#and i am so nice to moon :) *crosses my fingers behind my back*
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Moon when i bully her because. She is so bullyable
#i love moon#and i am so nice to moon :) *crosses my fingers behind my back*#Ngl part of it is that I'm called Moon by my friends even before this game so really i have rights#art#fanart#kitscribbles#just me being mean to a character with the same name as me#rain world#rain world downpour
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Stupidly in Love
A flourish of ribbons fly in the air as a certain jester lays out a nifty little fabric square upon fresh grass, a clearing within a great field, the forest behind, sun in the sky, birds singing their little theatre songs.
Fool gave a synthetic breath in, before turning to his companion.
Misuta glared up at the bright skies above, before he himself turned to Fool, a slight look of confusion coming to his face.
"When you asked if we could go out together, I wasn't expecting... this."
Fool gave the man a cheshire smile.
"Why not? A beautiful day to spend with someone I hold so nice and dear to the heart?"
Misuta sat down in a huff, but Fool had noticed those flushed cheeks immediately.
"... It... is nice today, you're right."
"As I am so often~"
Fool deftly landed on his behind beside Misuta, twirling his baton in his limber hands before settling it down upon the blanket beneath.
Today, there'll be no sun nor moon, just him and the heart stealer beside him.
Oh yes...
"What's in the basket? We can't eat..."
Misuta asks a very promising question, responded to with a curved eye smile.
"Oh, my sweet man~ I'm very glad you asked!"
Fool reaches out, lugging the basket closer before popping the lid up, exposing its treasures like a trove untold.
"Books-?"
"I know how much you love reading, so, I may have sneaked a few books from our little Sweetling~"
A leer was sent the fool's way.
"You stole from them."
'Not unlike how you stole my heart', Fool was so close to saying the words on his very lips, yet he refrained, it was too soon.
"No, no, this fool would never go so low. My... what do you take me for?"
Fool had leant back, a hand to his chest in mock offense, yet he peeked open an eye to view Misuta as silence ringed between them.
Crossed arms met him, a single raised eyebrow with the most unamused expression greeted him in return.
"A thief."
"You hurt me."
"Good."
To anyone else, it'd be rude, but the two shared a coupling laughter.
Misuta would reach into the basket, pulling out the top book.
'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe'
Misuta hummed in thought, sitting back on a palm as he flipped open the hardcover entertainment, eyes already starting to flitter over the words and read.
Fool picked up his own book, yet he knew he wouldn't be reading, for his attention was taken by another, just as intriguing, thing.
Minutes passed, a comfortable silence settling between the two, one reading, the other attempting.
Fool took in no information, his gaze glancing up to the source of his warmth and love that had spiraled way out of his control.
He wanted to reach out, hold Misuta close to him and never let go, yet there was something holding him back, he wasn't sure...
"Fool...?"
Misuta was looking up at him, why was he so close suddenly? Fool shifted an arm, realizing exactly what was going on.
In his little daydream, he had indeed gotten closer to Misuta, their bodies touching, and Fool's arm had wrapped around Misuta's back, fingers a breath away from his waist.
Fool brought his mismatch up, meeting Misuta's own fuchsia.
"I-I..."
For once, Fool was speechless, his smile drooping at the corners as a flood of nerves was thrust upon him, he's sure he'd be sweating if he could.
He was frozen in place, staring, fake heart pounding with real love, one he felt when around the man in his arms, and the precious Sweetling.
Time stilled as the two stayed in their places, like deer under a scope, they were too nervous to move.
Until Misuta's eyes flicked down.
Fool took that as a sign.
He leant in, lips pressing to Misuta's so softly, he'd have melted, and felt like he would when the pressure was returned soon enough.
Fool's book fell to his lap as he brought a hand up to caress Misuta's face, a small order to stay where he was, yet neither of them wanted to pull away, not even for a second.
They caressed each other, eyes closed as they laid in their shared embrace, an arm tightening around a waist, pulled closer.
Until, they parted, while they had no breath to lose, they still wanted to see one another.
Eyes opened, and their love filled eyes met once more, a deeper understanding now felt within the two.
"Cariad… I… Rwy'n dy garu di…"
Misuta blinked at the foreign words before a soft laugh escaped his lips, and he presses another kiss to Fool's own.
"私も愛しているよ."
A mutual agreement of love, Fool almost couldn't believe it.
He wrapped his other arm around Misuta, hoisting the man upon his awaiting lap, making sure Misuta couldn't escape his grasp now that he was finally his.
"Oh… thank the very Heavens…"
Fool whispered into Misuta's neck, a sigh escaping the man as arms wrapped around his neck.
"Fool…"
"Mm… already with the pet names?"
Misuta rolled his eyes, though his amusement was as clear as the very sky they were under.
"Idiot."
"So mean to me…~ How could you be so rude to your boyfriend~"
They both stilled at that, realization dawning on each of their faces. Boyfriend.
They… are together.
They're in love.
A fluffy hood buried itself into Fool's chest, a heat being felt through Fool's flowy shirt.
"バカ…バカ…バカ…バカ…"
Fool laughed his sweet bird song laugh, his arms bringing Misuta closer to him even still, offering comfort to the flustered man.
"Mm… your stupid."
Stupidly in love.
For @venomous-qwille's gorgeous au Ghost in the Machien that hosts the best characters I've seen written in fiction and have my heart in a death grip <3
#sunny writings#sunny drabbles#misool#mysool#gitm au#qwille-la-qwille#misuta moon#fool eclipse#i'mnot fucking normal about them#iveb never been normal#i lvove#GAY#ROIOTS#RAAAA
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Phases of the Moon - Part 5
Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader
7317 words
Warnings: chances of a few swears, SOFT, like for real it’s gross, cliche AF
A/N: Surprise! This date is so long, it actually has to be three parts. This is a feast of my soft, simp BS
As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.
*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*
Masterlist
You walked in silence, albeit a comfortable one, until the museum came back into view.
“You sure you don’t mind touring me around some more?”
“Course not,” Steven said, climbing the steps beside you, “It gets me more time with you, don’t it?”
You smiled, “I would’ve stuck around after lunch anyway if you’d wanted."
Steven's response faded as you stepped inside the lobby, his gaze landing on the information desk where Donna was speaking to a woman in a nice-looking blazer. As though she could sense Steven's presence, her gaze flicked up to him before trailing slowly down to your hand still clutched in his.
To her credit, she did a fair job of keeping her expression even, but you thought you saw a flicker of a grimace before she smiled, "Speak of the devil, here he is now!" She raised her hand in an uncharacteristically friendly wave, "Stevie, could you come over here a moment?"
Steven paled, "Oh god, what have I done now?"
You offered him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand, "Shall we go and find out?"
He seemed to relax a bit at the reminder of your touch, taking a deep breath and nodding. But as you approached, the woman in the blazer turned around, a pleasant smile on her face, "Mr. Grant, what perfect timing you've got." She offered him her hand, "My name is Daisy Caldwell, I sit on the museum board."
Steven looked absolutely petrified. You made to drop his hand, but he kept a tight hold on you and he hesitantly accepted the handshake with his thankfully-free right hand, "Hello, nice to meet you. You can call me Steven if you like." His response was good, aside from the faint tremble in his voice.
Daisy either didn't notice or didn't mind, "Lovely to meet you, Steven. Sorry to bother you on your free day, but do you have a spare moment?"
He glanced at you, a bit panicked, but you gave him an encouraging smile. He cleared his throat, "Sure- I mean, of course."
Daisy beamed, "Fantastic! Donna, might we borrow your office for a few minutes?"
Donna nodded quickly, "Absolutely, not a problem." You'd never seen her quite so tame before; it was oddly satisfying to see Donna sucking up to her own boss.
This time you did release Steven's hand, trailing your fingers over his until they slid off, "Meet you in the west wing in a bit then?"
He sent a nervous glance at Daisy, who'd stepped aside to give you two a moment, "Yeah, sounds good."
You wanted to cup his face in your hands and tell him not to worry, but you just smiled, "I’ll be waiting.”
