took a moment to process, slowly sliding down to a squat as the welcoming and comforting scent of dirt and undergrowth filled your senses, your adrenaline slowly dying as you let out a long sigh, processing as you grounded yourself, the only sound present in your senses now the faint chatter in the distance and the trees swaying gently.

“Y/N? Where the hell are you?” Broken out of your thoughts, you glanced out over the shore, spotting Enid, hand shielding her eyes as she approached. “Are you good? It’s been a lot longer than two minutes-” “I’m fine, E,” you stood, brushing off your arms as you threw your towel and clothes over your shoulder, stepping out of your hiding spot as you approached, moving her hand out of her face. “Took longer than I thought. I’m all good.”

Marcelo woke up that night tied to a chair.

Taglist:

@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae

#wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #jenna ortega #wednsday addams #tstt #werewolf reader #wednesday addams x werewolf reader #enid sinclair #yoko tanaka #bianca barclay #the addams family

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lollipopliccer · 4 months

Text

𝔄 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 ❦

❦ warning lollipop chaos ahead! proceed with caution… ❦ light angst , happy ending , ex getō suguru , tattoo artist suguru , set in a tattoo parlour , soft dom geto , praise , cunnilingus , masochism , light sadism & impact play , ig semi public and i guessss office sex

the descriptions of this tattoo experience is not accurate, i dunno shit abt tattoos (even tho i rlly wanna get one). so don't bite my fucking dick off with the technicalities! lets just b happy that i acc posted this hehehe

word count ; 5k ish

black fem reader (still all can read)

lollipopliccer’s love letter ❦ … hiiiii lollipops 🪷 i just wanted to say thank u sm for the love on my debut fic i rlly appreciated it. i’m rlly excited for y’all to read this new one EEEEE. this one was also long as helllll (¬_¬), shit has just been ridiculous in my life rn so sorry abt the delay, i don’t even know y it took me this long just to write 5k ugh anywayyy. i’m excited, cus i always eat up geto tattoo artist head-cannons, mmmm they’re just so mm mm mm tasty. anyway this is my first time writing some angst, i usually stay clear away from any typa angst, i’ve already got enough of that in my life plss haahaa, i don’t even know what possessed me to dip my toe in it, but don’t worry it’s very light. okayy enough of the babble, pls enjoy my fic, and i’d appreciate all ur interaction, reposts, comments, feedback blah blah… mwah mwah mwah ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

'i'm so excitteedddd' you squeal, as your best friend nobara parks her car, beside the tattoo parlor. you both had been planning your tattoos together for a few weeks now settling on the most beautiful matching heart design on both your bikini lines, whilst individually having unique patterns going through the (tatted) hearts.

"you better not fucking scream when you're actually under the gun" nobara chastises laughing.

"fuck you bitch, you already know i'm bad like that, not even gonna flinch" you taunt, as you both get out of her car.

you decided on wearing a fitted, short black dress, that accentuated your curves and hips but would also be easily manoeuvrable for your tattoo placement. shoko Ieiri your tattoo artist made sure you were comfortable with your design and placement.

underneath your dress, you wore bikini bottoms with side ties, for the same reasons as the dress - paired with some white trainers with pink embellishments. you complete your outfit with jewellery. including your pandora bracelet with silver and pink charms, a necklace, and stud earrings.

you both walk into the parlour, it's decorated all over its dark blue walls with a myriad of paintings, sketches, and different artworks. nobara leads you to the front desk as she had booked the appointment. you're greeted by a raven-haired girl with a short pixie cut.

"hey, are you guys here for your appointment?" she asks, as you notice her name tag- 'maki', and her tattoos and scars peeking through her top.

"yeah, um we had an appointment for 6:30 pm" nobara states, you can see her start to blush at maki.

"cool, yeah i'll check that out for you, umm..." maki responds

nobara so obviously interested in maki, decides to flirt, while you absent-mindedly look at the artwork placed across the shop. it's truly captivating, the deep dark hues and colours, so beautifully drawn, depicting what you could only describe as demons. they were more abstract than the stereotypical depiction, but these works somehow gave more meaning and conveyed more torment.

"so how long have you been working here, maki right?" nobara asks

"yeah, i started some months ago."

"that's cool, i love your tats”

“thank you, i um did some of em myself, nobara right?” maki responds getting nobara’s name from the booked appointment slot

“yeah…” nobara smiles shyly

“…are those your sketches up there? nobara asks, pointing to one of the sketches you've been staring at, there's a familiarity to the work displayed. but you can't put your finger on it.

"no um that's actually from another tattoo artist's, geto." maki answers.

you almost freeze, just from the mention of his name "who?!"

"uhh geto suguru, he owns the place, his artwork is all over these walls" maki responds to you.

a shiver runs up your spine "oh..."

"on that note, i'm sorry for the inconvenience girls, but shoko, your tattooist she had to take our other colleague gojo to the hospital- broke his arm doing some dumb shit. so she won't be able to actually give you your tattoo’s today, however we're able to swap her in for geto suguru, he just got back into town and is just as talented"

"shit" nobara turns to you, already knowing the issue from just his name alone, "yn i had no idea omg, i should've checked better, we can leave"

"nah there'll be no need for that, right yn?" you hear his voice. his silky deep voice, it always had that raspy quality that made your knees go weak. another shiver runs down your spine. you whip around.

"why tf are you here?" you sneer.

"uhh i work here…" he answers deadpan.

you turn back around, after giving him a lethal sneer, "hey um maki is there any other artist today?"

"no, i'm sorry, everyone else is booked." she apologises

"and anyway, it'll be a hassle for you guys if you were to reschedule," geto states

you simply stare at nobara refusing to even glance at him.

"come on yn" geto insists gently, leaning closer to you. your back to him. your name on his lips has you reeling, how softly he calls to you, like no other.

nobara waits for what you want to do, and if you're comfortable being tattooed by your ex in such an intimate area?

"let's get this done", you tell nobara, you turn around to face geto who has that enticing smirk.

as you follow him to his workspace, nobara hangs back reassured that you're comfortable being with your ex. you get the chance to truly take him in since last you saw him. his tattoo’s have grown, as he's painted a whole-sleeved dragon across his left arm, slithering out of his tight-fitted black t. your eyes roam all over his body, soaking in his confident stride, his height, taller than you remember. the way he ties part of his black, luscious hair in the bun is similar but different from the way you remember, leaving the rest of his hair to hang past his shoulders. but his right-hand tattoo is as you remember. a rose’s stem covered in thorns, wrapped around his hand, you can't help but still have your heart swell from that.

as he opens the door for you, you strut past him in silence, he of course responds with an eye roll to your petulance. his workspace is decorated with more of his works, some unfinished, yet so mesmerising you can't look away from them, they seem to depict a greater depth, too intimate for the outer world. the deep hues of dark royal blues, blacks, and green meld together, casting an otherworldly aura. the demons here have this eerie elegance, their features subtly tormenting, evoking such sorrows.

"if you're not comfortable with me tattooing you, we don't have to, i will let you reschedule free of charge-" "i know." you state, without hesitation. and with that, the silence returns as geto smiles slightly, he then grabs his equipment, lining them up, his needle gun, ink, etc.

"why did you insist on me not rescheduling then?" you taunt

"i wouldn't say i instisted" geto defends.

"mmm really? cus i'd even say you implored" you smirk. seeing you smile… he wonders how he could’ve forgotten how magnetic it is.

"i just wanted to see you…”

a pause.

"you broke up with me." you interrupt coldly, both of you are reminded of your separation...

… you begged him to stay. the pain you felt completely consumed you, leaving you empty…

geto holds your gaze. your eyes filled with anger, but also longing. you try to conceal your feelings by turning around.

"yn..." he calls out to you, but you ignore him, seemingly too entranced by a random splotch on the wall, while trying to hold it all in "...yn look at me", geto approached.

you turned around slowly. almost stubbornly, you made sure to look him in his eyes, those deep dark orbs that never failed to suck you into a world of intensity and sensitivity. you both hold each other's gaze, so much said between each other, longing, and regret.

"i am sorry yn, i-" in his attempt to express his apology, you immediately stride past to sit on the tattoo bed, too overwhelmed.

"-right so like from a scale of 1-10, 10 being i'm gonna need to b fucking sedated, how painful is this tat going to be" you ramble, trying to divert the conversation.

you ignore his sigh, as he walks to his chair. he then chooses to focus on preparing his equipment, sterilising them, all that shit. "the tattoo shouldn't be that painful, especially as you requested numbing cream."

"cool" you respond curtly, you follow his actions on focusing on the task at hand, and lift up the side of your dress, to expose the side you were getting tatted on.

when geto looks back he sees your pink bikini bottoms with string ties, he looks away trying to keep his composure "just want you to give me an idea where you want your heart and thorns”.

you clear your throat a little, to try and calm your nerves, “um just around here, i trust your um artistic inclinations. have some freedom with it, i know its kinda simple but i um- the thorns i want them to wrap around, please.”

“of course, yn”

geto trying his best to make this experience as comfortable as possible begins applying the numbing cream. he looks you in your eyes, to see if there were any remaining apprehensions, finding none, the gun comes to life.

“you tell me how you’re feeling throughout this process, if anything feels off with what i am doing, you tell me, do you understand?” geto instructs, his firmness, and apprehension to cause you any unnecessary harm stirs things in you. things you’ve tried repressing, tried to move on from, evidently unsuccessfully.

you nod in response adding a “yes”. and so begins the process, as geto brings needle to skin, his art begins to mark you. the initial twitch of pain you feel is subdued by the numbing cream generously applied. although you can’t help the slight yelp that falls from your lips, which geto catches onto and immediately soothes “shhh it’s okay, the cream will kick in soon won’t feel a thing hun”. his words soothe you, as they always used to, leading you to simply whimper in slight pain. you can’t help but look at him, at how he’s completely focused on your brown skin, that he marks by his hands.

…

as the hours go on, you slowly see geto’s work, his art come together, the red hues of the heart mixing together with slight pinks but also contrasted shades of black, to provide it with such depth, teasing the later depictions of darkness the thorns will add. you are in complete awe of this man, of his work, as you watch him work completely zoned in, despite any dull pain mumbling under the numbing cream.

as your focus lays on him- memories, old feelings of pain, sadness, and confusion begin to bubble again, and you blurt…

“why did you leave?”

a pause…

followed by silence… your demand for answers hanging over you both, while he still remains focused on your tattoo, you remain waiting. you know he heard you.

“i found myself in darkness again, yn, but that time it was even more challenging.. my hallucinations, my night terrors all came back, i was in it deep…” he pauses trying to find his words, and you give him that space “… i knew you were there for me, holding me when i woke up screaming. you stood by me…” he paused

“…however i couldn’t let you do that, i couldn’t bring you there with me. not when i couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world. i needed to find myself again, my purpose. and i know the way i left you, was cold, and confusing, and i am truly sorry, but i had to do it for myself.” as you listen attentively, watching him intently, he slowly gazes at you, pausing his work. your eyes meet with such intensity, such ache, and you start welling up, finally understanding everything, no longer being left with nothing but a cold departure.

“i’m sorry- m’so- ‘m so so sorry geto” tears cascade down your face, geto is quick to wipe them away, softly holding your precious face.

“sshh, ssh baby, don’t be silly mmm, you did nothing wrong, and i’ve been doing better. so much better. finding new channels to express how i feel, what i see.” referring to the intricate art that decorated his walls.

you sniffle, you feel so guilty and ashamed, for the resentment you harboured against him when he was out there trying to fight his way out of such a dark mental space. “they’re beautiful.” you sniffle

“not a day goes by that i don’t think about you, that i don’t regret the way i left. i would’ve come back but i thought you would move on...”

“i didn’t.” you respond

“neither did i.”

with your admissions to one another, a comforting silence fell, filling the room with sweet serenity, and you both found yourselves tethered together once again, holding each other’s gaze, filled with yearning.

you were the first to break, averting your gaze, feeling like it was the first time meeting, how your butterflies bloomed and fluttered, riddled with carnal hunger for him. the paradox of your feelings for him always consumed you, almost driving you mad, only geto could set you so ablaze.

the needle resumed its course, mechanically piercing your skin. both your attentions returned to their original positions.

the only difference being the shift in the atmosphere, the reignition of your feelings for one another, but this time at a tenfold from the time spent apart, wanting no other.

“ahh it’s getting a little sore geto” you whine in slight pain

“sorry yn, we’re moving onto the thorns now, we’ll soon be done, why don’t you take a look at it for me, tell if you don’t like anything?”

as he wipes over the completed heart, filled with colours and dimensions, so deep and beautiful, truly depicting more than you could imagine, it’s medium-sized maintaining a slight cuteness to the art, but still depicts chaos within, which geto clearly understood about you, and so was best to depict it.

“i love it.” you squeal, looking into his eyes, as he looks for reassurance from you. his vibrant smile brightens his face, you hadn’t seen it in so long, and it warmed you.

“good, we’re going to move to the thorns, wrapped down your thigh, why don’t you tell me about your choice of thrones?” geto asked so he could understand your thought process behind the tattoo.

you were apprehensive to reveal your thorns, largely from a place of embarrassment. you didn’t want to show how much he had affected you, and still did, but you did not want to lie to him especially after, he revealed himself so intimately to you.

the thorns, um, i got them from you…” geto halts at this, looking at you in slight confusion “they stemmed from me just wanting to have a piece of you still with me, something that i remembered, that reminded me of you… the thorns, the ones you have on your rose.” in explaining, you feel bold enough to touch the inked rose on his right hand, grazing your fingers over the thorns

suguru can hardly conceal his feelings. “i missed you.” geto states. his dark, sleek eyes told you how he burned for you.

“i missed you too suguru.” you whisper. your feelings flood your body, making you tingly- his intensity holds you in place. you’re both focussed on one another, suguru begins to smile feeling the warmth of your fingers touching him so delicately.