You headed off toward the west wing of the museum and Steven followed Daisy in the opposite direction. You spared only idle glances at the museum’s displays; they weren’t half as interesting without Steven beside them, waving his hands around.
You hoped he wasn’t in trouble. After all, you’d been making him slip a little bit in his performance. But you couldn’t fathom why they would send one of the board members to reprimand him; Donna was perfectly capable of doing that.
It was maybe ten minutes of nervous pacing before Steven returned. To your surprise, Daisy was trailing behind him. She paused, hovering in the doorway while Steven crossed the room in long strides, his face alight with excitement. As he reached you, your question faded to nothing on your tongue as he wrapped his arms around you in a hug.
This was different from when you’d hugged him earlier. He wasn’t trying to keep his arms from being too heavy around you or afraid to squeeze you too tightly. His arms just circled around your waist and pulled you in, his hands coming up between your shoulder blades to hold you close to him.
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as you hugged him back, your worries temporarily forgotten as you noticed how warm he was. Too soon, it was over and he released you, keeping his grip only on your shoulders while he leaned in close to whisper urgently, “They saw the reviews. She came here to offer me an interview for a tour guide.”
“Steven, that’s incredible!”
He nodded, grinning from ear to ear, “Yeah, I think it’s going pretty well- I answered all of her questions.”
“Going? As in still?”
He paused, like he suddenly remembered why he’d come rushing in, “Yeah- right- she wanted to see a bit of the tour for herself.” He slid his hands down over your arms to clutch your hands in his, “But only if you don’t mind. We are on a date after all-”
“Of course I don’t mind, Steven! This is your dream job, what are you waiting for?” You shooed him off in her direction, in complete disbelief that he would risk messing up his interview for your date.
He allowed you to push him in her direction, but he paused, spinning around to face you again with a soft smile on his lips, “You’re the greatest, you know that, love?”
You felt your own lips twitch, “Tell me about it after your interview.”
Steven laughed, a giddy kind of laugh that seemed to catch even him off guard; you hadn’t ever seen him so excited. Which was saying something because he was often excited. It was oddly endearing- the way he overflowed with energy, with dumbfounded disbelief at what he likely thought was good fortune. You would argue it was simply karmic balance; Steven was good, therefore he deserved to have good things happen to him.
He would never believe it, of course. Steven seemed to have the belief that he did not deserve the things he wanted in life- at least, based on his reaction to good things happening to him. Which was probably why he’d insisted his gift shop position wasn’t so bad; he’d come to expect the disappointing- the unfair. So in turn, every time something good happened to him, he was ecstatic because he truly hadn’t expected it. He didn’t expect anything. He seemed to continually pour himself into everything- his positivity, his enthusiasm, his honesty- he offered it all up to everyone around him and expected nothing in return. And that wasn’t going to stand with you.
As you watched him politely invite Daisy to join you on the tour, you decided you wanted to fix that. You didn’t want Steven to accept so little when he deserved more.
“Thanks for letting me join you,” Daisy said as she and Steven approached. “I’m so sorry to intrude-”
“It’s no problem, really,” you insisted.
Steven glanced at Daisy before smiling at you, “She’s the one who left the first review after all.”
Daisy chuckled, “I had a feeling.”
Steven beamed, clapping his hands together, “Shall we get started then?”
Admittedly, it wasn’t the ideal time for an interview; you wanted Steven to yourself today. But once he started the tour, you realized you didn’t need to worry. He made an effort to include Daisy- and others, once your little group began to accumulate- in the experience. But even if he wasn’t able to give you his full attention like he usually did, his eyes always returned to you at the end. After each explanation, his gaze returned to your face like that was his resting point.
And he was doing so well; his pacing was flawless and his delivery was downright smooth. You felt an unjustified sense of pride, watching him explain ancient Egyptian battle tactics like they were the rules to checkers. But then he looked to you, faltering mid-explanation and then you realized you were smiling like an idiot watching him speak.
Steven chuckled, “Sorry all- pretty girl- lost my train of thought, didn’t I?”
Your cheeks warmed and you mouthed an apology to Steven before he started back up again, trying to keep your expression in check.
An hour into the tour, Daisy motioned Steven to the side. You gave him a subtle thumbs up as he followed her over by some display cases filled with pottery, trying not to stare. Steven’s back was to you anyway; without his facial expressions to clue you in, you were completely in the dark. But she had to be offering him the position, he’d done an amazing job.
You stole another glance just as Daisy held her hand out to him. You chewed nervously on your lip, watching him shake her hand. He remained still until she’d walked away, but you were already halfway there.
“Well?” You clasped your hands together in a silent plea, trying to get a bead on his expression. His lips were parted, eyes wide with surprise; but it was unclear whether it was good or bad.
“She offered me the position.” His gaze lifted to yours and you were surprised to find his eyes glassy, “I’m gonna be a tour guide.”
“Steven, that’s amazing!” You shrunk slightly under the glances from other museum patrons, but you were positively bubbling, “I’m so happy for you- it’s well deserved!”
“Well it’s all because of you, isn’t it?” He folded you into another tight hug, “You’re bloody incredible!”
Your laugh was muffled slightly by his shoulder, “I didn’t do anything; that was all you!”
He pulled you back just as quickly as he’d pulled you in, “You left that review-”
“I wouldn’t have left such a nice review if you hadn’t done such a good job,” you smirked.
“You got the others to do it too,” he pointed out.
“Okay, that I did because I liked you,” you admitted. “But I didn’t ask them to lie; they said those nice things about you because they believed them.”
“I wouldn’t have even been giving tours if not for you,” he insisted.
You reached up to cup his cheeks between your hands, firmly meeting his gaze, “Steven, you deserve this. You earned it.”
His cheeks warmed under your touch and his gaze flicked away, his tongue poking out to wet his lips, “Right.” He swallowed thickly before hugging you again, his movements slow and deliberate.
“What’s that for?”
“I’m really glad I met you,” he mustered, sounding a bit off. You waited for the follow up that was clearly lingering, “And I really wanted to kiss you just now.” He did sound a bit flustered.
You pulled back just a little bit, still in his grasp but you could see his face, “Why didn’t you then?”
His face glowed a brighter shade of rose, “Well I wanna treat you right, yeah? Don’t want to rush and all.”
You couldn’t help it- the way your eyes drifted to his lips. You guiltily met his gaze again, “Yeah, alright. That makes sense.” You touched your forehead to his, biting your lip; you had to remember, no rushing Steven.
“Come on now, love, you’re not making this easy on me,” he breathed, closing his eyes in hopes that not looking at you might make it easier.
“Sorry.” You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I’m glad I met you too, Steven. And I’m really happy for you.” You heard his breath catch when your lips touched his skin; it was almost intoxicating to think you had so much of an effect on him.
Looking rather warm, Steven finally released you, suddenly remembering his promotion. He offered you a guilty smile; between Marc adamantly demanding that Steven kiss you and the way you bit your lip while your eyelashes fluttered, he’d almost missed his chance to court you the proper way.
He glanced at his watch, “So, do you want to finish the tour then?”
“Definitely- we need to finish mine before you start giving them to just anyone,” you teased.
He gave an exasperated smile, “Yours is special, innit?”
You took a half a step forward, “You say that now, but I’d bet tour guides see lots of pretty girls.”
He chuckled as you slipped your hands into his, “Maybe they do, but it don’t matter, does it? I’ve already seen the prettiest girl who’s ever gonna walk in this museum. Or any museum. Or anywhere, really.”
Heat rushed to your face and you leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder, “Steven, you can’t say stuff like that to me.”
“Well why not?” He couldn’t stop the hand that came up to hold your arm.
“Don’t you remember? You said you’d be honest with me.”
“If that’s all, then I can say it just fine because it’s true,” he argued.
“Steven-”
“And if I’m being completely honest, if you stay close much longer I’m going to lose my resolve and then I’ll be a bit upset with myself-”
“Right, sorry,” you backed up, hoping your face wasn’t still too flushed.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He held out his hand, “Ready?”
Slipping your hand into his, you followed him back to the display you’d left off on. Before he could start, you piped up, “I didn’t mention, but you were amazing today. If you were nervous, I couldn’t tell at all.”
He shuffled his feet a bit, looking pleased, “I wasn’t really nervous, to tell you the truth.”
You grinned, “Steven, your hands were trembling when you introduced yourself to Daisy. How were you not nervous?”
“I just acted like it was one of our tours- just you and me.” He shrugged, “I only had to look around a bit more than usual.”
You dropped his hand and moved a few steps away, “And you want me not to kiss you? Unbelievable. The nerve, honestly.”
Steven laughed, “Just trust me, love.” And strangely, you did. You’d barely known Steven for a couple of weeks, but he already felt like comfort to you. Safe. You smiled.
He suddenly grinned, “Do you think she’s told Donna yet?”
You laughed at Steven’s reaction, “She’s going to be so mad.”
“Well, I’m board-appointed now, so best of luck to her if she wants to bin me.”
You smiled; his newfound confidence was very cute. Although his face did fall slightly when he reached for your hand and you dodged him. You quickly explained, “Not that I don’t want to hold your hand- I do, very much. But I, uh- I like watching you talk.”
Your smile betrayed your embarrassment, but Steven didn’t seem to pick up on it, “You like watching me talk?”
You raised your hands and moved them a bit, “You talk with your hands.” You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile; you weren’t trying to tease him. Not really.
“Do I?” he chuckled, “Guess I never really thought about it then. You like that?” You nodded, a small smile breaking through your defenses. “Guess we should start then, yeah?”
You nodded again, “Yeah.”
You worried for a moment he might be self-conscious, but it only lasted a minute. Once he got going, his hands went back to their usual energetic state, although he kept brushing your hand with his, much like you’d done earlier. Finally, his knuckles brushed against yours again and you captured his hand in yours.
He broke, mid-thought, glancing your way, but you just smiled at him, “I’ll just hang onto this one. Please continue.” He grinned, but he continued talking, moving through the exhibits while you stayed close to his side.
Finally, he came to a halt in front of the final display, “This is it, love. Last bit.”
You chewed your lip, “Is it weird that I don’t want to finish now?”
“You don’t want it to be over either, do you?” He spoke softly, like he couldn’t quite believe it.
You laughed, “Well aren’t we a couple of sentimental fools?”
“I think it’s sort of romantic.”
“It can be two things,” you half-smiled. Steven tilted his head, pensive for a moment; he’d heard that somewhere recently. “Well, if you ever want to end things with me, you can just tell me you want to finish the tour. I’ll definitely take the hint.”
He glanced at the display, “It’s not really all that interesting anyway.”
“I don’t believe for one second you don’t find whatever is in this case interesting, Steven Grant.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted. “I thought it might make you feel better about not knowing.”
“What a gentleman.”
“Aren’t I?”
You laughed, reaching up to straighten his collar, “You certainly are.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, “You’re awful close again, love.”
You only hummed, brushing the edge of your finger over the underside of his chin so he would tip his chin up. He complied, slowly looking up and taking a deep breath as you adjusted the fabric carefully.
Once you were finished, you stepped back, offering him an innocent smile, “Your collar was crooked. A gentleman can’t’ have a crooked collar when he gets invited to dinner.”
It took a second for the message to get through, “You want to have dinner?”
“I thought we could celebrate your promotion and I’ve been having a nice time-”
“I’d love to. I’d really love to.”
You beamed, “Great. Where do you recommend we go?”
“Is there anywhere you like?” He actually did have somewhere in mind, but he’d chosen for lunch.
“There’s this one place I went to with Dalton and Mandy when I first arrived. But I’m not sure if they have a vegan menu.”
“I’m sure they’ve got salad or bread or something-”
“Steven,” you gave him an exasperated look, “I can look online to see if they have anything. You’re not having just salad and bread for your celebratory meal.” Before he could argue, you’d pulled out your phone and were looking up the menu.
Steven watched you, a faint smile on his face. He was feeling very lucky. And there was this little voice in the back of his mind, urging him to kiss you- one he was certain wasn’t Marc.
You sighed, “Not much luck. You sure you don’t know anywhere good?” You glanced up at him, catching him staring, “What? Are you upset I won’t let you eat salad and bread for dinner, because-”
“No, no,” he laughed, “I do know a place.”
Fifteen minutes later, you walked into a little restaurant a couple of blocks away. The sun was just dipping below the horizon,casting orange light through the door when the pair of you stepped inside. It wasn’t quite as cute on the inside as the little cafe you’d gone to for lunch, but it was clean and everything looked well cared for.
“Two tonight, Steven?” The woman at the hostess station was maybe in her forties, dressed in a simple, black dress. She looked rather pleased to see Steven here with a date.
Steven looked shy at the attention, but he nodded, “I know it’s a long shot, being Saturday night and all, but do you have my usual spot?”
“It just opened up, actually, so you’re in luck. Let me have someone clean up and I’ll take you over.”
“Thank you."
As she bustled away, you glanced curiously at Steven, “Are you a regular here?”
He nodded, “Best vegan pasta in the city, if you ask me. I’m in a few times a month, probably. That’s one of the owners, Deborah. Her husband, Nigel, does the cooking.” Chuckling, he admitted, “Not much of a cook, myself.”
You pictured Steven coming in here to eat by himself, a few times a month for god knows how long. He didn’t sound too distraught over it, but you couldn’t understand why the man had seemingly been alone for so long.
He squeezed your hand, “You alright? I can learn to cook-”
“No-” you laughed, “I’m great. Just happy to be here with you.”
That familiar rosy glow crept over his cheeks, “Oh- yeah- me too. I’m happy to be here with you too.”
Deborah returned, waving for the two of you to follow, “Alright, come on out with me.”
You glanced at Steven, “Out?”
He smiled, “You’ll see.”
You followed her through the center of the floor to the back door, where she pushed through and held the door open for you and Steven.
“You know the way, Steven, your server will be out in a minute.” You were dimly aware of Deborah speaking, but you didn’t really register the words; the patio led to the yard, where a few tables were spread out across the grassy landscape, lit by criss-crossing string lights. It was absolutely gorgeous.
Steven watched you pause as you stepped through the doorway, your eyes widening in wonder at the scene. He watched you gaze around, still clutching his hand and he felt himself smile.
Deborah nudged his shoulder, muttering, “Go and get her, yeah?”
He tore his gaze away from you only long enough to process what she’d said, his eyes snapping back to the little smile on your lips before nodding, swallowing a bit hard, “Yeah- yeah, I will.”
“Thatta boy.” She gave him a little shake before disappearing back inside.
Steven slipped his hand from yours, only to rest it on the small of your back, urging you off to one of the corners, “Come on, love, we’ll be over here.” You followed his direction, still gazing around at the lights, only now noticing the flowers around the perimeter of the lattice fence. “It’s quite nice, innit?”
You were already feeling a bit dysfunctional from the view and Steven’s palm pressed against your back had your head spinning, “Yeah.”
He pulled your chair out, guiding you into it before taking his own seat, “You like it then?” His head bobbed once like he was encouraging you to nod.
“I love it,” you agreed. “It’s,” you gazed around once more, “Gorgeous.”
Steven smiled, his gaze never touching the decor, “Yeah, sure is.”
The patio doors opened and the server, a rather pretty young woman dressed in black, swept over, brandishing a bottle of wine and two glasses. Steven looked confused, so you spoke up, “I’m sorry, we didn’t order any wine.”
The server smiled, “On the house, courtesy of Deb.”
Steven looked pleasantly surprised, nodding as the server motioned to uncork the bottle. Once the wine was poured, she looked to the two of you, "My name is Marie, I’ll be waiting on you tonight. I can give you the specials if you like."
"That’d be great, love." Alright, you were loving that less and less. It was how Steven spoke; you couldn't be so insecure that you asked him to change his dialect. But that didn't stop you from glancing down at the table, something Steven noticed.
Marie read off the specials for the evening and Steven smiled at her before ordering, making your heart twist. He's just polite, you reminded yourself. You were not going to do this.