"lets continue your tattoo, i don't wanna fuck it up" suguru states, slowly bringing his hand away from your touch, even though he wanted nothing more than to let you touch him all over. to feel how those pretty acrylics, decorated in bows and charms along his skin, but he didn't want to mess this up, he wanted to tattoo you perfectly.

"okay" you respond, almost dissapointedly. wanting to feel him under your fingertips. you'd settle for now to feel his hands on your thighs, holding them to get his angles right, you were beginning to realise that you wanted more than just to stroke his hand. you want him to mark you all over, with more than just his needle gun.

"you've gotta try and stay still for me yn, i know it hurts, but it'll be over soon" suguru soothed, as his eyes narrowed around the curves of your thighs, the way they flexed and trembled slightly as you whimpered due to the numbed pain.

"okay... can i hold onto you?" you ask. he responds with a nod. you grip his arm, wanting to feel tethered- you don't remember him being so well-built, his biceps feel thick and powerful, almost hard to the touch as he flexes per his movements.

...

you're now a few hours into the tattoo, suguru’s taking his time, to add such beautiful details. the tension between the two of you is palpable, but the air is no longer filled with animosity, but rather intimacy. knowing you though, and how impatient you are suguru already sees it coming when you-

"sug i'm fucking borreeddd" the numbing cream obviously doing its job to reduce the pain to something dismissible, suguru chuckles finding your impatience so familial and adorable.

"it's barely been two hours" suguru forever sassy, remarks, rolling his eyes at ur moodiness. "now stay still, you're messin up my work." suguru states, you huff and bite your tongue, as you don’t want to fuck up his flow, you already know he works best when he’s zoned-in on a task.

you decide to catch up with him, your curiosity building, you've both missed so much from each other's lives. "i like your parlour. i would've bet money you'd turn your art into tattoos, you were too talented to let your art hide in your sketches"

suguru smiles again, "yeah? it was either this or burning down the town", he jokes and makes you both laugh, due to the absurdity. however, you both knew, there was some truth to it, which honestly added to your laughs

"right, of course committing arson, and potential mass murder is an obvious alternative." you sarcastically quip

"what you don't agree, i know you're not much better at keeping your chaos in check," he teases, his eyes locking onto yours.

you feel yourself flush, feeling seen- so you try staying on track to your original plan to catch up with him, "when did you open this place?"

"well actually gojo was the one who invested in my passion"

"that's so sweet"

"yeah, he's a fucking asshole, always all up in my business," he remarks, with a small smile, feigning annoyance. you can feel the fondness behind his words.

you notice how suguru smiles, how he teases, just like he used to, & still has that assertive and confident allure to him, that natural dominance and assuredness in himself, that he almost lost. your conversation with one another continued, bantering off one another. you make each other laugh and snicker and your heart can’t help but swell.

...

your feelings for him set aflame once again. this time with a ferocity you could barely contain. only heightened by the dull pain that he controlled with his needle, marking you so prettily. the assured control suguru had over your body was so seductive, it made places other than your tatted thigh, start to ache, start to ache so badly.

finally, geto lays the finishing touches on your tattoo, clearing up the intricate lines, adding shadings and highlights, and then wiping over the tattoo.

"okay, it's done. you can go check it in the mirror, let me know if you hate it." geto keeping his gaze low somewhat anxious to see your reaction.

as you approach the full-body mirror attached to the opposite wall, you couldn't possibly understand his apprehension because when you lay eyes on your tattoo, you are completely awestruck. you fall completely in love with his markings, the way the thorns pierce through the heart and sliver down your left hip, and thigh, wrapping them gorgeously.

you are lost for words, your lips part with a gasp, and when you bring your eyes up onto suguru through the mirror, you see how he watches you. following from your thighs decorated in his work, marking your body so seductively. then he focuses on how your dress is bunched up on those hips, those hips he’s held, and soothed over for hours today, but his mind wanders... reminiscing about all those times he used to handle and caress all over your plump thighs. how he would mould your body any way he pleased.

he watched as you held the undone ties of your pretty bikini bottoms, it made him salivate. his eyes cast over your dress- the way it hugged your body so exquisitely, propping up your boobs so prettily. the way your butt peaks out of the bunched-up dress, and how your breathing picked up, flustered from his heated gaze.

"i love it sug." you whisper softly.

"yeah?" he smirks. growing bolder, he walks up to you, and you don’t dare avert your eyes from his, through the mirror. you love the way his top hugs his thick muscular shoulders. his broad upper back being so beautifully emphasised, and how his sculpted chest has his nipple piercings teasing through his top. you salivate at his slim waist. ugh he's such a slut. you love the way his body is perfectly decorated in his art, marking his skin; and adorning his arms, and his neck, which is wrapped with a chain, you remember gifting him.

when he reaches you, he has to crouch down, flexing his strong thighs and calves hidden under his baggy bottoms, but you still have to look up at him to maintain eye contact, which he demands with his own. suguru holds the bottom of your thigh just under where the tattoo ends.

"how does it feel?" he whispers into your ear, his sharp gaze still honed on you

you whimper faintly because of the dull sting and ache from the tat

"a little sore sug, but it feels good, i really like it." you say softly while you lean into him, wanting to be wrapped in his body, his warmth.

he smiles at your admission "that's good yn, i'm going to wrap it up now, don't want it getting infected." you love the way he says your name, the way he purrs, your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly.

as he wraps the tattoo you wince, he immediately soothes you, "i've got you baby, it's okay." your body relaxes in response. your eyes never leave each other. as the tension shifts you feel enthralled, wanting him to touch you all over.

"yn, do you want me to play with you?" suguru asks, having that condescending tone that never failed to make you falter. you almost shy away, but he holds your face, bringing his hand up under your chin, his fingers grip your cheeks slightly, making you look directly at him “i want to play with you, i want to help you forgive me baby...” he whispers into your ear. your breath becoming more uneven and flustered from his proximity, that you can practically taste his aroma, how he mixes his scents of minty, smoky notes and cinnamon, woody undertones - it intoxicates you.

“…do you want me to?”

geto waits for your response, not daring to touch you the way he wants, without knowing you’re aching for it. and you want nothing more than that, for him to take care of you how he once did, oh how you wanted to see if he still remembered how to make you cum so blissfully. you nod giving out a soft “please”.

suguru kisses the side of your head, sprinkling kisses down your face making you giggle and fawn, till he reaches your neck and you lose your breath. geto finds the sensitive parts on your neck, making you feel so tingly, it's almost ticklish. you almost forgot how much you loved when suguru kissed and licked across your neck, how he would bite and suckle, leaving you all marked up just how he liked. god he’d go fucking crazy for it too. to hear you whine and pant below him as he licked and sucked. it sent tingles all over your body, straight to your clit. you shuddered under him, leaning onto him- to give him better access to mark you. slowly he grips your hips grinding his bulge into you, he even bends you forward a little so that you can feel him, how hard he is for you- humping into you over your clothed body.

geto held you at an angle arched while both of you stood in front of the mirror so that he could have you grind right back onto his dick that was growing so achingly hard for you. the way he moved your bodies together was so disgustingly sensual, you had to look away moaning as you felt his clothed dick thrust into you, giving you that sensation you so craved. you were whining, you felt so depraved like you hadn’t been touched like this in so long- you just wanted him to rip you the fuck open.

“mmm nah baby look at yourself in the mirror…” he demanded, to which you stubbornly ignored, forcing suguru to grab your face so that you could look at how pathetically you had come undone for him, just from his dry humping. “… i said fucking look at yourself, mmm? you lost your manners baby?” he teases knowing exactly how to fix your attitude. he ends his command by giving your thigh (without the tattoo) a firm slap, making you cry out, you quickly try stifling it, remembering you’re still in his fucking workspace.

“you’re so mean” you whine and pout up at him, which makes him chuckle at you, his smirk unfurling so lewdly.

“i’m going to make it up to you mmm? you’ll let me make you feel good baby? gotta apologise for making my baby upset.” the way he talks to you feigning that concern, his fucking tone, makes you feel weak, and pliant for him. as you move your legs a little wider, and let go of your tied bikini bottoms so they hang down barely concealing a thing. geto watches how strings of your arousal are built up, clinging onto your pretty bottoms. showing him just how wet you are for him and you push your butt into him even more, nodding your head in invitation for him to remedy all the mess he’s made.

as suguru brings his rose-covered hand down to your aching pussy ready to soothe it. once he touches her, feeling your glistening folds, he hisses as his eyes glaze over, and lower so seductively. you see the way his hand flexes and his veins protrude. his long, adept fingers dip further, caressing and rubbing against your hard little clit. he can feel it pulse for him, making you whine as suguru increases the pressure of his fingers on your clit. circling around your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers collect the slick past your lips, down to your spasming, weeping hole, and brings them back to your needy nub.

his tight circles, pet your pretty clit so well, turning you into a mewling mess, you can’t help but move against and around his fingers, acting so bratty- but suguru couldn't give a shit, he'll mould you right where he needs you again holding you by your neck and continuing his strokes on that clit regardless of how you whine.

"sug- aaa-" such a petulant whine leaves your supple lips, begging for him to go further into your leaking hole, you needed him to be inside you, having your pussy drool on his pretty, tatted fingers.

"i know baby, you need it don't you? you need me to fuck you open mmm?" suguru whispers in your ear, kissing the outside of your earlobe so delicately, while saying such filthy things. you look at him through the mirror nodding your head so pathetically, and why would he deny you, his baby? nah never...

suguru brings his finger back down to your desperate hole. he eases around your pussy going around the edges of her, only dipping the tip of his finger. you can't take his teasing-

"sugu! stop teasin-" suguru immediately interrupts, plunging his fingers into you, making you gasp. he slipped into your soppy pussy giving off that mind-numbing squelching sound, having your pussy suck his fingers in so snuggly, has you moaning wantonly. the way suguru’s digits fill you, he’s able to add a finger, scissoring two fingers into your weeping cunt, the way he pushes in and curls his fingers to rub against your plush walls it has you mewling. as you feel him find and rub against that spot, that perfect spongey spot so easily, your eyes roll back. suguru was losing his mind, he rasped a soft moan right into your ear, he loved watching you buck on his fingers, the way you moaned and struggled to take him, it made him itch and drool to have you.

his fingers in your pussy stroking and pumping into your soft, wet pussy. his hand around your neck holding your face up to keep your eyes on everything he was doing. his deep, velvety voice right by your ear, whispering, and moaning sweet nothings. you were losing your fucking mind, you almost couldn't handle it.

"aaa- nngg, sug- sug!," you moaned shamelessly "f-ohfuck i can't-"

"sshh baby, tf you think you're doing mmm, whining like that in my office?" suguru whispers chastising you. your eyes look up at him, and the way you looked so doe-eyed, so pathetic- barely able to hold in your moans, gripped him.

"you struggling to take it for me baby, want me stop?" geto taunts, but you instantly shake your head needing him all over you.

“no please don’t stop sug”

"you can take what i give you princess?"

"i need you uhahh" you wanted him to have you however he pleased.

the way he moves has you humping and panting, you wine on him trying to get some friction against your slutty little cunt.

your moans grow louder and the pitch of your whines grow higher- you suck on your pretty fingers to try and get yourself quiet, your eyes glazing over as you watch suguru fuck you so good with his fingers and his hard bulge pushing up into you. the way he licks and bites all over your neck leaving a trail of his marks. suguru still never averts his dark eyes from yours. the purple glints in his eyes kind of sparkle in your head. all of it is bringing you right to the edge. your eyes roll back, your thighs shake, your knees buckle from the pleasure. so pliant and easy for him to manoeuvre you so he can hold you up and fuck you in just the right angles he needs, that he demands.

“fuckfuckfuc- aahh ohhhh sugie. daddy oh mmynghh” you whine and cry, your head lolling onto his shoulder.

right on the precipice of your orgasm, suguru watches how you get so close to cumming, he’s fucking salivating seeing how you become so undone, how you’ve gone fucking dumb on just his fingers, he can’t help but moan and groan right with you.

“mmm mmfuck, mine. mine.” he purrs, licking all up on you

but all too soon, it comes to a halt, and your orgasm gets snatched away from you. suguru wickedly decides to take his fingers out of you. you almost cry

“wha- no suguru fuck no don’t stop, mmmmnoo” you whine so pathetically gripping his arm, it’s fucking laughable trying to keep his fingers right where you needed them, gripping his sculpted arms so hard. your hands… the size difference makes him smile. no not smile, he’s fucking smirking. that little shit.

“fuck you, SUG HMPH!” you practically stomp your feet, pushing him away as you’re about to walk away, but of course suguru grips you against him, pulling you back so close, you are still as stubborn as ever refusing to look at him, while you’re face to face, which makes him snicker. he isn’t having any of that bullshit tho, he grabs your chin and cheeks squeezing as a warning. he pulls your face up to him again and kisses you on your forehead, the side of your head, and your cheek, and then he ghosts his plump, nude lips over your lips.

“if i decide you don’t get to cum on my fingers, you won’t. i don’t fucking care how close you are.” suguru states, locking his eyes with yours so intensely, while his lips and breath feel so close to your own, you almost feel faint. you want nothing more than for him to just kiss you, you want to feel his lips again, oh how you miss how soft they were, how you loved the taste of his mouth, the taste of the mint with his own unique feel.

suguru’s eyes flutter down to look at your lips so lushly plump and glossed he can’t help but lick his lips. he wants nothing more than to mess up your brown and pink lip combo. to bite, suck and lick all over you.

“tell me you understand.”