"-madam?"
You roused yourself from your own head, "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Do you know what you'd like?" Damn. You should have been listening more carefully.
"I'll have what Steven is having," you rushed, embarrassed by your space out.
"Two vegan broccoli alfredos then?"
"Perfect, love." At Marc's urging, Steven said it again, watching for your reaction.
"See? She doesn't like it." Marc said inside Steven's head.
He'd been trying to keep quiet today- to let you two have a bit of privacy, but it was hard not to watch. Especially when Steven kept making mistakes and you never seemed to mind.
"If you're gonna call her 'love,' you can't keep using it for just anyone."
"It's how I talk, I'm not flirting with the waitress," Steven defended, trying to keep his gaze from flicking to Marc’s face on his wine glass.
"I'm just telling you how it is, Steven."
Once Marie had departed, Steven glanced at you, "Does it bother you when I call other people 'love'?"
Your head snapped up too quickly- he’d surprised you. You pressed your mouth into a thin smile, "That would be silly, wouldn't it? I've heard it a million times since I've been here."
"She's trying not to make a big deal out of it."
"Yes, I get it, Marc. Now please, with love, piss off for a bit. I've got this." Aloud, he tipped his head, "Well that's not what I asked though, is it?"
You wanted to tell him the truth- you really did. But you battled to keep your expression even. You weren't going to be that girl. "It's fine. I don't mind, Steven." Steven didn't look convinced, so you admitted, "I do like it when you call me that more than when other people do."
Steven took your hand across the table, "I like calling you that more than I do other people, as well. But if you like, I can stop- I could keep it just for you." That would be a difficult habit to break, but he would do it for you.
You wanted to agree. He was offering you exactly what you wanted. "You don't have to do that."
"Well, I'd do a lot for you that I didn't have to do, you know?" He squeezed your hand, "You can be honest with me."
"I actually do have something to tell you- two things."
Steven nodded, a bit of worry lining his face.
"Do you remember when I disappeared for a few days?"
"Course, I was afraid you hated my guts," he gave a weak chuckle.
"I told you I hadn't replied to you because my cousin had me visiting family, but that wasn't true. I was avoiding you- only a little- just to try to get over my crush on you." You grimaced, "The lie's been bothering me ever since."
Steven brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, "Sorry, if I hurt your feelings by accident. I can be a bit dense." He didn’t think it appropriate to comment on how giddy he was that you’d had a crush on him.
You offered a smile, "You didn't do anything wrong."
You were interrupted briefly by Maria's return with your drinks.
Steven waited for her to leave again, toying with the handle on his tea cup, "And the second thing?"
At that, you surprised him by smiling, "I have to confess something." He nodded, urging you to continue, but instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket, sliding it across the table, "Do you notice anything about it?"
"Your phone?" You nodded and Steven shook his head, looking a bit baffled.
"The screen, in particular."
"Well, it's not cracked anymore, so that's good," he offered passively, puzzling over what he was supposed to notice.
"Exactly. But this," you tapped on the screen, "Isn't the screen protector you got for me."
Comprehension dawned on Steven’s face, "It wasn't the right one, was it?"
You bit back a smile, "No."
"Well why didn't you mention it? I could've got the right one- and I was so pleased with myself-"
"I'm sorry, Steven," you chuckled, "I didn't have the heart to tell you. It was such a sweet gesture- I didn't want you to feel bad."
He heaved a sigh, "And then you had to go out and buy one anyway- gods, I'm such a-"
"Whatever you're about to say, if it's not the words 'complete and utter sweetheart,' you're off the mark." You put your phone back in your pocket.
Steven heaved a sigh, "Right. Well, I'm glad you told me that too."
"No more secrets going forward," you offered. "I'm an open book."
Steven felt a pang of guilt; there was one secret he couldn't tell you. And it was the kind of secret with a plethora of little secrets attached to it- a web of little confidential tidbits all rooted in the biggest secret of them all: Marc.
But he just nodded, "Does that mean I can ask again if you want me to stop calling other women 'love'?"
You sighed at your failed distraction, "It makes me a bit jealous, I'll admit. But I don't want you to stop on my behalf- you shouldn't have to make changes like that for my insecurities."
Steven was surprised at how mad you sounded at yourself. “Well, you can’t control how you feel, can you?”
“Steven, we’ve been together almost all day and you haven’t given me any reason to be jealous. This is a ‘me’ issue.”
“Maybe, but I might be able to help you fix it, yeah?” Steven almost felt like he was arguing with Marc again- trying to get him to open up. “What about if I use something else for you- something only for you? Would that be better?”
He was trying so hard; you felt bad for being so dodgy about it. So you nodded, “Sure.”
“Really?”
You smiled wryly, “I don’t want to be difficult, despite what it might seem like.”
“What should I use for you then?”
You chuckled, “I’m not sure it works that way. I think nicknames have to be given, not asked for.”
“Guess I’ll think about it then. Maybe try a few out,” he smiled. He actually seemed a bit excited about the prospect of picking a cute nickname for you, which made you feel better; you were being silly.
“As long as we’re being honest,” you couldn’t help your slight grin, “Did you iron your clothes to see me today?”
Steven looked chagrined, “Yeah, just a bit- I’m not much good at it, unfortunately.”
You squeezed his hand, “You did fine. You look nice.” You glanced down at your tee-shirt and jeans, “Next time give me a heads up when we’re going on a date though. I can dress a little nicer.”
He looked pleased at the compliment, though he leaned in quickly to correct you, “You look lovely, like always, sweetheart.”
You laughed at the hesitant tone he used for the term of endearment, “That’s not awful. And you’re very sweet. Though I will admit, I might have brought a jacket if I’d known we would be out so late, but I am the one who asked you to dinner, so-”
Steven’s eyes went wide, like he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that, “Oh, are you chilly, love? Oh, bugger, sorry. I meant-” he seemed to be grasping for something else to call you, his fingers tearing at his jacket until he had it off.
“Steven-”
He stood hastily, holding out his jacket to you, “Here you are, darling.”
You thought it best to comply, sliding your arms into the warm fabric that steeped you in the scent of Steven when he dropped it on your shoulders. It was a bit big on you, but in the exact way you’d want it to be. It was clearly not your jacket, but it was comfortable and warm and most importantly, it was Steven’s.
You turned to face him, tracing your finger over the hem of the sleeve, “I actually sort of like that one.”
His eyes drifted softly over the way his jacket clung to your frame; he’d never been so envious of a piece of clothing in his entire life, “Which one?”
You chuckled, biting your lip and Steven thought he might need to sit back down, “Darling. That sounds sort of nice.”
“Oh, right- of course, yeah,” he fumbled, gaze flicking to your hands, half masked by his sleeves.
You smiled, “Jacket look alright then?”
He nodded, “Looks good- really good. Better on you than on me.”
His breath caught as you took a step closer, your smile a bit coy, “Must look nice then, because I think you look very handsome when you wear it.”
Steven was saved the struggle of responding in a coherent sentence when Marie backed through the patio doors, two plates in hand. You both took your seats, though you were pleased to see that Steven looked a bit more flustered than you felt. After delivering your meals, Marie refilled your wine glass and discreetly disappeared.
Steven took a sip of his wine, his cheeks still rosy. When he stole a glance at you, you caught his eye, smiling playfully; you’d been teasing him again. He gestured to your glass, “What do you think?”
“Let me try again,” you raised the cup to your lips.
“It’s already cool, so you don’t need to blow on it, dear.”
You raised an eyebrow, lowering the cup, “Did you invite me to try it just so you could make fun of me?”
“I’d never do such a thing,” he protested, though he laughed as he said it.
You huffed and took a sip, avoiding meeting his eyes because you knew you would laugh. You set your glass down, finally meeting his eyes and sure enough, a laugh bubbled out of you. “Stop judging how I drink!”
“I’m not! I told you, I think it’s cute,” he grinned.
You picked up your fork, brandishing it at him threateningly, “I don’t want to hear any comments on how I eat my pasta.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”
You wrinkled your nose, “I’m not sure I like that one.”
He laughed, “Good because I don’t think it’s for me.”
You took a bite and hummed your approval, “This is great.”
“I told you, didn’t I?”
You nodded, “I can see why you’re a regular. I might need to be one too.” You took another eager bite.
“Maybe I could call you next time I plan to come,” he offered, still a bit hesitant, like he was expecting rejection.
You grinned, “Well you certainly can. But I hope you call me before then too. I’m already looking forward to our third date.”
Steven’s brow furrowed just like you’d hoped it would, “Third date? What happened to the second date?”
“We’re on it right now, aren’t we? You invited me to lunch, then we did a tour, which according to you, is definitely not a date,” you smirked. So that date ended and after the tour, I invited you to dinner, which is a new date.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works, since we’ve been together the whole time. Plus, it’s the same day so can it be a different date?”
“Valid points, but I still had to ask you to dinner. Two asks, two dates.”
He laughed, “Alright, alright, you’re right. I stand corrected; this is our second date.”
“Smart man,” Marc approved.
You grinned, “You catch on quick.”
“Well if I’m going to get another date, it seems smarter not to quibble about second or thirds, yeah?”
You pushed your plate aside, resting your chin on your knuckles, “You’ve got another date already, Steven. Quibble away.”
He gave his head a cursory shake, “I’m good, actually.”
Your reply faded away as a breeze cut through the courtyard. Steven braced for it, but he still trembled just a bit. You felt a wave of guilt, “Oh, I’m sorry-”
You stood and began working your way out of his jacket, but Steven just as quickly leapt up to still your hands, “No, no, you keep it. You need it more than I do.”
“Steven, it’s your jacket.”
“Not anymore- I gave it to you, didn’t I? No take backs, you know.”
You glared at him, but that didn’t wipe the cheeky grin from his face. “Fine. Sit down then.” You pushed him back toward his seat and tugged your chair around the table so it was next to his. Sitting down beside him, you looped your arm through his, nestling in close.
Steven felt his face warm- the way it always seemed to do when you were around. But he melted into your touch, resting his head on top of yours where it laid on his shoulder. You ran your hand over his forearm, ��Better?”
“Yeah- yeah, much better.”
You stayed there for a minute before speaking again, softly, “Steven?”
“Yes, love?” He didn’t seem to notice that he’d forgotten his new pet name and you didn’t call him on it.
“I know you didn’t want to rush, but since we’re technically on our second date-”
He lifted his head and your words fizzled, fear that you’d overstepped settling in. But when you stole a glance up at him, his gaze was dewy and soft.
His hand came up to cup your face as he dropped his mouth to yours. He was slow and cautious, seemingly oblivious to the way your lips didn't quite line up how they should.
Untangling one of your hands from where it was wrapped around his bicep, you cupped his chin, mumbling into his lips, "Can I show you?"
Face nearing a vibrant shade of magenta, Steven nodded, breaking his lips from yours and sinking his teeth into his plush lower lip, "Sorry."
You reached around to cup the back of his neck, "Don't be sorry. This means I get to show you what I like. Just follow me, alright?"
Pulling him closer, you took the lead, brushing your lips over his only a little bit, letting your noses graze each other while you toyed with the hair at the back of his neck. When your breath ghosted over his mouth, you could swear he whimpered a bit.
Finally capturing his lips with yours, you went slow, giving him time to follow. He picked up your rhythm quickly, his breathing rising to match as he returned the kiss with enthusiasm.
When you brushed your tongue over his top lip, he made a sound of surprise- albeit, pleasant surprise. But still, he broke away, still rather flushed and short of breath.
"Gotta catch my breath a minute.” He glanced at you, “How d’you do that?”
You laughed, “You’ll learn to breathe through your nose.”
“I can barely remember to breathe at all,” he muttered. “I swear, my brain just quit working.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You kept your arm looped through his.
“How was everything, you two?” Marie bustled back over and you froze; had she been waiting for a safe opportunity to approach the table? That was embarrassing.
Steven spoke up, friendly as ever, “Fantastic, as always.”
“Will you be having dessert?”
Steven glanced back at you, “What do you think, dearest?”
The pet name pulled a smile from you, despite your embarrassment, “We could do dessert.” Anything to stay with Steven for a bit longer. Plus, you couldn’t remember the last time you'd gotten dessert at a restaurant.
“We’ve got a fantastic chocolate cake as our vegan option tonight,” she offered.
Again, his gaze went to you, waiting for confirmation. “Sounds perfect.”
Her gaze flicked to the way you were still twined with Steven, “Will that be one or two then?”
You looked to Steven, fairly certain he hadn’t even looked away from you yet, “I think one is alright; we could share- what do you think?”
Steven felt his throat go a bit dry, but he nodded. Sure, he’d just kissed you, but sharing dessert was just as significant. His gaze lingered while you turned back to Marie, “One will be perfect.” He watched you smile pleasantly at Marie before she departed the table again, his gaze soft.
He cleared his throat, “So, you do like sweets then?”
“Yes, generally,” you chuckled. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“Steven,” you urged, “What happened to being honest?”
You were teasing him, but he still stammered a bit, “Right- yeah- you’re right then.” He glanced at his shoes, “ I actually got some gifts- you know, date stuff- chocolates and flowers- for you, but I chickened out on bringing them.”
“You didn’t need to be nervous-”
“Well, I thought you might say no and then what would I do with them? Or if you said yes, then you’d have to tote them around all day, so it was really a silly idea, but-”
“It was a lovely idea,” you countered. You brushed your fingers over his bicep, “You are, without a doubt, the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
Flustered, Steven spoke before he could think better of it, “If you like, we could nip back to mine- I’d like to give them to you proper.”
“Steven Grant, did you just invite me back to your place on our first date?”
Before Steven could defend himself, Marie returned with a single slice of cake on a plate. You’d expected her to bring the check with her as well, but she only set down the plate, “Will there be anything else?”
“Just the check, I think,” you squeezed Steven’s arm, hoping it would let him know you were only teasing him.
Marie smiled, “It’s already taken care of; you’re all set once you’ve finished your dessert. You two have a good rest of your evening.”
You felt your brow crease, gaze snapping to Steven, who looked a bit sheepish, “Steven- you didn’t!”
“Well I couldn’t let you foot the bill for our dinner, could I?”
“Why couldn’t you? I asked you to dinner. Here,” you finally untwisted your arm from his to dig out your wallet, pressing a note into his hand.
Steven shook his head, “It’s already paid for, love.” Surprisingly, he didn’t rise to your energy level; his voice was soft and he gently put the money back in your hand, closing your fingers around it and resting his hand over your closed fist.
You wanted to argue, to make him take your money, but the pleading look in his eye told you he genuinely wanted to do this- not that he was putting on a show for your benefit. You sighed, but firmly met his gaze, “Next time, I’m paying. I mean it.”
He nodded, “Of course, sure- whatever you want.” He tipped his head at the slice of cake sitting enticingly on the plate in front of you, “Shall we then?”
You stifled another sigh; you’d only agreed to dessert because you’d thought you were footing the bill.
“Oh god, have I ruined your appetite then? I’m sorry for being so sneaky, I thought it was a bit romantic is all,” Steven fussed.
Taking pity on him, you admitted, “It is a bit.” You were quick to add, “But not every time.”
"Right." He nodded, clearly eager to get back into easier territory, "This one is special, after all."
You brushed your hand over his knee, “I wanna treat you like you deserve too, okay?”
He could only manage a thick swallow around the lump in his throat and a faint nod. You were too good to be true. He was almost afraid he'd imagined the whole thing up. And maybe before Marc, he might've been lonely enough to actually do that, but not now. No- he was fairly certain you were for real. And you seemed to like him as much as he did you, which was something he hadn’t really thought possible.
“Alright then,” you picked up your fork, “Together then?” Steven wasn’t about to tell you that he’d had the chocolate cake before, so he nodded, readying his own fork and following your lead as you speared a bit. “On three; one, two, three.”