“i understand daddy, m’sorry i threw a tantrum, i just wanted to cum on your fingers so bad-”

suguru smiles feeling fucking delighted from your admission

“-can you please kiss me, i promise i’ll behave sugie” you whisper almost whining at the end, you rub your thighs together feeling how you made such a mess for him, as your slick trickles down your thighs.

suguru feeling so pleased with you, groans into your mouth, once your lips touch. he almost forgot how much he missed this. how much he missed you, your lips, those soft lips that melted against his. he loved the way you gasped and whined from your slow kiss, so sensual and intimate. but he knew you were such an impatient brat, his impatient princess.

demanding more, you lace your hands into his hair. you adored his long, luscious hair so much, (that you remember countless times joking about shaving it off at night and turning it into a wig. those playful moments would always have you both bickering and laughing together. it makes your heart swell remembering this).

you begged for more by stroking and tugging at the nape of his hair, making his body tingle, as suguru moaned into your kiss. he licked on your lips to get you to open up for him. he loves the way you whine and moan from frustration and neediness while running your fingers through his hair, it made him lose his fucking mind, so, of course, he had to express that by nipping at your bottom lip. his bite made you whimper and grind up against him but it wasn’t enough. you needed more. you wanted more. but suguru leads the kiss to hold that slow, deep and sensual pace, having your tongues dance together, lick against each other unhurried. which was mind-blowing but also so frustrating you wanted to just devour him, you couldn't get enough.

you moaned into his mouth as suguru sucked on your bottom lip, and then went back to your tongue, licking against each other. he spat in your mouth briefly separating your mouths from one another, and immediately resuming the kiss. at this, you snapped. whining wantonly, you gripped onto him and stubbornly clambered onto him so your legs wrapped around his waist. suguru was easily able to carry you. you were determined to make him fuck you.

“daddy” you whisper, opening your eyes to pout up at him.

“yes baby?” suguru answers, giving little kisses along your chin down to your neck. sucking onto your sensitive neck areas, he knew just the right spots to make you lose your fucking mind.

“i want you to fuck me…” you say grinding down onto the bulge you could feel through his sweats. you were sure you could feel a wet spot on them, but you weren’t quite sure of the culprit, as your wet pussy dragged and humped on his dick print leaking with pre-cum. you could feel his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you, pumping you full of his cum. suguru hissed from the feeling of your mess teasing his aching cock.

“… please baby, please fuck me again, i said i’d be good” you whined, moving closer to his ears so only he could hear how desperate you were for him. suguru moans, his voice breaks and rasps a little from you grinding on him and circling over his dick.

suguru fucking snaps, he closes his eyes while his mouth slightly hangs open, just taking in how your hips wined on him while he carried you.

he then cupped your face to him, “you’re such a fucking brat.” he moans, holding your face and caressing your throat, he watches how your breathing picks up, as you get so flustered. he brings you close, kissing you on your forearm, bringing his hand around your neck. then he carries you to his tattoo bed.

“i am not going to fuck you yn-.”

“-but su!” you begin to whine interrupting him

“be quiet.” suguru reprimands, gripping your neck just a little tighter after placing you to sit on the edge of the seat “i’m not gonna fuck you on my dick. when i have you like that, it’s gonna be on my bed, where i can have you screaming on it without any fucking interruptions. do whatever the fuck i wanna do without you getting all shy on me tryna muffle those pretty moans from me mmm, you understand baby?”

“yeah daddy” you answer feeling so giddy and light with him

“there’s my princess,” he smirks, “you’re really that fucking needy, want my dick here, right where my colleagues are downstairs mmm?” he says before kissing you again. “good girl” he praises while lifting off your dress and quickly bringing his lips back onto yours. slowly he brings you to lay back. he gets in between your thighs lifting one up over his shoulder while letting your tatted thigh rest over the edge of the bed. from this angle he could see your pretty glistening pussy, clenching around nothing.

“lay back baby.” he instructs, he sees how you wait in anticipation for him laying back on the bed.

he crouches down, kneeling in front of your exposed pussy, your slick brown lips he’s completely hypnotised by, they glisten from your wetness. you grow a little shy, you weren’t prepared to be eaten out today (૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა). you bring down your hands to try and cover her up, feeling a little embarrassed.

suguru immediately dismissing your nonsense, and swats your hand away bringing them to instead hold your plush thighs “don’t piss me off today yn, it’s fucking mine.” you almost squeal in response to suguru, he gets so intense sometimes.

suguru is completely enchanted by your scent, the way your hole quivers and weeps for him he has to have a taste. keeping his eyes on you suguru takes the time to separate your folds with his fingers, he licks your swollen nub revelling in the way you gasp and twitch from the sensation, you feel so sensitive from the way his fingers had you shacking.

he then delves in, lapping and sucking on your bud making you writhe and moan from pleasure. the movement of his tongue has such an effect on your pussy, it's marvelling. he takes his time, really getting you sensitive, flattening his tongue on your clit and then straightening it to add pressure, circling perfectly around your bundle of nerves, it makes you gasp and arch your back so prettily

“fuck! sug-daddy aaaahhh” you release a raspy cry, gripping his hair and pulling him into you to, so you can grind on his face, which makes him moan into you, muffling a-

“fuck baby” into your wet pussy, he has to hold your hips down as you begin moving around too much for him to control, so he holds your thigh and places his other arm on your hip, pushing you down, so you stay fucking still for him to play with you properly. suguru brings his tongue down to your leaking hole, thrusting his pointed tongue into your pussy making you mewl and cover your mouth to stop yourself from squealing.

the way you’re panting and moaning, suguru can tell you're going dumb for him, aching to cum all over him. he takes his mouth off of you as your moans get higher. you whine from the absence of his tongue on your needy pussy but he makes up for it by spitting on her, letting his spit slide onto your sensitive cunt. the way his spit glistens and slides down your pussy, he pushes it back into your hole, thrusting his fingers and spit back into you. you react by clutching your thighs together from the sensitivity which makes suguru look at you sharply.

“open.”

you whine, separating your thighs, so he can dip his head back down onto your clit which makes you shudder, bucking your hips into his face. he continues thrusting his fingers into you while his tongue plays and toys with your sore little clit. you can feel everything, it's all so much, your eyes roll back as your mouth hangs open letting out a broken moan while you tug at suguru’s hair.

the way his fingers scissor your folds open, cunt drooling and sucking him in greedily, while he laps and lightly nips on your clit letting his spit drool on you, just for him to suck on your juices. he eats so sloppily it has your eyes watering.

“s’good sug—so fuckin’ good,” hips grinding into the movement of his lengthy fingers, chasing that ecstasy knotting in the pits of your stomach, you’re so close you start seeing white, suguru knows you’re about to cum from the way your fingers tangle and tug at his hair, struggling to either push him closer or away from you. his dark piercing gaze never leaves your face.

“daddy m’gonna cum! shit hah aa sug please lemme cum oh please” you sob, which makes suguru groan into your pussy. feeling the way your hole clenches around his fingers, leaking out so much wetness. the way your hard clit throbs for him, your juices covering, adorning his beautiful face, he looks so pussy drunk. the only thing on his mind is making you cum all over him.

“mmm baby, you gonna cum for me.. that’s my good fucking girl” he says pumping his fingers into you while moving his other hand to circle your clit in tight circles, so he can talk you through your orgasm.

“oh fuck daddy! oh my godnngh” your hands immediately grip suguru’s hands as you squeal and moan wantonly. your body arches and bucks as you dig your nails into him leaving little crescents on his skin. your vision dots, as your body tenses, lips parting into a silent scream as your release flies through you, wetting the tattoo bed. suguru watches your cream flow beneath you, all over his mouth. he pushes your juices back into your leaking hole, drooling at the way your hole squelches.

“there’s my good girl, oh you did so good baby mmmm” he praises lapping at your excess juices spilling down, you’re so fucking sensitive it hurts

“sug-ahh it hurts, fuckk” you whine, purring up at him as you watch suguru’s desire envelop you, you can tell he’s not done with you, but you doubt you could even take anymore.

suguru slithers up to you, kissing and licking up your boobs, making you squirm. when he reaches you he holds your face so gently, mere inches away from you.

“you forgive me baby?” suguru whispers gently stroking his nose against yours, almost purring against you like a cat “mmmm?” he purrs stroking the side of your face and caressing your limp exhausted body. you feel so warm against him, so lewd and yet so protected.

“i forgive you, you’re such an asshole” you giggle feeling a little shy again, only suguru was able to make you shy, and flush so easily. suguru whispers back a thank you and captures your lips into a searing kiss, melting you both together so passionately. you clutch onto the nape of his neck and run your fingers through his hair, earning you a moan, as suguru’s tongue dances with yours sensually. he grips your hips, pulling you against him. you can feel his bulge pulsing for you-

“suguru, aye we’re back! and u’ve got another appointment waiting!” you both hear from downstairs at the reception, shoko calling out to suguru followed by gojo following suit making a ruckus, throwing a tantrum about his arm

“dudeee, where tf r u? i coulda died!” gojo shouts out. you can hear him coming up the stairs to suguru’s office

“mmm fuck suguru, they’re coming up” you gasp up to suguru who still refuses to take notice of them. he smirks, choosing to still feel all up on you

“mmmm don’t care c’mere” suguru states, you roll your eyes

“suguruuu c’mon” you smirk, pushing against him

“ugghh for fucksake” suguru huffs moving off of you, taking your hand and pulling you up to him making you yelp with excitement. you both come to your senses though when you hear gojo’s footsteps up the stairs getting close, both of you scrambling to put your dress back on and get you both presentable.

suguru then holds your chin, so you both look at each other

“what?” you nervously laugh at his intense look

“let me take you out yn? i’ve missed you so much baby” suguru pleads while stroking the side of your cheek with his thumb

“mmmm i dunno sug, dependdss on where you’re gonna take me” you smirk up at him

“let me worry about that baby, i wanna treat you, try and make it up to you” suguru implores and then kisses your forehead just as gojo barges in-

“sUgUruUuu!!”

♡ ༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻

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tmntkiseki · 4 months

Text

The very long post where I talk about all the stuff I like from each of TMNT 2003's three art styles (and nitpick at the stuff I don't)

Seasons 1 - 5

When most people think of TMNT 2003's art style, they are thinking of the first five seasons. The dark muted colors, the heavily muscled designs of the turtles, the dynamic lighting effects that change depending on the location, time of day, and the weather. But what is it about the style from the first five seasons that is just so damn tasty?

Interviews with Peter Laird reveal that in terms of the turtles' appearances for the 2003 series, while he doesn't dislike the 1987 turtles, he did find them too cutesy for his liking and described their designs as being "puffy" and "kind of inflatable." The way the 2003 turtles were designed with heavy, well-defined builds was to firmly establish them as ass-kicking superheroes capable of inhuman feats of strength and agility in combat. This is even reflected in the choice to give them white slits for eyes like their Mirage comic book counterparts, which further emphasizes just how serious and intimidating these versions of the beloved characters are meant to be.

One of the things that really does stick out with me with the turtles is the use of "shade with black." Ever since I started learning how to draw in middle school, I've always been told to never shade with black; it looks flat, the colors aren't as deep, your art will suffer for it, etc. But for TMNT 2003, the choice to shade with black is actually of benefit to the series. People love TMNT 2003 for arguably being the darkest and grittiest animated incarnation of the TMNT with a lot of scenes that REALLY pushed the limit of what was okay to show on children's television, and color choice does so much to set the tone of the kind of story you're telling. I especially love it when the shading is used to emphasize expression, like when the turtles are angry or scowling. (Pictured: Raphael during "Meet Casey Jones.")

While on the topic of shading; it's amazing how dynamic the lighting is for this series. As I mentioned earlier, depending on whether a scene takes place indoors, outdoors, underground, underwater, during the daytime, during night, in the rain, etc. the lighting changes to reflect whatever situation the characters find themselves in, whether they're in a hard fought battle with the Shredder or just relaxing in the lair. Lighting for scenes is further affected by things like monitors, candles, street lamps, and other things, and it really brings out both the characters and the environments. (Though I can imagine it was incredibly taxing on the animators, who didn't have access to the same technology that's available now.)

Obviously if I had to nitpick, one of the biggest shortcomings of the 2003 series primary art style is the fact that there isn't a lot to differentiate the turtles from each other physically. If you take away their colored headbands and weapons, the only thing you have to tell them apart is their skin colors; Leonardo is forest green, Raphael is a deep emerald green, Donatello is olive green, and Michelangelo is myrtle green. Without those differing skin tones, there really is nothing setting the brothers apart from each other other than their headbands and weapons (something that the Fast Forward and Back to the Sewer did fix to an extent.)

And this is definitely a "me" thing, but to an extent, I do find the way their builds are drawn is a bit too... bulky? I know they're mutants, that cartoon/comic book style is all about exaggeration of physical features, and that the whole point of giving them these well-defined muscles was to make them appear powerful and athletic, but I dunno man. When I think of ninjas, the first things I think of are "speedy" and "acrobatic," followed by "strong," and while you obviously need a considerable amount of muscle to wield the weapons and perform the stunts that they do, there is a point where too much muscle does ruin the idea that that these turtles are just as fast as they are strong. But, again, it's a "me" thing and I'm pretty sure there are a LOT of people who would disagree with me on this.

Fast Forward

I mentioned in my last post that, believe it or not, I actually do prefer the overall art style for Fast Forward. Why? There are certainly arguments to be made about why Fast Forward's art style is inferior to the first five seasons; for instance, the lighting isn't nearly as dynamic, the designs are simpler and not as detailed, and the overall color palette is far more saturated. So why do I like it so much?

Well, simple: It ultimately boils down to personal preference.

Given my minor ramble about how I don't like how bulky the builds were for the first five seasons, Fast Forward is (to me) an improvement in terms of how the turtles are portrayed in terms of physical appearance. They still undeniably have a lot of muscle to them, but it looks a lot more natural and I can believe they are as fast and agile as they are strong. Fast Forward was also the season where they attempted to individualize the turtles' physical appearances a little more, and while there could have been a bit more effort in that regard (like keeping the missing chunk in Leo's shell from seasons 4 and 5; seriously, why is that gone?), I think they succeeded. Donatello is the tallest and slimmest, Raphael has the most muscle and broadest shoulders, Michelangelo is the shortest, Leonardo is a nice middle ground, etc.