But Steven didn’t go on three. His fork hovered in the air as your eyes fluttered shut, lips closing around your fork before curving into a partial smile, a slight hum breaking through. He wondered if you’d taste like chocolate if he kissed you again. Then he remembered he was supposed to be trying it with you, so he hastily shoved his fork in his mouth as you lifted your gaze to his.
You paused, like you were considering, “Pretty good. What do you think?”
“Good- great,” he nodded, hoping he didn’t look too suspect. He didn’t want you to think he was creepy.
You both made short work of the cake and you linked your arm with Steven’s on your way out of the restaurant, “So, back to yours then?”
#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#moon knight x reader#steven grant fanfic#steven grant fic#steven grant fluff#moon knight fluff#phases of the moon series
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Both Eddie and Hop tapping both their big cocks on readers tongue
that's hot !!
"Eddie! I told you this was a dumb idea." You were bouncing in your seat as you watched the red white and blue lights flash behind the van in the front mirror.
"Well you're the one that did that!" Eddie pulled over on the side of the road.
"You dared me ! And you said and I quote "if you don't moon the next car, I won't finger you tonight!" And you know that's not fair eddie !" You crossed your arms over your tank top .
"But not a cop car you dummy!" Eddie sighed as the trooper showed up at his window. Luckily you were in good with Jim Hopper.
"Shocking that it's you two again." Hopper scoffed as he leaned on the window. "Putting on quiet the show today aren't we darling ?" Jim lifted his sunglasses at you and gave you a wink.
"Ya know she's till my girl hopper!" Eddie cleared his throat.
"So am I in trouble officer ?" You batted your eyelashes at Jim before he laughed .
"Nice try, out of the car... both of ya!" Jim pointed his finger at the two of you making you two unbuckle and stand on the side of the van. You held Eddie's hand tightly before Jim walked around and stood in front of the two of you. "Hands on the van, back side to me." Jim had you turn around. He walked up behind you and lifted up your skirt. He whistled at you as Eddie grinned.
"Hopper!" Eddie placed his hand on Jim's shoulder. "Let's make a deal, she sucks our cocks and we get out of this whole thing without a ticket because let's be fair.... she's got a nice ass!" Eddie gave you slight spank making it jiggle and Jim drool.
"Ya heard your man darling, on your knees!" Jim spun you around and you got on your knees before flipping your hair over your shoulder and opening your mouth.
"Eager little slut aren't you baby?" Eddie stroked your hair as both men unzipped their pants and pulled out their cocks. You let out a whine and stuck out your tongue.
"Fuck she's hot!" Jim huffed before he pumped his cock. Eddie wasted no time and started rubbing the head of his cock against your tongue. Only second later Hopper did the same. Both of them started tapping their dicks against your tongue making you giggle. You smiled as best as you could before you wrapped your lips around both of their heads. Eddie's hand pulled your hair as you sucked their dicks hungrily. Drool was dripping down your chin as both men groaned above you while their cocks disappeared down your throat. Your eyes were stinging with tears as they stretched your mouth.
"Baby, give hopper extra attention!" Eddie pulled his cock out as hopper took up your whole mouth. You took his dick as far as you gagging around it making sure to pump the rest of the shaft while your other hand reached over to play with Eddie's balls. "God you're amazing." Eddie moaned as you were busy sucking hopper off on the side of his van.
"Shit yeah she is!" Jim couldn't hold back and held your pretty face in his hands as he thrusted in and out of you at a faster pace because he couldn't hold back anymore. "She's going to swallow every drop too!" Jim grunted like a beast before he shot his load down your throat. He held you in position until you swallowed every drop of it. You sighed and opened your mouth to show it was empty. "Good girl baby." Eddie kissed your head as Hopper cleaned himself up and smoothed himself.
"You better finish soon son, your balls are looking a bit tight there ." Jim watched as you put Eddie's cock back in your mouth and worked him over but it didn't take much before he was cumming down your throat. Jim placed his hand on Eddie's shoulder.
"Don't let that one go and next time I catch you do doing something dumb.... this will be our new agreement... got it?" Eddie nodded quickly before getting himself back to normal .
"Bye Mr.Hopper!" You waved as you stood up and brushed yourself off before he gave you and Eddie a soft smile and two finger salute .
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Chapter Two
It feels cliched, like something from a film about a character working in some business firm, but I’m getting coffee for everyone at Mezzotint, the print studio where I am doing my internship. The studio, located above a little craft shop, opens right out onto a quaint street in Stoneybatter.
It’s up and coming around here, that’s what they call it when they don’t want to admit to its gentrification, and the café that the staff frequents is one of those hipster places where there isn’t any room to sit. The exotic hanging plants in the window form a lush curtain where you can peer inside and see the moustachioed barista at work underneath a wall of interesting looking coffee paraphernalia.
This café is so close to the Luas line that you can hear the ding ding and swish of the tram as it passes every two minutes or so; Tallaght to The Point, Saggart to Connolly Station, over and over and over again. Each day is accompanied by the music of the city. It seeps in through the windows of this café and of our little studio across the road from it in a way that makes me feel like this little street in North Dublin, and I by extension, are woven inextricably into the fabric of the city.
Everyone likes to pretend that September is the autumn, and even though the leaves are a little bit rusty and the waters a little choppier, the temperature is still warm enough to walk around without a coat in the afternoons. This is something seasonless that can’t decide what it wants to be yet, caught between one moment and the next. A warm breeze licks across my arms as I cross over to Mezzotint with five complicated coffee orders and a paper bag of pastries, pausing to let a woman with flowers in the basket of her bicycle pass me by.
I pass through the shop first, where Petra is placing a new batch of little ceramic bud vases on a shelf, and I give her her mocha and pan au chocolat. “I like those.” I tell her, and she nods, subtly rearranging the vases and confesses that she’s already bought one. She spends way too much of the money she earns from working at this shop buying things in it, but I get it. I’d be buying stuff too if they were paying me. I head up the stairs to the studio above.
“Aw, thanks chicken.” Izzy, one of the printmakers, takes a coffee out of the holder marked with the letters FWAL on the top. I have learned it stands for Flat White, Almond Milk. It’s only half nine in the morning, and she’s already stuck into her work, the tips of her fingers blackened like burned matches from the ink. She doesn’t eat anything in the mornings because it makes her feel sick, but she’ll have her slightly softened croissant at eleven, I leave it in the bag for her.
I bring a vanilla soy latte and a maple pecan twist to Gabriel who peers up at me impishly over his small, round glasses. “You look very nice today.” He says, and I grin. “So do you, but you look nice every day.”
“Stop.” He grins coquettishly and lifts the lid off his coffee to sniff it. “This is soy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah of course.”
“Good.” He takes a cautionary sip. “Because I’ll know all about it in about fifteen minutes if it isn’t. You’ll all know about it too.”
“Yeah we definitely will too.” Izzy groans. “Remember that time they gave you whole cows milk?”
“I will never forget.” He says solemnly.
“Yeah, no, me neither.”
I go over to the back of the studio to give Simon his flat white with oat milk. He told me he was vegan within an hour of meeting me, and I told him I’d actually never met a real vegan before, so it was an honour. It was supposed to be funny but if he thought it was he didn’t show it.
He’s sitting hunched over an angled desk with a blade, digging grooves into a block of wood. This is what he does, this old style wood block printing, but it’s always got a contemporary twist to it. Like today, he’s working on a scene in a dark lake, ripples swell behind a woman with long black hair who’s naked, submerged up to her waist and looking up at the full moon.
“Do you like it?” He asks me as I leave his coffee on the table next to him.
“Yeah it’s really cool.”
He leans back to look, and quickly blows some of the loose curls of shaven wood out of the carved areas. “I like it as well, I think. It has something.”
“Who is it?”
“My girlfriend. It’s always my girlfriend. She’s my muse.”
He’s a very particular type of artsy-intense like that, like he doesn’t think it’s weird to call someone your ‘muse’ in a non-ironic way. “Oh right.” I say. I start turning away to head towards a pile of paper and tools in Gabriel’s corner of the studio, the same ones I’ve been trying to organise all week, but he calls me back over to him. “Yeah, Simon?”
“I’m thinking we should get a start on Christmas cards for the shop.”
“But it’s September.”
“Yes but it takes ages to get everything sorted and printed. It’s best we start designing in the autumn.”
“Oh, alright.”
“So…” He sits up and twirls the blade around his fingers in way that makes me nervous for his precious hands. He doesn’t look at me that much, including now. He’s still examining his work. “You’re doing a degree in illustration.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Could you draw up some designs? I don’t have time.”
I start to get flustered. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t really know what kinds of things to do.”
“Well, we don’t usually go for traditional type things in the shop, so if you can think of something that’s Christmassy but also, like, bright and modern and fun, that’d be unreal.”
“Mhm.”
“Do you have a portfolio?”
“Not really, just sketchbooks.”
“You’ve not done any kind of client work or anything?”
“Only a shop window.” I clear my throat awkwardly, unsure if I even want to admit to the work I did in Tullamore. “I did some window typography for a cafe during the summer.”
“You like typography?”
“Yeah it’s cool.” I shrug. “But I’d say I’m not very good at it.”
Simon’s mouth twitches up into as much of a smile as he appears to be capable of. “Why don’t you give something a lash for me, just see if you can come up with some fun Christmas card ideas that might incorporate interesting lettering. I don’t know.” He hunches back over his work so I know we’re finished discussing this. “Anything you want, Evie. I’m giving you full creative control, as long as it has a vibe.”
Full creative control is as terrifying as a blank page. I give him an almost inaudible “Okay” and go over to an empty table with a stack of paper to start trying to figure something out. What does that mean, anyway? A ‘vibe’? I sigh and start scribbling something down.
I work through the morning and halfway into lunch, only realising it is when I surface from the haze of my creative flow to find everybody else gone. I fish around in my bag for the sad sandwich I prepared that morning and then get right back to work. I like it. I have no idea what I’m doing but I like doing it anyway. Sometimes when I get like this I wish that I didn’t have to eat or sleep or use the bathroom, like, I wish my body was a machine that could keep on drawing infinitely, churning out more and more work without the interruptions of my body’s needs.
Eventually the others come back and the sounds of press cranking and plate carving resume, and I am engrossed in what I’m doing. Gabriel passes behind me at some point and gives a little ‘hm’ of approval. “I like your lettering.” He says. “Thanks.” I say.
I only realise the whole day has passed me by when a soft voice from the corner of the room pipes up. “Pub?” Simon cranes his neck like a submarine periscope and glances around the room at us. Without looking up, Gabriel says “Pub.”
“Pub.” Izzy agrees.
I glance at the clock. It’s five already, and I feel like I’ve only just got into the swing of my card design. It kind of pains me that I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get stuck back into it again. I haven’t even started thinking about colours yet.
Izzy tosses a balled up piece of scrap paper onto my table. “Hey, Evie.” She says. “Tools down. Pub?”
“Oh.” I say. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. We’re just heading across into Smithfield for a pint or two. Look outside. The sun is absolutely belting down.”
“We won’t get many more evenings like this.” Simon adds. “It’d be a waste not to come.”
“I suppose I’m not doing anything anyway.” I’m never doing anything, ever. “I can come for a while.”
“Unreal.” Izzy says, and I reluctantly relinquish my coloured pencils and then within five minutes the studio is closed down and the lights are off.
“I’ll join you in a while.” Petra says as we lock up the studio door. “I’ll just do the cash register and then pop down.” We tell her that we’ll see her there and head out onto the street.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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Sibling Issues
Hi everyone! This is a oneshot I wrote over TWO years ago. Kinda crazy, but here we are. I wanna start moving some oneshots over here to tumblr, but if you’d like to read more, check out my Wattpad :)
Anyway, Enjoy!
-
Xisuma sat on the edge of his storage tower, just as the sun began to descend over the jungle. The dusty orange glow of the horizon caused the leaves to gleam in the sunset. With the wind brushing through his chestnut hair, the admin took in a deep breath of fresh air. His helmet sat on his lap, allowing X to breathe freely.
Hermitcraft season seven had come to its end. Xisuma had let the hermits head to season eight, while he stayed behind to wrap everything up. The quiet was nice, to take a few moments to enjoy the peacefulness of the empty server. No pranking or firework rockets in the distance, the only sound was the rustling of the leaves that shook with the wind.
Xisuma watched silently as the sun slowly crossed over the horizon, the sky turning dark as the moon began to take its place in the sky. Stars twinkled above, gleaming down on the quiet little server. The admin shut his eyes, feeling the wind against his face, the gentle breeze brushing against his cheeks.
"Alright Xisuma. Enough wasting time. Get back to work." The Brit spoke to himself with a heavy sigh, placing his helmet over his head as he got to his feet.
The admin snapped his fingers together, a purple screen appearing before him. Xisuma typed away at the keyboard, hesitating as his hand hovered over the 'enter' key. This could risk everything that he had worked for. The identity that he had built, the life that he had created from scratch, it all could come crumbling to the ground if something went wrong.
"This needs to be done," Xisuma said to himself, trying to reassure his decision, although he didn't sound saddened or hesitant, even as he continued to speak. "I can't just leave him in the void. I never should have banned him to begin with."
He quickly pressed the 'enter' key on the screen, and within moments, Xisuma had spotted the chat message popping up.
<EvilXisuma joined the game>
Typing in another command, Xisuma hit enter once again, his brother suddenly teleporting right in front of the admin. Ex was stunned at the unfamiliar method of travel, dazed after returning from the void. It had been so long in the silence, the cold, empty, darkness that he had been locked away in.
Ex ripped off his helmet, dropping to his knees as he gasped for fresh air. He had breathed in the air of the void for so long that it burned his lungs to breathe the air of the overworld, but the evil hermit didn't care. It felt so fresh and warm, it was the greatest thing that Ex had felt in months.
He looked up at his brother, Ex still breathing heavily as his eyes flashed with burning hatred. There were deep scars across the Brit's face, much worse than the marks across Xisuma's face. The cuts and slashes were covering the majority of his face.
"Why...why am I here..?" Ex panted, his eyes trailing to the ground, unable to meet the steely glare of his brother. Xisuma smiled.
"I couldn't leave you there."
His brother laughed at that. "Oh, you couldn't leave me there? Well, you took EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME!" Ex snapped with his eyes looking up from the ground, the fire in his glare quickly burning out as he looked back to the safety of the ground.
"It would have been better if you had just left me there." He muttered underneath his breath, Ex placing his helmet over his head and adjusting it with a scowl across his face.
"I know," Xisuma said, staring down at his helpless brother. "But you also know I couldn't do that."
The two were silent for a couple moments, neither attempting to lock eyes with one another. After what felt like an eternity, Ex finally spoke up.
"W-...what season is it..? Last I remember, I was in season six, then I was suddenly back in the void."
"It's going to be season eight soon enough," Xisuma explained, "we just finished season seven. You and I are currently in my season seven base."
Ex smiled cruelly. "So, you're letting me join season eight?" He asked jokingly, Xisuma letting out a weak chuckle in response, his eyes narrowing.
"You'd tear everything apart. I can't let you do that."
"What? Just because you don't want the hermits to know the truth about you?" Ex asked tauntingly, his tone mocking the admin. Xisuma pulled out his blade, he and his brother locked eyes with one another. Ex grinned at this.
"There he is. There's the Xisuma that I know.." he said with a flat chuckle, Ex's words causing him to be met by the tip of his brother's sword.
"You don't know me at all." Xisuma growled, Ex audibly laughing.
"I know you better than any of the hermits ever could. I know the real you. You, Xisumavoid, are a heartless, cruel, monster. You kill anyone who figures out who you really are, just like how you killed Python and Biffa, along with anyone else who stood in your way."
Xisuma grinned, dragging the sword across his brother's neck. "They were the smart ones. But everyone else is too dense to realize. They all think that I'm just a derp, that I'm just 'good old Xisuma'. And they'll never think any differently of me."