I also really, really love the designs for turtles' gear this season. A lot of people have mentioned how good the turtles look in black/dark colors, and they really do look more like proper ninja this season, albeit future-themed. The praise I have for the designs extends to the supporting cast and villains as well; the future setting, with all its aliens and technology, offers so much in the way of creative potential, and characters like Cody, Darius, Bishop, the Dark Turtles, and many more all have very appealing designs despite being simpler than the earlier seasons.

However, for all that I love about Fast Forward's art style, there are two aspects to it that I have a massive love-hate relationship with.

First off: The shape of the turtles' heads. They are basically pentagons/hexagons this season depending on the angle they're drawn from and this actually isn't the worst thing if you're learning how to draw the 03 turtles? Because visualizing their heads as pentagons/hexagons is actually very helpful when trying to draw them as they appear in earlier seasons. However, in the context of Fast Forward, the more geometric shapes of the turtles' heads is almost too simple and does make them a little... dopey looking at times. Which becomes even more confusing as to why they went with such basic shapes for their heads when some of the official Fast Forward art uses a much rounder style for the heads that looks SO MUCH better in comparison.

The other aspect to Fast Forward's art style that I have a love-hate relationship with is the overall color palette, which was a consequence of the season going for a lighter, more humorous tone when compared to earlier seasons. It's funny because normally I absolutely love bright, vibrant colors and it doesn't actually look bad knowing Fast Forward's tone, but given I'm one of the people who does not like how different the writing is from previous seasons and how much it affected both the storytelling and characters, obviously I want my Fast Forward turtles with darker, more muted colors. (Though keep the glowy bits. I love my glowy bits.)

Back to the Sewer

And now we get to probably the only art style from this series that I do somewhat dislike.

So, let's talk about something that was originally an issue for me, and is an issue for a lot of people who watched this season: the fact that the turtles' eyes are visible through their masks. Obviously, after six seasons of the turtles only having white slits for eyes, this change is pretty jarring and back when I first started watching Back to the Sewer, I was not happy about it either, especially with just how cutesy the eyes are (and normally I'm the biggest fan of cute; one of my favorite "junk food" anime is Acchi Kocchi, for crying out loud.)

But after actually watching Back to the Sewer, two things happened: first, I got used to the turtles having their eyes visible, and eventually I realized that this is actually to the turtles benefit. The turtles are arguably at their most expressive in Back to the Sewer, and the eyes further help individualize the turtles; Leonardo and Raphael both have smaller, more angular eyes, while Donatello and Michelangelo have rounder eyes (likely to make them look more youthful compared to their older brothers.)

I still don't totally like the 03 turtles having eyes, but again, that's probably because we literally spent six seasons with just white slits and when compared to the changes Fast Forward made to the show's art style, the ones in Back to the Sewer are even more extreme and it just feels very unnecessary. (Based on early concept art of Leonardo for the season, it looks like they were trying to mimic the style of the 2007 movie, which would explain the eyes, as well as changes to Splinter's design and April getting completely redesigned.)

THAT SAID, they did go all out with the turtles' attire for Back to the Sewer. Stuff like the cybernaut armor, the stealth suits, the goofy fantasy garb from the MMORPG they end up playing, and the tuxes they wear at April and Casey's wedding are all incredibly appealing and while, again, I don't like the lighter tone of this season, they probably wouldn't have been able to put the turtles in these outfits had it still been dark and gritty like seasons 1 - 5 (I have seen quite a bit of fanart of Donny in his Sorcerer outfit and that makes me a lot happier than you realize, haha.)

Sadly, my compliments to Back to the Sewer do end there and it's probably for the best that I end this post here anyway since it's 3:15 in the morning and I'm falling asleep at my keyboard. (I can't wait to wake up tomorrow and see just how many typos I made.)

Thank you for listening to me ramble about my TMNT 03 art opinions and have a good day/night!

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt fast forward #tmnt back to the sewers #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo

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spagyricqueen · 2 months

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Discourse on Ascended Astarion

These are just my thoughts. I have them. This seemed like a place to share them. I dunno...

So, I think the discourse on this subject is a little wacky, but as I read through some of the comments, I think I understand a little better? The new kisses for AA are causing all kinds of vitriol among the fandom, and I'm just trying to understand it.

People seem pretty upset that Tav (or Durge) has 'victim' expressions when Astarion is forcefully kissing them. I get the upset, if you're RP is related to the idea that maybe they want/like the forceful kissing or subjugation. The new animations, for me, did not surprise me and honestly made it a little more clear as it leaned into the idea of the Ascendant that I had all along; he becomes toxic, with a twisted idea of what 'love' is.

However, I've read very strongly opinionated defenses regarding the relationship as a whole. Primarily this idea that Astarion makes Tav/Durge their 'vampire bride'? I'm sorry, what? I thought it was pretty clear from the dialogue that you become his spawn (albeit his 'special' spawn, but still a spawn), and when you ask him if he would ever make you a 'true vampire', he deflects with saying something to the effect of, "All in good time. You need to adjust first."

I read somewhere that the dev notes on that line of dialogue specifically states that this is a lie. He lies a lot to you during that whole exchange. He is not the same person. Perhaps there is some strong debate over whether or not he kept his soul (in my prose, I describe his 'losing of his soul' to imply his core essence and not his actual immortal soul). But the power he gained fundamentally changed his perspective on life, on his relationships, and on how he views himself.

A vampire bride? First of all, from what I understand of D&D rules, this requires a lot of criteria that Astarion does not have. If I recall, it's a ritual that can be performed by an "ancient" vampire or greater. It takes more than one feeding from the sire to achieve this. It's a whole thing, called The Dark Kiss ritual. Astarion only granted "one drop" of his own blood, and he is not an ancient vampire.

They are a spawn, and that's all there is to it.

The expressions of fear, however, I'm not sure I have too much opinion about. Again, me personally, it makes sense and reinforces the idea of Astarion becoming comfortable with his power over Tav/Durge - perhaps a little too comfortable. This could always change later on in the relationship, perhaps, with Tav/Durge asserting themselves or learning to manipulate her sire (Astarion) in return. That's the beauty of fanfiction. Play with those 'what-ifs'.

In the end, it's all just fiction.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #writing #ascended astarion #vampire ascendant

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lookbluesoup · 1 year

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Hydaelyn in Endwalker

At the risk of looking stupid online I'm going to field my perplexions about Hydaelyn that've been bothering me for months lol This post is... a little Hydaelyn critical. But I do offer that in good faith, I LOVE the character and I'm not trying to just trash her, I'm genuinely interested to hear other perspectives about it. (But please be nice, everyone is entitled to their own take)

Also this is not in response to anyone else's post. I haven't even seen any Hydaelyn posts circulating lately. I'm not vagueing anyone or trying to start drama. Just trying to sort out my own feelings about this character.

So my main takeaway from MSQ was that love is, ultimately, what saves you. That humans (including Ancients!) aren't perfect, and cannot love perfectly, but the shared love of you and others is still what saves you.

And, also, that grief is a part of life. Mistakes are a part of life. Conflict and loss happen, but they need not destroy you. Stand for doing right as best that you can, forgive yourself and keep trying, keep loving - both yourself and others.

There was an incredible amount of emphasis on not judging or hating one's enemies, about accepting the humanity in all of us and coming together, which I really loved.

There was also, of course, a huge rejection of self-sacrifice and martyrdom.

I saw all those themes in the Dark Knight quests a LOT (especially before the English translation changed so many scenes), and I assume Ishikawa was continuing that theme from Shadowbringers onward.

So again! I don't hate Hydaelyn!

But I feel like... at least in the English translation, she is still treated with excessive reverence, like a goddess, by the Scions - even ones it didn't really make sense to after her origin came out, like Y'sthola.

And at least on my first playthrough, while I like Venat a lot and love the drama of the Final Days pushing everyone into points of desperation, to their breaking points, and her decision to sunder the world definitely did ultimately help (help!) make it possible for us to defeat the Endsinger... I dunno.

To me she was still subject to the same arrogance as the rest of the Ancients. Whether her decision paid off or not, she still took into her hands the fate of the entire Star, she still made a decision that would result in millions of deaths.

And if we're going by Hydaelyn's own assertion, that each reincarnation is their own person, not just a missing piece of a whole... then to achieve her goal of a better world, she killed all the remaining Ancients except those three.

She chose to create a world where death and trauma would affect generation after generation - and she can say that it was for the greater good, for the world to survive. But that was essentially the Convocation’s justification too, in creating Zodiark and orchestrating the Rejoinings. Committing genocide to prove that genocide is wrong… is not noble.

The cutscene with her sundering the world, where the people insist they'll return to a world free of sorrow underneath a burning sky, could also NOT be how it actually happened. It had to be representational of her feelings and conclusion. Becoming Hydaelyn took coordination with her followers and planning.

At least in English, idk about the original Japanese, Hythlodaeus's shade describes the time of the Sundering as if the world wasn't in utter ruin at that point. It was beginning to heal, they had restored some natural systems, but the Ancients were short in numbers. At that point, they were done sacrificing their own people, in time they were going to sacrifice other life - plants and animals, to restore those lost brethren.

At the very least, Hythlodaeus's completely different account shows that the two sects of people post-Zodiark were viewing their sacrifice and end goal in completely different ways. Ethics aside, whether the competing goal was achievable or not… we will never know, because Venat stopped it from happening.

But I don't think either recounting has a monopoly on the truth. There was no One Truth, there were just competing needs and perspectives. And though Venat insists that unity is necessary to avert the Endsinger - she perpetuates this division. Azem refused her followers call to help summon Hydaelyn, and I think that's significant.

But I'll also acknowledge that Azem didn't manage to save the Ancients, either.

And you could argue that the Ancients were their own worst enemy. They kind of were.

Hermes was a really, really great caricature of severe, untreated Depression. And he had the powers of a god. His creations were sent to find a specific answer in the world beyond, and like their creator, they didn't have the tools to process hearing an answer other than what they were expecting. They were trapped in their own perspective. He was looking for answers in the stars, instead of in himself. Their own pain and inability to engage with emotion in a healthy way overwhelmed every encounter they had and created the very reality he so feared.

He did not use the proper channels for peer review before sending them out on their mission. Those rules, those checks and balances, that community approach to design, existed to protect the Ancients from their own power, and he deliberately acted in secret. He isolated himself from society, convinced himself his pain was something nobody could understand, made an island of himself and doubled down on his own jaded beliefs.

I don't know what kind of mental health facilities were available to the Ancients - we just don't have that information. But I do know that he was treated with patience and forgiveness by a significant number of colleagues, and his quirks weren't held against him. People did try to help and accommodate him, even if they didn't always understand. He had been promoted to a powerful position. I don't know if it's fair to blame anyone in particular, or even their society, for what happened. Because again... everyone was doing the best they could with what they had.

If anything, the problem was that literally any Ancient could have made a similar mistake in the right situation. They were ALL that powerful. Eventually chaos would happen. Sundered souls can certainly create destruction, but not on the same scale.

I don't personally agree with Hydaelyn's decision not to reach out to the Convocation. I understand being careful, and thinking through what the next step should be before acting. But there's a LOT of "maybes" in this argument:

And ultimately, it's her doing the same thing as Hermes, putting the power of judgement over an entire people in her own hands. She's assuming that she is in a unique position to decide the fate of the entire Star. It's not evil. But it's arrogant. She wasn't special among the Ancients, gifted with some unique wisdom. She was doing the best she could from her own perspective.

Plus... if half your population, and then another half again are about to sacrifice themselves... what have you got to lose by outing Hermes and/or trying to work with the Convocation to avert that loss of life? We don't have all the details, I'm willing to accept that there were circumstances that made it impossible, or at least made Venat decide against trying it. But even so. What did you have to lose leading up to the summoning of Zodiark? There was already panic and destruction at that point.

Hydaelyn sacrificed a lot of people to accomplish her goals. She made a goddess of herself and manipulated people like Minfilia on that basis. She killed so many children and stole so many lives even just by reincarnating Minfilia over and over on the First. She misrepresents the nature of the Ascians to the WoL, keeps secrets, and essentially charges you with being a crusader in her Holy War.

It's Emet- Selch who tries to bridge the gap. Not Hydaelyn. It's him who's willing to consider trying to achieve his goals without bloodshed, if you, the WoL, are strong enough. He says this to himself, out of anyone else's hearing. There's no reason for it to be a lie.

And just before Mt. Gulg, you can see Emet starting to question his beliefs about humanity because of the WoL's accomplishments. Hydaelyn has nothing to do with that. It's all you. And Emet succumbs to his own weaknesses too, so we never get to know what that might have happened if you'd had more time with him. He's not better than her.

But I think it's significant that he's the one who reaches out. Who's willing to consider a compromise at all.

In war you make sacrifices, I get that. But she was not more heroic, somehow, than the Ascians. Both sides were doing terrible things and denying the agency of mortals in order to achieve their ideal world.

So to me... she was not a benevolent incomprehensibly wise mother figure. Much like in real life we go from being kids who trust our moms implicitly, to adults who realize our mother was human and made mistakes, I think we’re supposed to recognize that Hydaelyn didn't do everything right and its our job to carry the future forward for subsequent generations, to learn from what came before, and hope that our own children do the same and forgive us for our own mistakes.

I think its very important to note that the WoL is just as much the Convocation's creation as Hydaelyn's. Without being rejoined as many times as they were, the WoL wouldn’t have survived. She saves you from the Ultima Weapon, Emet-Selch saves you from Elidibus, and its their powers combined that save you and your friends from the Endsinger. You are the legacy of each side’s imperfect love, equally.

WHICH brings me to my point of perplexion. Hydaelyn continues to be venerated. NPCs who know what happened continue to emphasize her side of things. I feel I must be missing something, because to me, the finale of Endwalker essentially shattered any idea that this was a Light vs Dark kind of story. People made choices. People made mistakes. It wasn't good or evil. It was human. We survived in spite of our mistakes because love was more powerful than our imperfections.

The Scions sacrificed themselves one by one just like the Ancients. And got brought back using energy from the Star... not all that different than what the Ascians had planned to do with their own brethren. I just don't see much functional difference there in the sentiments between either side.

I don't think we're supposed to hate Hydaelyn. I don't think she was evil. But I don't think she was better than the Ascians.

So while I don't expect, or want, characters to be condemning her left and right in the narrative, it's still baffling to me that there's such consistent, explicit reverence for her.

#ffxiv #ff14 #hydaelyn #venat #emet-selch #ascians #ancients #meta #shower thoughts #long post #endwalker spoilers #dark knight spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #text

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toomuchracket · 1 year

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bday girl (birthday partyverse!matty)

day 2 of The Birthday Party Project, first birthday as a couple - yours! this is my og friends-to-lovers couple, who've already had a very successful time of it at a birthday party, trying to manage your big day a mere few months after getting together. very fluffy, and very suggestive (because this pair especially cannot keep their hands off each other). enjoy! p.s. the pic of matty isn't thematic to the story, other than being an indicator of the era it's set in, i just think it's very pretty lol <3

you're abruptly awoken by the tinny synthesised beeps emanating from your phone, informing you that someone wants to facetime you - something that should be illegal at this time in the morning (7am), you think. after flicking on the bedside lamp, you fumble to put your glasses on and pick up your phone, your irritation lessening rapidly when you see it's matty calling you. you tap the screen, and your boyfriend's handsome face fills it. he beams when he sees you, although you're sure you look ridiculous, all sleep-addled and askew. "happy birthday, darlin'! how'd you sleep?"

"terribly. s'not the same when you're not next to me. i miss you," you pout. "that, and i forgot how uncomfy this bed was. no wonder my back's fucked after sleeping on this for the entirety of my teenage years."

matty laughs as he wanders through what you recognise as his kitchen. "maybe you're just getting old. nah, i'm joking, babe, it's probably the bed."

"being mean to me on my birthday? you're evil, sweetheart," you say, rolling onto your front. "especially considering you couldn't make it up here with me today. but it's your loss, considering you didn't get to wake up to this, in a single bed."

at that, you balance the phone against the pillows and sit back on your knees, allowing your boyfriend an excellent view of your outfit - his mazzy star t-shirt, tight across your tits, and a pair of dark red panties. matty laughs then groans lightly, raking a hand through his curls. "fuck me, you're gorgeous. my fomo about not being with you just got a whole lot worse," he grins cheekily. "can i request you put on that exact outfit for me as soon as you get home?"

"yeah. but what about the eroticism of being pressed up against me wearing it in a single bed?"

"hmm, i suppose the couch will have to do. although i can't really spread you out there as i intend to, can i?"

"matthew."

your boyfriend giggles, although you both know he's being serious. his face softens, a wistfulness setting into those beautiful big brown eyes of his. "i really am sorry i couldn't come up to see your family with you, darlin'. s'shite that we're swamped with album promo right now. hate not being with my girl."

matty's words warm your aching heart (and "my girl" sends a burst of heat straight between your legs. muscle memory, you think - your boyfriend likes to say it when he's between them). "s'alright. what time d'you think you'll be done with work tonight? we could do phone sex!"

"i dunno, darlin', but i like the sound of that a lot. i'll text you," matty smiles. "and i expect texts from you today as well - wanna hear what you're up to celebrating, and you better send me outfit pics too. fuck knows i'll need to look at you being beautiful to get me through today."

you've known the man for the better part of a decade and been in a committed relationship with him for two full months; and yet, the constant casual compliments matty loves to shower you with never fail to both astound and arouse you. moving forward to lean on your stomach, you kick your legs back and forth behind you, giddy. "i can do that, yeah."

"god, you're so cute," matty sighs. his eyes flick upwards slightly, presumably to check the time on his screen, and fill with slight... dread, you'd describe it. "fuck. i'm so sorry, sweetheart, but i need to head to work now."

your turn to sigh. "don't worry, baby, we'll talk later. have a good day, yeah? i love you."

"love you too, angel. i'll speak to you soon. bye!"

you say a goodbye in response, and the call ends. for a few minutes, you do nothing but stare at the ceiling of your teenage bedroom and think about how much you wish matty was with you, then you roll yourself out of bed and get ready to spend a "nice day with your family", as your mum put it.

and it is a nice day, despite the longing for your boyfriend veiling it all. you open your presents over a fry up breakfast, dancing around the kitchen in excitement at the vintage barbie t-shirt your brother bought you. when you and your mum go into town, you spend ages in the bookshop you practically lived in as a uni student, glowing with pride when the staff ask you to sign a few copies of your books, and spend even longer in the shopping centre that opened after you left for london, trying and buying shoes and dresses and makeup products you probably don't even have room for in your flat. you head to meet the rest of your family for dinner in your favourite restaurant, your mum ordering a bottle of red wine for she and you to get stuck into while you wait for the others to show up. it makes you think of matty, and the longing for him worsens. you excuse yourself from the table after greeting your just-arrived cousin, sneaking out the front door of the restaurant.

when you're outside in the still-warm early evening air, you pull your phone from your handbag and check your texts. nothing from matty since four hours ago, when he responded to your summer-dress shopping mirror selfie with a compliment so risqué that it made your cheeks go intensely crimson and had your mum asking if you were ill. lovesick, maybe, unable to cope without seeing your boyfriend for two days maximum. you're briefly reminded of those couples at school who used to make out in the corridors before having one single class apart; the thought you might be anything like them makes you shudder, and swap your phone for the pack of cigarettes and lighter also in your handbag.

you've no sooner placed the unlit cig in your mouth when you hear a familiar voice from further down the street. "don't you fucking dare light that, sweetheart."

your heart skips, and your legs go to copy them when you turn to see matty, looking tired but heartbreakingly handsome as ever, walking towards you with your brother in tow. cig in one hand and lighter in the other, you run to your boyfriend, throwing your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he picks you up in a tight embrace and spins you round. "what the fuck?! i thought you were at work," you say, hugging matty tightly as he puts you gently on the ground. you lean over his shoulder, pulling one arm free to point accusingly at your brother. "and you! did you know this was happening? you might've told me, you little shit."

the two of them laugh at you, matty kissing your forehead before he answers. "i was meant to be working, yeah, but we wrapped promo yesterday morning. texted your bro here to organise coming up to surprise you, and drove up today - as soon as we hung up this morning, i was in the car."

"you drove?! babe, that's like a seven-hour journey!" you gasp, pulling matty into you again. "you must be exhausted. christ."

"worth it," comes the reply, muffled by your hair. "there was no way i was missing your first birthday as my girlfriend, not a chance."

you place a delicate, chaste kiss to the underside of matty's jaw. "you're so fucking cute."

your brother makes a retching sound. "i'm gonna go inside before you pair traumatise me. don't spend too long kissing out here, please, you'll hold the food up."

you roll your eyes, but matty chuckles and extends a hand to your brother. "thanks for all your help, mate."

"no problem," your brother replies, as they fist bump. "it's for my own benefit, really - the last thing i want to hear is this one whining about you all day."

he smiles as matty laughs, and then leaves the two of you alone. matty waits until the front door of the restaurant closes before he turns to you. "i, on the other hand, definitely want to hear you whining about me all day. well, more 'whining because of me', but you get the gist."

"oh my god, stop it."

"sorry, baby," matty grins, kissing you languidly. "can you blame me, though, after that outfit from this morning and the dress you tried on? it's taking everything in me not to drag you into that single bed right now."

you twirl your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck just the way you know matty likes it, looking at him up through your eyelashes. "i think you should do that."

matty's breath hitches, before he takes a deep one and composes himself. "can't - there's a whole family of yours in there that i need to play 'wholesome, charming boyfriend' to, first. but after that, darlin', i'll take you home and be as dirty as you want me to be, alright?"

"i... i love you."

"i love you too, sweetheart. happy birthday."

#mads does writing #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy #into the birthday partyverse #matty x reader

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invinciblerodent · 5 months

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Musings about the Thorm family

(HEAVY Act 2 spoilers ahead!)

As I'm replaying the game and mucking around the Shadow-Cursed Lands, I... can't seem to stop thinking about the Thorms.

I could be interpreting things all wrong here, but it seems to me that Thisobald, Malus, and Gerringothe Thorm, they're... all supposed to be Ketheric's relatives, no? The information on how exactly they're related is confusing (I've found places on their wiki pages where they call them all Ketheric's siblings, one where Malus is said to be Ketheric's uncle, but Thisobald keeps referring to Ketheric as "father" which I don't know if he means more as creator, as in if he's supposed to be Balthazar's twisted creation that merely sees Ketheric as a father or what) so it's unclear how exactly they're supposed to be related, but... they are still Thorms. Ketheric's, and by extension Isobel's family, who were all alive before Reithwin would have succumbed to the shadows and the Dark Justiciars.

Like, I don't claim to have perfect understanding of the timeline at all, I could totally be seeing this all wrong, but as I'm interpreting things now... it's said that the Thorms were a powerful Selûnite family, and the patriarch, Ketheric, a renowned general and paladin(?), turned to Shar worship in his devastation over the loss of his wife Melodia, and his daughter Isobel. He turned his back on Selûne, and led an army of Dark Justiciars against the Selûnite town of which he had once been in control, and both kidnapped her daughter's lover and Selûne's own daughter Aylin, and before his defeat, unleashed the Shadow-Curse that ended up corrupting the very spirit of the land, Thaniel. (My guess is that the intent was to kill Thaniel, but he was merely torn asunder by the curse, and the part of him that stayed himself managed to flee to the Shadowfell before he would have lost his power, while the damaged part of him that stayed behind made a home in Oliver's body.) Then, as he was brought back to life by Myrkul, Ketheric agreed to sell his soul in exchange for his daughter to also be brought back to life; true resurrection. On this much, I'm (mostly) clear. This mostly makes sense to me.

..... But the rest of the family... also all watched this entire thing happen. They too lost first Melodia, then Isobel, to death, then Ketheric to madness and then death, and then themselves as well.

Sure, they were likely corrupt even while alive, I'm not arguing that they weren't. Of course they were. But the little notes around town, they only say that Ketheric put his relatives in charge, and that the Thorms had the "cushy jobs". And I assume they were... all pretty normal people then, all things considered, because none of the notes I've found mention that, btw, the tollmaster has recently taken to wearing a suit of gold, dunno what that's about, or that the surgeon had blades for fingers, idk if you noticed, though those would be pretty important things to note about them.

Malus was likely the worst, with how ardently he seems to have taken to true Shar-worship, even with a clear mind (the medical textbook he wrote is described as crisp and detailed, blending Sharran aphorisms with genuine medical science), and how many atrocities it's suggested that he's committed, but... before getting his fantasy!medical license revoked, he likely was a genuine healer, a doctor. Not a cleric, but a surgeon. The head to the House of Healing as more than just a figurehead, before his curse-warped mind would have led him down this dark path, and since none of the memos and notes seem to have been dated, we don't actually know how far gone he was when he wrote things like "anaesthetic is a tool to relieve my ears of my subject's screams as I apply the blade, not a mercy to be freely dispersed to living corpses". Could have been during the assault, could have been decades later, we don't actually know.

Gerringothe, sure, she was greedy and corrupt, but she was... just a clerk, a toll collector. She pinched and pilfered valuables, but the curse, it amplified all her worst qualities, and I think drove her to madness quickly- likely even before things got so bad as for her to become what we meet her as, this devilish-looking, emaciated being masquerading as a golden statue. She seems to have quickly devolved to having horrible outbursts of anger that had her employees hide in safes to save themselves from her, but before? I... don't know if I've found anything to suggest that she was likely to have been all that much worse than many other characters in similar positions. She was likely just a corrupt official with a mean streak, looking to make a buck on the side. (I can't figure out why she is the only one of the three with the "fey ancestry" passive feature though. Ketheric and Isobel have it as well, but the others don't seem to??? Are they just too far gone???? Idk????)

And Thisobald... I think he was a pretty young man when he was put in charge of The Waning Moon. And even in undeath, he's very gregarious, genuinely friendly for someone in his situation, and he sounds almost innocent as he ushers you to the bar, sits you down, and requests that you drink with him and delight him, tell him stories about your adventures for which he rewards you by answering your questions to the best of his ability. (He makes a silly li'l poop joke when you talk about the Grymforge, ffs! He's just a chap! A dude! A sweet little fella!)

The undead patrons' dialogue and the book in the backroom at least reveals that Thisobald was a distiller, a brewer once- but as the curse (and likely Balthazar, given the extensive disfigurement of his body, what with the four legs, the tail, and the tank on his back) warped his mind, he seems to have turned more and more towards stronger and stronger toxins, poisons. (Because, well, what is alcohol if not a less harmful poison?) He seems to have become obsessed with creating a deadly powerful toxin, and then, once his mind was too warped but before he could finish it, he seems to have lost interest in that as well, and "lived" from that point only to drink his poisonous brews, and be merry.

It's just... all so sad. How just one man's inability to cope with loss ruined him, his remaining family, his town, and so many lives after as well; how he blighted the land for a hundred years and caused so much suffering, just because he could not accept the loss which he alleged to turn to worship.

Ketheric was never a true worshipper of Shar. He could never actually embrace loss or absence as holy. But he did drag everyone still dear to him down with him for it.

edit- just fixed a typo

#baldur's gate 3 #ketheric thorm #malus thorm #gerringothe thorm #thisobald thorm #isobel thorm #bg3 meta #i guess #bg3 spoilers #?#does that even count on my blog at this point #squirrel plays bg3

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enigmatist17 · 9 months

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"Buck?"

"Yea man?"

"Why are you awake?"

"No reason."

"It's not no reason, not at 3am."

There's a sigh, and slowly a head peeks out from the kitchen. It was indeed 3 am, and Buck had almost forgotten about the two sleeping on his couch.

Well, one of them was asleep anyways, little Christopher peacefully asleep against his fathers side. He and Eddie had been crashing on Buck's couch ever since Buck had been welcomed back to the 118, and while Buck repeatedly offered the spare bedroom, the answer was always the same.

"Oh it's just for tonight."

Yea, sure it was.

"Sometimes I have to just get up." Buck shrugged, slipping his hands into his sweatpants pockets as he made his way to the dark living room. "Sorry I woke ya."

"You're fine, really." Carefully Eddie wormed his way up into a sitting position as Buck perched himself on the edge of the couch with a sigh. "Out with it then, come on."

"Out with what?" Buck's usual grin fell flat as Eddie raised his eyebrow, and they hold eye contact for a few moments before his shoulders slumped. "I dunno - part of it is I'm still surprised you guys keep coming back, part of it I keep waking up and thinking that the damn tsunami is back and Christopher -" Buck looks away with a shaky cough, and squeezes the hand that covers his.

"It would have to get through me first. Now come on, get over here or go and be all depressed in your room."

"I won't go and be "depressed"." He groused, but scoots further up onto the couch with a quiet grumble, slipping against Eddie's side like he's done it a thousand times.

"Yes you will." Eddie chuckled, pausing when Christopher shifted at the new weight beside him, burrowing between the two and going still after a few moments.

"He's a good kid." Buck gently reaches over and runs his hand through the youngers hair, shoulders relaxing a little bit further at the soft noise he lets out. "He was so brave you know - down at the pier? Kept on smilin' and cheering up everyone because you've raised a damn fine son."

"I always say it, he's the light of my life." Buck laughed breathlessly, and his eyes light up with his smile this time.

"You're so sappy man." Eddie shrugged with a smirk, and without really realizing leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Buck's temple.

"Maybe I am." He chuckled, eyes going wide when he really registers how close to his coworker he is, and both of them experience what a computer feels when it bluescreens.

"Did ah - did you just kiss me?"

Was it hot in here or was it just him?

"...apparently yes."

They bluescreen again, before Buck lets out what he can only describe as a giggle. They spill into full-blown muffled laughter when Eddie lets out a chuckle, and soon they're trying to muffle their laughter like two kids up late on a school night as they try to not wake Christopher. They're both crying by the end and breathless, but are grinning from ear to ear as Buck kicks back with a very pleased hum.

"Soooo, you gonna kiss me again? Or is it my turn? Because it can totally be my turn."

"You're okay with this?" Buck looks up with a grin, and shrugs.

"I'm not super surprised to be honest?" He shrugged, and Eddie facepalms with a snicker. "Also everyone already thinks I'm gay, so maybe they just know something I don't??"

Eddie's snicker turns into a loud laugh, and surprisingly his son doesn't wake as Buck watches in amusement.

"Clearly bud, clearly." Buck grins as he moves close, kissing Eddie's cheek. "The cheek?"

"Aw c'mon, at least it's the face!"

"I mean the temple counts."

"Nope, not at all."

"Oh it so does!"

The nightmares of the tsunami don't come back when the giggling duo eventually fall asleep on the couch an hour later, and Christopher wakes to the sight that puts a smile on his face.

Finally

#911 #911 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck buckley #christopher diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck

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vickyvicarious · 10 months

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I love the way everything is said in June 30's episode. Everything, let's be honest. That said, here are some of my absolute favorite parts:

The chains rattling once again and the way Jonathan says "the door - would not - move." The waver in his voice on the word "despair" right afterwards

Honestly, everything about his struggles with the door. The screeching, the effort in his voice on "pulled. and pulled." and "shook it", the way he's breaking down, frantic... finally fading into resignation to the horrible reality.

And then determination not to let that stop him. Reckless, wild indeed, but he will not be stopped this time.

His BREATHING, mentioned now but I wanna emphasize it throughout all the episode! He sounds breathless, almost panting, so much of the time. It's the extreme emotion, the exertion, the complete collapse of all facades, the blood loss... it's excellent

The way he delivers the line "I went through the door in the corner and down the winding stair and along the dark passage to the old chapel." - so quick and all in a rush. It's a horrible journey that only a few days ago was absolutely terrifying, but today it's old news. He moves through quickly, confidently. An echo of the way he went from absolute terror to 'the Count went out lizard fashion again' but more driven.

The genuine horror in his voice when he describes Dracula. His voice stuttering as he says "looking a-as if his youth had been half renewed..." and that EXCELLENT music repeating again throughout, building

ALSO, creepy Jonathan moment? The way he says "the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin... and neck." is sooooo?! He lingers a little on the red lips again but most especially the way he says the word 'neck' almost sounds hungry as well as horrified, it's like he's merging with Dracula a little, I dunno, but it's creepy and amazing

honestly the whole description sounds even creepier read aloud and it was plenty creepy before

"I shuddered as I bent over to touch him" *long steeling breath* "and every-sense in me revolted at the contact." *nearly chokes up, wrestles his voice back* "But I had to search-" GHHHHH

His tears on "or I was lost." and the way seems almost to vanish into the picture of the future he envisions

"the very thought drove me mad" - the roughness on that word gave me chills

Shovel Noise So Good

but then as Dracula sees him, oh god - the low horn, ringing noise, music getting faster

Jonathan's slight stutter on "fore-head"

"But my brain seemed on fire" being so rough and pained, god Someone Hug Him Now (no not you vampires!)

the rush of the wind

"I was again a prisoner" the EMOTION, and on "net of doom" too!

The entire bit where he narrates in present tense is SO much more intense/immediate this way. Love the little stutter on "I - I can hear the heavy feet"

and I'm just sitting here thinking about how hopeless this must feel, after all his effort, after everything - to have the wind itself turn against him, to be trapped once more, to have to just sit there and listen as the key he has risked so much to find is used and then taken away, leaving him as trapped as ever

But he REFUSES to sit and wait.

the way he scoffs so violently when comparing the vampire ladies to Mina, "nought in common"

the quiet desperate way he says "home"

The way he almost sounds hopeful to fall. I wanna cry.

And then ending on "Mina" still so rough and despairing but the love is felt in every part of the word, AUGH

The theme song is so good!

bonus mention of the bonus, as hilarious as it was in the original little clip

#dracula daily #re: dracula #catchup post #jonathan harker #edit: i meant june whoops

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ruified · 4 months

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❝ a much needed 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 ˎˊ˗ — pt. 1

warnings - fluff, skk . characters - pm! dazai, chuuya, mentioned mori . synopsis - mori sends the young double black on a mission without specifying what for . a/n - here's part 2 and the fic on ao3 !!

A boy dressed in black, his body embraced by bandages, with shaggy dark brown hair sat in the back of a car. His knees were bent and pressed against the back of the passenger seat in front of him, which was unoccupied. His dark eyes watched the scenery outside fly by with very little interest, it was hard to tell if he was even looking outside or just spacing out. Beside him sat a smaller boy, yet a few months older than him, his ginger hair tied back in a small ponytail and a black pork pie hat on the seat between him and the other. He had his head tilted back against the headrest, his eyes shut—he may be sleeping, it was hard to tell.

The dark haired boy let his eyes wander and eventually they landed on the dozed off boy. He slowly reached for the hat that sat between them and picked it up. He leaned over from his seat towards the ginger and placed the hat over his face very gently, so as to not awake him. There was silence for a few moments before the ginger’s gloved hand reached up and lifted the hat off his face, revealing squinted, piercing brown eyes that shot his partner a glare.

“Oi, Dazai, ‘the hell do you think you’re doing?” He cocked a brow, the right side of his upper lip tugging up into a scowl. The dark haired boy, Dazai, huffed and shook his head, his shoulders lifting as if the ginger had just asked him such a stupid question. “Well, Chuuya, I was trying to help you block the light out of your poor little eyes.” He pouted mockingly at Chuuya, batting his lashes a few times. “Sleeping beauty over there needs his rest.”

Chuuya clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, setting the hat back down between them. The hat almost served as some sort of boundary between them, and Dazai had tried to cross that boundary, just as he always does. “I wasn’t even asleep, smart ass.”

Chuuya sat up straight and stretched, letting out a lengthy yawn—for someone who didn’t fall asleep, he sure was acting like he had just awoken from a long nap. His voice carried a gravely tone, different from how he usually sounded, likely because he was tired. “Are we gonna be there soon or what?”

Dazai and Chuuya had been assigned a mission earlier by Mori to go to some town in the mountains. The town wasn’t super crowded or anything, it was small, more like a village really. It had a bath house run by a family and a few restaurants as well, it was certainly described as cozy—a weird place for two mafiosi to be sent to. Mori had never specified why he sent the two there, he said they’d know once they got there.

Dazai shrugged. “Dunno, but from the looks of outside I’d say we’re getting close. We’re pretty far out from the cities and I believe we’re already in the mountains.” Dazai turned around in his seat, reaching behind and digging through the stuff in the trunk. He sat down once again, holding a scarf in his hands which he folded in his lap.

Chuuya tilted his head after watching Dazai, a brow raised and a frown tugging at his lips. “You cold or something?”

The dark haired boy looked at him like he had lost it then sighed heavily, he shook his head. “No, but it’s going to be cold when we get out of the car so I’m getting ready.” His eyes scanned Chuuya up and down, then he grinned mockingly. “I sure hope you’ve brought things to keep you warm because there’s no way I’ll share my scarf with you.”

Chuuya scoffed and turned his head away, looking out the window now. “As if I’d ever want to do something as corny as that with you of all people.”

The car came to a slow stop and the driver informed the two boys that they had arrived. Dazai wrapped his scarf around himself while Chuuya just got out of the car, not bothering to bundle up—he regretted that. The air stung his cheeks, it felt sharp in his lungs as he inhaled. Shit, it was freezing. However, he did his very best to hide any reaction he was having as Dazai came around from the other side of the car to meet him, adjusting his gloves. Chuuya pushed his hat down further onto his head, hiding his face a bit.

The two scanned their surroundings, looking for signs of what they should be doing. They found themselves rather confused though, there were no other members of the Port Mafia there. There didn’t seem to be any sort of business going on or anything, it just looked like a regular day in this small village in the mountains.

Dazai and Chuuya exchanged glances, blinking a few times. Dazai was the one to take action, he turned to the driver and asked, “What is it exactly that we’re supposed to be doing here?”

The man who had driven them up here simply smiled as he looked down at the young man before him. “Your instructions are to relax. The boss wanted you two to head to the bath house and check yourselves in, everything should be ready for you there according to him.”

The two boys were left with their jaws hanging open, speechless. A break? With this guy? They turned to each other and both recoiled at the thought of trying to relax around one another.

Dazai waved the driver away and sighed, tugging his scarf tighter around his neck. “He seriously couldn’t have given us separate vacations? How am I supposed to relax at all with a dog barking in my ear?” He pouted.

Chuuya snarled and started walking towards the bath house. “Whatever. Let’s just go.” Dazai stood there for a minute then followed behind. He caught up to Chuuya and remained close behind him.

#ෆ┊¡ penned by val #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #skk #bsd skk #soukoku #soukouku #osamu dazai #nakahara chūya #nakahara chuuya

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penny00dreadful · 11 months

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Return of The King - Part 3

Is it getting hot in here? 🥵

I'm sorry guys, this is a CHUNKY chapter but in other good news it's finally up on AO3! 🥳

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 AO3

“Vampire.”

Steve nodded, squeezing his hips lightly, just once. “I thought so too.”

Eddie glanced down at his fingers again as the feeling started to return to them. The darkness felt close around them, almost cocooning them, not stifling and claustrophobic but safe and comforting.

Even so, even with the safety of the darkness, the firmness of Steve's thighs under his and the laughter that had convinced him of Steve's Stevesness (not to mention the incredible chemical sexual attraction that was almost definitely mutual) he couldn't help that last lingering thread of doubt that there might be something lurking unknown in the background.

Eddie looked up, searching Steve’s eyes.

“Are you still you?”

Steve cocked his head to the side, a slight crease appearing between his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean are you still Steve? Or are you mostly Steve but with a bit of Vecna in the back of your mind ready to be activated like a sleeper agent? Are you a part of the hive mind? Are you Vecna wearing a Steve Suit?”

“Uh. Honestly man, I don’t know. I think I’m still me? As much me as there ever was.”

“Can you feel him like Max could?”

“No, I don’t think so? I’d know, right? If I could?”

“You don’t think so?”

“No, I mean when I woke up I could feel something. But not a Vecna something, more like a bunch of small fluttering somethings. Like a swarm or… a cloud?”

“Like the bats?”

“I guess? It doesn't really feel right, though.”

“But no demodogs or demogorgans or Vecna?”

"Nope."

"And you don't feel like this thing is… I dunno. Watching or taking over or something?"

"Not really, it's difficult to describe. It's like," Steve looked around, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say, absently fiddling with the hem of Eddie's top, "it's like it's just a very, very small bit in the back of my brain. I don't think it's capable of watching or taking control. It feels honestly like it's a bit left over from whatever made me like this. Like it's not even really conscious."

Okay. Honestly what other kind of answer could he hope for? Steve's eyes were so sincere, so honest like he always was. He genuinely told Eddie when he didn't know the answer to something. He didn't know what that swarm/cloud was in the back of his head and he didn't think it was an issue.

So Eddie didn't think it was an issue and he moved on.

“When did you wake up?”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty difficult to keep track of time down there. But I was…” he gestured around his neck and body, lifting his shirt up to show his unscarred sides and Eddie had to fight himself not to touch. “Fixed. And I didn’t start to feel hungry until I got back here.”

Well… if he was a vampire and he was hungry…

“So, blood?”

Steve ducked his head a little as he smiled. “Are you offering?” God damn it his smile was enchanting. It should be a terrifying thought, the idea of offering himself up for a meal but he wasn’t scared. Not as scared as he really probably should have been.

Evidently he’d been silent for too long because Steve gently pushed him out of his lap and scooted back a little. “Don’t worry about it, man. I’m not hungry.”

Eddie felt his body slump, his weight back on his own legs and just the thought of how nice it had been to be so close left an ache in him. But he didn’t push back.

"I could be. Offering."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"You don't want to taste me?" He pouted, batting his eyelashes.

Steve's eyes visibly changed, his honey brown swirling with yellow like cat's eyes as he bit his lip, his entire face hungry in such a sexual way Eddie could feel his body react almost immediately.

Shit, he was really playing with fire here, wasn't he?

"I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie tutted. "Pity."

"Tell me about it."

“Okay well, when did you last eat? What did you last eat? Is Farmer Dan going to find a vampire cow in his pasture in the morning?”

Steve snorted. “No. I ate this morning. Butcher's blood.” He smiled across at Eddie before his face morphed into panic and he held his hands up. “Not, like, the blood of a butcher! I mean blood from the butcher’s shop!”

“Yeah, yeah, relax, sweetheart, I figured.”

Steve’s face tinged slightly pink at the pet name and it made Eddie’s heart flutter, which only made Steve’s blush deepen.

Well shit.

Nope, he needed to get it back under control.

“Are you telling me that Hawkins' famous dead King Steve Harrington stealthed into Barry’s Butchers and stole?” Eddie slapped his hands to his face in mock horror. “You’re a criminal, Stevie.”

“No, that’s not exactly how it happened. I just kinda… walked in the front door.”

“You- you what? No, man. No way, The whole town knows you’re dead. You’ve practically been canonised. People would have freaked out if you just walked in.”

Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Yeah, so I’ve seen. But um… no, I was able to… I don’t really know how to describe it-”

Eddie’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked for him, leaning forward again.

“Oh my god, can you thrall people?!”

Steve shrugged. “Kinda.”

Eddie slapped his hands down on Steve’s knees, physical distance forgotten. “That’s so cool. Thrall me. Thrall me!”

“You- what?”

“Put me under your spell.” Eddie purred. “I wanna see.”

“How do you know I’m not thralling you right now?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Okay. Thrall me.”

“You’re putting an awful lot of trust in me.” Steve was looking at him like he was crazy but with an undertone of apprehension.

Eddie sat back again and could feel his whole person getting softer. “Well yeah, Stevie. I trust you. You’re a good guy, you’re a protector down to your soul. You’re safe. Of course I trust you.”

Steve’s entire being seemed to inflate with bashful pride. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Eddie watched as Steve’s eyes seemed to worm their way directly into his brain, warm and welcoming and safe.

A different kind of safe than he was used to from Steve, an immediate feeling rather than an earned endearment.

Say "Tears for Fears are musical geniuses".

"Tears for Fears are musical geniuses." Eddie repeated, monotone and bland before immediately scowling.

"Dick move, Harrington."

"Oh, I'm Harrington again now, am I?"

Eddie nodded, crossing his arms and exaggerating his upset face. "You're in the doghouse after that."

"Oh no." Steve pouted, pushing out his bottom lip in mock sadness. "How can I make it up to you?" He blinked his big brown eyes at him, looking so innocent and sincere it lit a hell of a fire in Eddie's belly, the only thought going through his head was corrupt him.

"I'll think of something." He growled feeling his own confidence bolster at the return of the pink blush over Steve’s cheeks. “Pretty cool power though. That’s how you got your blood?”

“That was a part of it.”

“Wait.” Eddie’s smile was starting to split his face, his excitement bubbling through. “There’s more you can do?”

“Yeah. You wanna see?” Some of Eddie’s excitement seemed to be rubbing off on Steve and he sounded almost eager to show off.

“Do I wanna see? Of course I wanna see!”

“Alright.” Steve stood, holding a hand out for Eddie. Eddie allowed himself to be pulled to his feet with a disgustingly hot amount of strength, leaving their hands intertwined. “I’m gonna hide.”

“Well that’s hardly fair. This is your house, you know it inside and out. If we play hide and seek, I’ll never be able to find you.”

“I’m not gonna leave this room.”

Eddie glanced around, there was almost nowhere to hide in here. Maybe under the bed at a push or in the closet but the doors were closed and they would definitely make a noise if opened.

“Where could you possibly-?” Eddie turned back, looking to his side but Steve was gone. He was… what had he said?

The space where he’d stood was empty, there was nothing there and Eddie was having trouble concentrating on the spot where he’d just been.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head trying to get himself to focus. Steve had said something about hiding? Maybe? Quite literally nothing had been moved in the room, there was no flutter of curtains or movement of bedsheets, the doors to the closet were still closed and the bedroom door was only cracked slightly open, like it had been this entire time. If he’d been in here… something would be moved, right?

There was a thread of something in his brain, just beyond his reach. Something he couldn’t quite grasp, like trying to catch smoke in his hands.

Something about it didn’t feel right, there was a release of pressure on his fingers as he moved forward that he couldn’t concentrate on. The only option he really had was that Steve had somehow left through the door…

But he’d…

What had he said?

There was a vague thought in the back of his mind that he should be more worried. Steve had only just reappeared back in his life, back from the dead and was gone again. He should be worrying that Steve had maybe run, or abandoned him or disappeared forever but again, it didn’t feel right.

Just as he reached out to touch the doorknob a pair of arms snaked around his waist, holding him tight and a voice whispered low in his ear “Gotcha.”

Eddie would forever deny the squeak he let out as he was lifted off his feet and spun back into the room, being gently let back down with his heart thundering and his breath ragged, none of which was the result of the surprise of Steve’s sudden reappearance and had everything to do with the feeling of being lifted like he weighed nothing.

He turned back to Steve who had his head cocked to the side and a slight smirk curving up the side of his face.

“You get this cute little scrunch in your nose when you’re confused.”

“You were there the whole time?”

“Yeah. Just like I said.”

Eddie stared at him, trying to keep his brain from going to all of the most depraved of places, thinking up scenario after scenario of how those damn thralling powers could be used.

He had to focus on other things. On the… on the nerdier aspects of vampirism or he might spontaneously combust.

“Sunlight?” He blurted out.

Steve blinked for a moment, surprised, before his smirk softened. “I haven’t been out in the daytime yet, I don’t know.”

“Crosses? Holy water? Consecrated ground?”

“Haven’t broken into a church to check.”

“Garlic?”

“God, I hope I can still have garlic. My nonna would never forgive me.”

“Your nonna? I thought you were Irish?”

“My dad’s from Ireland. My mother’s mother is Italian.”

“So you’re just all around very Catholic?”

"I haven't been very Catholic in a while." Steve laughed.

“Okay. We'll have to re-examine the crosses and holy water later on then. Can you turn into mist?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Can you turn into a wolf? Or a bat? Please don’t tell me you can turn into a bat.”

“I would have assumed you’d think that’s cool.”

“You can?!”

“No, I don’t think I can.”

Eddie huffed, crossing his arms. “It would be cool. It would be so super cool but honestly Stevie, I’m mad.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Out of the two of us I'd objectively make a better vampire. I mean look at me.” He took a step back and spun in place.

Steve tracked the movement closely. “I’m looking.”

Eddie glared, trying to seem haughty and irritated but it was a losing battle against that smile.

“And look at you. What kind of vampire looks like he enjoys golfing?”

Steve’s mouth turned down in an immediate scowl. “I do not look like I enjoy golfing. It’s not even a real sport.”

“Are you gatekeeping sport?”

“No.”

“Sounds like you are.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Yeah, fine. I don’t have a vampire fashion sense. I look more like a-”

“A werewolf.”

“A w- a werewolf?!”

“Yeah. All that hair.” Eddie smirked, running his hand over Steve’s chest.

“Don’t hate on the chest hair, people love the chest hair.”

“Yes they do.” When Eddie finally managed to drag his eyes away from Steve's chest and back up, his gaze landed on his head hair and a horrible thought occurred to him. “Oh shit! Mirrors! Stevie, what are you going to do if you have no reflection anymore?!”

“I have a reflection, don’t worry.”

Eddie sighed in relief, placing his own hand over his heart. “Thank god, I don’t know what I’d do without that hair. I’d never be able to get it right and you’d hate me.”

“What?” Steve laughed. “You’d learn to do my hair if I couldn’t see myself?”

“Well, yeah. It’s important to you, right?”

The laughter stopped abruptly and the smile slipped from Steve’s face replaced by a look that was impossibly soft. “You don’t think it would be a bit… vain? Or like… ridiculous?”

“I think I’m the last person allowed to pass judgement on what makes people feel comfortable in their own skin.”

Steve looked at him for the longest time, so long that Eddie started to feel the need to fidget.

“You’re a really good guy, Eddie. You know that right?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Sweet talker.”

“No, I mean it. It’s why I came to find you first before anyone else.”

“Pretty lucky, you finding me in your bed.”

“Never felt luckier.” Steve flashed that smile that used to make all the girls in school swoon and Eddie’s heart was practically beating out of his chest.

“But uh,” Steve looked down, nibbling on his lower lip. “It wasn’t exactly luck that led me to finding you here.”

“What did you prowl after me from the treeline like a creature in the night hunting your prey?”

“No, dude, that sounds so creepy. I-” Steve faltered, his cheeks reddening slightly. “I followed your… your blood. Your scent.”

“My what? I’m not even bleeding.”

Steve nodded absently. “It’s really potent.”

“Oh god, don’t tell me if I skink,” Eddie hid his face in his hands, peeking out through his fingers. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“No, you smell like… it’s like…” Steve inhaled lightly through his nose, as if trying to not make it obvious that he was smelling Eddie’s blood in the air. “It’s really difficult to describe. Like trying to describe a new colour.”

The smell must be really god damn strong right now because he could feel his blood rushing through his body, unsure if it wanted to go to his heart or his face or his dick. “Okay, well what’s the first thing that comes to mind? First word that jumps into your head. Go.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered ever so slightly.

“You smell like… October.”

“October.” Eddie deadpanned.

Well that’s definitely not what he expected. He didn’t even really like the taste of pumpkin.

“Yeah, like… leaves falling on a cold morning. Like a log fire. Mixed up with… with sugar and the night and scratchy warm wool all jumbled together into… Eddie.”

Eddie had to bite down hard on his fucking cheek to stop from outright swooning. Jesus Christ who gave this guy the right?

“Uh-huh. Right. So,” he choked out. “That- that’s it then? The thralling and the blood smelling? Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “Do you have darkvision?”

"I don't know what that is."

"Can you see in low light?"

"Oh yeah." Steve glanced around, only seeming to now notice the room was lit by just moonlight. "I can see you just fine."

"Okay so, darkvision, blood smelling and thralling. Cool."

“I also heal quickly, move fast and I’m super fucking strong.”

“Oh.”

Oh no.

Now his brain was full of images of Steve throwing him around like a ragdoll and he was pretty sure he was about to expire on the spot.

Like, he'd guessed based on what he'd seen but having it confirmed was… something else entirely.

“Wanna see?”

“Wh-which part?”

Before he could even blink, Steve was in front of him, gripping him around the thighs and hoisting him up. Eddie was vaguely aware they were moving. Where to? He really didn’t fucking care at that moment, he just squawked like a bird and latched on as tight as he could, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist and scrabbling at his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you.”

Eddie couldn’t respond, his- he wasn’t- his brain was in his dick and he was pretty sure he’d dropped like twenty IQ points.

His entire body was rattling with the force of his heartbeat as he was pressed up against the bedroom wall like he weighed as much as a stuffed animal and he was practically panting from everything thrumming through him.

“I have a question for you.” Steve asked, even and measured and frustratingly calm.

Eddie looked at Steve whose eyes were so cocky and self-satisfied it should have been an immediate turn off but he was pretty sure nothing could turn him off right now.

He only managed to breathe out a mmhm as Steve held him there, gently, with only the weight of his body keeping him in place, sandwiched in between a solid chest and a solid wall and with his legs clamped around Steve’s hips and holy mother of god.

“That bandana in your back pocket…”

Yeah, Eddie had completely stopped breathing.

“Does it always stay on the same side?”

Steve wasn’t even looking at his eyes anymore, he was pretty resolutely staring at his lips, his jaw, his neck and Eddie had fucking transcended consciousness, no longer on this plane of existence.

He shook his head, like an idiot before trying to push an answer out.

“I sw-” His throat swallowed suddenly, involuntarily, against his will. “I switch.”

Steve nodded, his eyes still hot on him, low and lidded. "Me too."

Eddie could do nothing but stare with his mouth parted, the puffs of air he was breathing out gently ruffling Steve's hair.

“And how do you like it?” Steve’s hands were slowly crawling backwards, inching up his thighs towards his ass.

Eddie swallowed again. “Rough.”

Steve’s eyes were nearly black but there was none of that yellow colour that had appeared before around the edges. Any colour that was visible was that human honey-brown.

“I could hurt you.”

“I’d like it.”

“No, I could really hurt you. I’m not… I’m not human anymore.”

“You never would though.”

Steve searched his eyes, looking intently for any kind of doubt or hesitation but of course there was none. Eddie had been all in for a long time now. He slung his arms loosely around Steve’s shoulders, running his fingers lightly through his hair and squeezing his legs tighter, bringing the two of them incrementally closer.

“You have to tell me to stop. If I- if it’s too much or too far… you have to tell me to stop. Or slap me, punch me, push me away, anything-”

“I’ll tell you to stop, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Will you kiss me now, please?”

Steve leaned forward, gentle and careful. His lips were warm and smooth and he was pliant and golden and god damn perfect but Eddie was having none of being treated like a delicate porcelain doll. He bit down hard on Steve’s bottom lip, being rewarded by a sound of surprise before it changed into something darker and the thrill was like a live wire through him.

It was like being hit by lightning the way his whole body tensed from anticipation then went limp, trying to mould himself against Steve’s chest like water. There was a large hand in his hair and another on his ass grinding, pushing and pulling him forward and backward and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never tasted anything so indulgent in his life before.

They were a mess of grabbing hands and desperate tongues and his jeans and boxers were being ripped effortlessly under him, right down the middle so he didn’t have to unwind his legs and holy motherfucking shit he nearly came on the spot from that alone.

He begged Steve to bite him. Begged and pleaded and whined and got downright pissy about it but Steve refused.

“I’m not going to accidentally kill you in the middle of fucking your brains out.”

“It wouldn’t- fuck, Jesus Christ Ste- it wouldn’t-” Eddie was finding it very difficult to string a coherent sentence together in between getting his guts punched out and the rhythmic up and down movement of Steve’s thrusts. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go- Ah!”

“You’re a menace. Let me be sweet to you, baby.”

“Yeah, real fuckin’- real fuckin’ sweet. Oh, fuck me. T- Tell that to my jeans.”

Eddie was completely lost to the stars, surrounded and invaded by Steve and he’d never been more thankful for anything in his life before.

If he could show himself from the start of spring break a snapshot of this moment, that this is where everything led… sweaty and panting and undone, being wiped down with extreme care with the only thing that was in reach which was some scrap of fabric that had been magicked out of somewhere, by the man of his dreams who was looking at him like he was someone… he’s pretty sure he’d do it all over again.

Just to get here.

Although… Eddie grimaced as he thought a little harder on it.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked as he helped Eddie out of his ruined jeans, dropping down heavily next to him on the bed. Steve’s hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat and he was sleepy and blissed out, blinking at him with those giant hazel eyes.

“I think I would have preferred if you didn’t have to die for us to have gotten here.”

Steve pursed his lips and shrugged. “We’re here now. I think if I hadn't died we’d have gotten here anyway. I’m kind of crazy about you, you know?”

“Oh really?” Eddie grinned, laying back, closing his eyes and stretching out his body like a giant cat, completely comfortable in his nakedness. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Har har.” Steve crawled up the bed, settling down on the pillows next to him.

Eddie reached over to brush a lock of hair back into place. “I’m crazy about you too.”

Steve smiled, turning his head a little to hide in his pillows. “I can tell.”

“Am I that obvious?” Eddie wiggled around, trying to snuggle himself up as much as possible under the covers.

“Yeah.” Steve followed suit, burying himself in deep. “But I can also hear your heartbeat and it’s been singing to me since you swung that bat.”

“I mean,” Eddie shuffled a little closer. His body was so tender. He was going to be so sore tomorrow, he couldn’t wait. “You were a creature of the night creeping up on me to come and steal my seed.”

Steve blinked at him before lifting his hands and holding Eddie’s face softly. “Jesus Christ, you are so fucking weird.” He pulled him forwards into a kiss that was so adoring and sickly sweet Eddie thought he could feel a cavity coming in.

He kept his eyes closed for a second after the kiss was broken, sucking his lips into his mouth.

“Do you sleep?” He asked, yawning.

“Better than I have in years, ironically enough.”

“Good. Because I don’t know how much longer I can stay awake for. And we have a lot of people to see tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Steve turned his back, pulling Eddie’s arms tight around him.

“G’night sweetheart.” He mumbled against the back of Steve’s neck.

“Night Eds.”

~x~X~x~

It was an entirely new experience, waking up slowly, one that he hadn’t had in over a month.

Before this he would jump awake from every little sound in the boathouse and when he was safe again with Uncle Wayne he’d always wake up suddenly, either screaming, panting or crying.

Lying relaxed and easy, opening his eyes slowly and feeling warmth and comfort around him was something he had sorely missed.

Steve was pressed up against his chest and held tight, still passed out and beautiful in the indirect morning light.

Eddie snuggled back in, not wanting to move, not wanting to give this up for anything in the world.

If he hadn’t seen first hand the devastation that the Party was currently experiencing he would have made a hell of an argument for staying here all damn day.

But he’d already been gone for far far longer than he ever had before and they were going to notice. There was no need to send them all into a panic ahead of time, especially when it was going to be an extremely emotionally exhausting day already.

Steve huffed in his sleep, stirring and apparently irritated at the very idea of having to wake up. Eddie gleefully filed it away, delighted that sunshine boy himself Steve Harrington was not a morning person.

He was shoved onto his back as Steve rolled over, draping himself completely over Eddie’s chest and apparently settling down to go straight back to sleep.

“Stevie.” Eddie sing-songed.

Another huff.

“It’s time to rise and shine with Mr. Sun.” He traced his fingers across Steve’s face, outlining his cheeks, his jaw, his nose.

“Mr. Sun can fuck off.” Steve grumbled, rubbing his cheek against Eddie’s sternum. “‘M a creature of the night. Mr. Sun is my enemy.”

“We don’t actually know that yet. We’ve gotta get you out into the light to find that out.”

Steve turned his head, poking his chin into Eddie’s chest, squinting and trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. His hair was a mess, completely flat on one side, sticking up in every direction in the other. Paired with the unhappy scowl on his face it was the most adorable thing Eddie had ever seen.

“Come on, baby. We gotta go inform everyone you’ve risen from the grave.”

“Just call them here.”

Eddie froze for just a second, regaining his composure quickly but not quickly enough to not be noticed. Steve sat up, hovering over him. “What is it?”

Eddie chewed on his lip, looking up at the concerned look he was getting. “They won’t come here. It’s too- they think you’re dead, first off. So it would be like breaking and entering… or tomb raiding or something. But they’re all not really… in a place to be around anything that reminds them of you. It hurts too much.”

A complicated set of emotions flitted over Steve’s face before he let out a soft “Oh.” slumping where he sat.

“We usually meet up at my place now. Big Government gave me and Wayne a house so that’s nice.” He reached up to push back some of Steve’s wild morning hair. “But I’m going to have to borrow some pants. Some savage got at my jeans last night and I’d rather not arrive home in DIY assless chaps.”

“You’d hear no complaints from me.” Steve muttered, smiling a little as Eddie wormed his way out from under him, wincing slightly as he stood, crossing the room and starting to dig through the drawers.

“Of course I wouldn’t. But I’m just taking these to get home in,” he waved a pair of sweats around “I’ll change into something more fashionable once we get in.”

Steve scoffed. “Fashionable. Right.”

Once Steve had managed to drag himself out of bed and he got dressed, they both stood in front of the closed front door.

“It’s pretty sunny out there.”

“Yeah.”

“No neighbours though. So no one to see if you shrivel up.”

“I won’t shrivel up.”

“Maybe you’ll turn to ash.”

“Oh thanks, now that’s in my head.”

Eddie took Steve’s hand. “You really think you’ll be okay, though?”

Steve squeezed his hand back. “Only one way to find out.” He swung the door open and without missing a beat stuck his hand straight out into the sunlight.

The hand didn’t shrivel up or turn to ash but Steve didn’t leave it out there for too long. “Feels like really intense summer sun. Like a heatwave. But that’s all.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Better than ash.”

“Yeah.”

They both looked out across the front garden again. Eddie’s van was about ten feet away, without a lick of shade in between.

“Think you can make it into the back okay?”

“I’ll just sit in the front.”

“Not that I don’t want to parade you around town sweetheart, but people will see you. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I can hide. Use my thrall or whatever.”

“Oh yeah, and I’ll wrap the van around a tree when I get confused about where you’ve gone.”

“Well obviously I won’t use it on you.” Steve rolled his eyes, tugging on one of Eddie’s curls.

“You can choose?” Eddie slapped Steve’s hand away, trying and failing to smooth his hair back down.

“Kinda. I can choose who isn’t thralled.”

“Freaky.”

Steve chuckled. “Thanks.”

Eddie smiled back, having to drag his eyes away to check his watch. “Okay. It’s still a bit early to start volunteering at the shelter so Wayne could be home. I might have to pretend you’re not there.”

Steve nodded, nonchalant and entirely too innocent. Eddie couldn’t help but feel like he was walking into a trap but Steve just smiled at him, gentle and easy.

“I’m on to you.” Eddie said as he stepped out of the house and crossed the garden to open the passenger door. He wasn’t, he had no idea what devious thing Steve was thinking up but he didn’t have to know that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

By the time he had rounded the van to pull his own door open, Steve was already sitting in the passenger seat, moving faster than Eddie could see.

He just rolled his eyes, hopping inside. “Show off.”

They didn’t really talk on the ride over, Steve was taking in all the ways the town had changed in the past month, how abandoned it was, the cracks in the earth.

Eddie hesitated at the threshold of his front door, turning to look back at Steve from the hallway.

“Are you not gonna invite me in?” Steve asked with a cheeky smile.

Eddie smiled right back, shaking his head and waiting with his hands clasped behind his back.

It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes now, taking a swift and unimpeded step forward into the house, grinning again.

“Ed?”

Wayne’s sudden voice came from right behind him causing him to jump nearly a foot into the air.

“Are we air conditioning the whole road now? Close the door.” His uncle was waving his hand in front of him in a closing motion, completely blind to the resurrected vampire standing just to his right.

“Right, sorry!” Eddie shot Wayne what he hoped was a bashful smile while Steve sniggered loudly beside him. He closed the front door and whacked Steve across the arm before following his uncle into the kitchen.

It really hit him then how strange it all was as Wayne started informing him of the latest drama at the shelter. It was a very strange sensation, to be standing, talking to his uncle as if it were just the two of them, like there wasn’t an apex predator of a creature standing over his shoulder directly in Wayne’s line of sight but not seen.

It made him feel uneasy, like he was on display in a zoo or some kind of arena. And Steve, ever the meddling bastard, was trying to torture him.

“Marion needs to get her head out of her ass.”

Wayne just shrugged as he knocked back the last of his coffee. “It’s easier to let her think she’s in charge.”

“I don’t know how you hold your tongue around her.”

“Not all of us go pickin’ fights against ‘the man’ for no good reason, Ed.”

“There’s plenty of ‘good reason’!” Eddie threw his hands up. “Marion wishes she-” He inhaled sharply as a pair of hands grasped his hips and Steve ground himself right up against Eddie’s ass.

Wayne cocked an eyebrow at him. “You alright?”

“Uh,” Eddie breathed out as he attempted to jab his elbow backwards, trying to make it look like he was running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m-”

That was a terrible mistake. A terrible mistake because as he’d shifted his hair he’d left his neck exposed and there was now a pair of warm lips running gently up and down his skin.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure you’re not comin’ down with something? You look a little flushed.”

“Yeah, you look a little flushed, Eddie.” Steve’s husky voice breathed into his ear and he fought hard not to shudder. He was gonna stake Steve in the heart himself, the prick.

Eddie breathed in, flapping his arms around trying to make it look like a dramatic gesture. “I’m good, don’t worry about it.”

Wayne stared him down for a few more seconds before putting his empty cup in the sink. “Alright. I gotta run. Don’t be gettin’ up to any mischief while I’m gone.”

“No promises.” Eddie laughed, a little hysterically, waving his uncle off. “Bye Wayne!”

As soon as the front door clicked closed he rounded on Steve who had the most infuriating smile on his face.

“Were you trying to fuck me in front of my uncle?”

“Wanted to test my limits.” Steve tilted his head innocently.

“Your limits? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“So I heard.” Steve purred, leaning in close but stopped short, his eyes snapping to the front door over Eddie’s shoulder. “Someone’s outside.”

“Yeah, Wayne. Don’t change the subject. I didn’t know I was starting up with some kind of sex demon-”

“It’s not Wayne.”

Eddie glanced behind him to see the door still closed and no one lurking in the window before looking back at Steve.

“Are you still hidden?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Eddie took a few deep breaths trying to bring the flush on his cheeks down and get himself back under control before he made the few strides necessary across the floor plan of the house and swung open the front door.

Shit.

Robin stood there, with her arms wrapped around herself, wearing a sweater that he was positive she’d stolen from Steve months ago, the same blank look on her face and her eyes on the ground.

Eddie hesitated for just a second before he decided whatever was about to happen, it was better for it to happen inside. He stepped back from the door, letting her in and coming up with a complete blank of how to move forward with this suddenly delicate situation.

After he’d clicked the door close behind her he turned to Steve who was openly staring at Robin, wide eyed and incredibly worried. He looked devastated, letting out a small exhale, a whisper of “Robbie” that sounded so pained and so small.

Robin’s head snapped up with a quickness she hadn’t possessed for a long time, her eyes sharp and alert.

“Steve?”

The colour had completely drained from her face. Eddie had never really understood the phrase white as a sheet until that moment, it was like she didn’t have a single drop of blood left in her head.

Robin swayed dangerously on the spot for just a second before her eyes rolled completely back and she collapsed into a dead faint.

Before Eddie could reach out, before her body could even hit the ground Steve had almost teleported from one end of the room to the other, catching her securely in his arms and clutching her tight to his chest.

“How…” He breathed, turning his panicked gaze back up to him. “How could she see me? Eddie? She wasn’t- she wasn’t supposed to be able to see me!”

Steve knelt down on the ground, settling Robin gently in his lap and cradling her close to him. Eddie just shook his head dumbly in their direction, he didn’t know. He didn’t have any answers. He was just as shocked as Steve was.

Before either of them could say anything else, Robin stirred in Steve’s arms.

The two of them looked down at her with bated breath as her eyes fluttered open, squinting and confused before widening when she realised who she was looking up at.

“Ahoy, sailor.” Steve whispered.

Robin placed a shaking hand on either side of Steve’s face.

“Am I dead?” She croaked, her voice weak from lack of use.

“No,” Steve let out a wet laugh, sniffling immediately after. “No, Birdie, you’re not dead.”

“Oh.” Her eyes darted around Steve’s face, taking it all in before glancing to Eddie, taking in the room behind him then back to Steve as though trying to figure out exactly where she was.

Robin blinked slowly once more before her face crumpled and twisted into a sob and she threw her arms around Steve’s neck.

“I’m sorry. Robin, Birdie, Bobby, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, it was supposed to be a gentler introduction, I swear. You weren’t supposed to see me.” Steve babbled as Eddie tried to quietly remove himself from the situation, to give them some privacy, slowly backing away, patting his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

“Stevie-Evie. Steve.” Robin implored. “I'll always see you.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 AO3

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