Ex cussed underneath his breath, knowing that it was true. Although, the cussing turned into quiet laughter underneath his breath. The evil hermit smiled at his brother.
"So you're going to kill me? So no one will know?"
Xisuma smiled. "You know me so well, brother."
"Then, let me at least ask one question."
Xisuma thought for a moment, but he slowly nodded in agreement. Ex looked up at the admin, his eyes no longer filled with hatred, but with sorrow.
"Do you regret it? Any of it?” His brother asked earnestly, eyes filled with what seemed to be pleading.
“You stole the life that I was going to have,” He went on. “And you put me in the void while you ran off to join hermitcraft. I could have come along, I could have had something more than this worthless life in the void!”
X rolled his eyes, slightly raising his blade, but his brother persisted and he continued.
Ex stood up and stepped closer, almost taunting his sibling. The pleading gaze changed, shifted to a cold, yet burning determination. “But instead, you discard me while constantly lying to the people you called your friends! You gave me all these scars and made me this way! So tell me, brother, do you regret any of it?! From ruining my life to killing those hermits you called your friends?!"
Xisuma thought for a moment, then slowly, yet reluctantly nodded. "I do. I do regret one thing..." he said, lowering his sword away from his brother's neck.
Ex could barely react as the sword was shoved through his chest, Xisuma's face practically glowing with insane joy as a crazed grin spread across his face. Blood trickled down the netherite blade, dripping off the sword and into a small puddle on the ground.
"I regret not getting rid of you sooner."
Ex chuckled drowsily at that, it was clear he was beginning to lose consciousness. Xisuma pulled his blade out of his brother's chest, causing Ex to fall to the ground. He looked past the admin, looking out at the jungle, a weak smile coming across his face.
"T...the one thing I wanted to see while I was in the void...more than anything…” He began to cough and choke, blood running up his throat and spewing out his mouth as he tried to speak. “—was the sun..nice to see you w-waited just s-so I couldn't get the thing I wanted m-most.."
"Quit whining." Xisuma growled as he stabbed his sword into Ex's side, pulling out the blade once his brother had stopped breathing. A warm puddle of crimson blood surrounded the body, the admin dropping his weapon beside his dead sibling.
"I never really did like you. You were nothing more than a nuisance if you ask me." Xisuma said carelessly, shrugging it off as if Ex had meant less than nothing to him.
"Messing with you, the hermits, anyone really, all of this is more fun than you could ever imagine, Ex." Xisuma said, speaking to his brother as if he were still alive.
"The rush of killing, it's incredible. You wouldn't know. You were nice compared to what I've done, and that's why you're dead.” He said, dragging his gloved finger through the warm blood on the edge of his blade.
“This is all a game, and you just couldn't figure out how to play it right."
—
Xisuma stepped into spawn, the other hermits waving at him. They had been waiting for the admin before starting the new season. The large group of hermits all smiled and greeted him, unaware of what he had just done. Xisuma grinned and acted like his 'regular' old self.
The season started and all the hermits ran off to gather materials. Keralis had joined Xisuma in a small group with a few other hermits, gathering wood and stone to start. He noticed X joining the server, waving happily before coming up to the admin when everyone else was out of earshot.
"What took you so long, Shiswami? I almost thought you weren't coming!" He laughed, smiling at the admin. Xisuma chuckled, his smile sweet and his voice calm.
"Oh, you know, just sibling issues."
#hermitcraft#hermitcraft fandom#hermitcraft fanfic#hermitweirdo writes#hermitcraft au#xisumavoid#hermitcraft xisuma#evil xisuma#oneshot#hermitcraft angst#hermitcraft oneshots
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The Curse of Blue
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction from the @bloodlegacies universe. My MC is Bianca Norse. Please go and check out Blood Legacies Interactive fiction.
Warning: Depression, suicide thoughts, loss
Pairing: Hayden Elkar x MC
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I hate the color blue.
That was one of the many thoughts that went through Bianca's head as she stared at herself in the mirror, the servant's nibbled fingers buttoning dark blue linen fabric. The servant took no note of Bianca, although even if they had, they wouldn't see anything other than a stoic expression etched across her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. Back straight. Shoulders back. More like a soilder getting ready for battle than a noble trying on a gown.
I hate the color blue.
Bianca repeated it in her head, trying to think of anything else than the upcoming dance or battle plans that her father has instructed her to go over again and again until her brain was sore. So she focused on a much quieter voice in the back of her head that apparently hated the color blue, and the more that Bianca thought about it, the more that she had to agree with her subconscious.
In theory, blue was a nice color, a color meaning wisdom, which Bianca wondered if her ancestors knew about when they made the flag for the House of Norse. Bianca looked more at her gown; the elegant opal-colored fabric with the pure white embroidery would make any other person swoon. However, Bianca stared at the pendent with the symbol of a snowflake. Who knew one of the most beautiful things in nature could have so much bloodshed behind it?
The killing and the betraying to get to where her family was now. The thought of Bianca's mother crossed her mind, and her mouth became dry. Sacrifice. The sacrifice to get where her family is now was too great. Bianca remembered when they put her mother in the ground that she kept her mind focused on her enemies instead of the sadness that was around or the kind words that other nobles whispered in her ear, a fake look of pity on their faces. That was the time Bianca only let her mask slip, letting everyone see her anger and bitterness to the point that the guests avoided her; however, she had no time for them as her mind was only on the people who destroyed her mother.
She remembered spending countless hours the next week going over maps to try to think about how her enemies thought. Did they just see the blue flags and her family symbol and raid the castle? Or did they scoop it out until blue fabric was waving a certain way to predict if the blizzard was coming so that no forces could help them? There it was again—the color blue.
A so very dark blue that it honestly almost looked black that if you spelled wine or blood, no one would be able to tell which was which just by looks. No, they would have to go by smell. The same very shade that Bianca wore, that was on their flags, that was on any kind of artifact before her house rebellion many moons ago.
Bianca felt a small pinch in her side as her eyes became focused again.
"I am sorry, my lady! Forgive me." The servant's fearful voice sounded beside her. "My finger slipped with the needle."
"Stop fretting." Bianca spoke, her voice monotone. "Just get this done, please." The last part was whispered, and Bianca guessed, with the servant's frantic mind, that he did not hear the young heir speak.
With her eyes now focused again, Bianca looked in the mirror at her grayish blue eyes, which matched her father's. Bianca remembered a time when her little hands would grab her father's face and make him look at her, playing with his beard while giving him a toothy grin. Bianca remembered how her father's eyes fought back amusement as he picked her small body up, feeling weightless in his arms like nothing could hurt her and how her mother's voice rang in the background. Now Bianca had to train herself to look into her commander's eyes, the same matching shade eye-to-eye as swords clashed and sweat spilled. Bianca hated to look into her commander's eyes; she hated the guilt that piled in her stomach, as she was the reason that her father lost everything he loved.
Bianca's movements would always become faster; she wondered if her commander would take the excuse to end her right than that there, let him say it was an accident or that she was being careless. Sometimes she wouldn't wear the padding that her commander told her to wear, sometimes hoping that her commander's sword would cut her open and let the guilt finally stop.
But no, he never put her out of misery; maybe it was to make her live with the guilt forever, a prolonged torture. Or maybe Eleazar didn't want to replace his wife to get another heir if Bianca died, although anyone would probably be better than her.
Bianca still waited though; she would stare into her commander's grayish blue eyes and wait for the wraith to take over, which so many stories wrote about when talking about the Master of Winter for her to put down her weapon and wait for the sweet release of what she deserves.
Staring into her own eyes just reminded her that she was a monster. She could barely stand herself, so how could her commander? It raised questions in her head that she knew would be nightmares later.
Blue was a horrible color, but even then, there was another little voice to pop up.
Not all blue.
It wasn't hard to find the source to find out whatever her subconscious was trying to tell her, as her mind always seemed to linger on him.
Hayden Elkar.
Bianca always kept her distance from the youngest Elkar, according to her commander's orders. In her head, it seemed that Elkar was born to annoy her with smirks and remarks that made her stoic expression crack for a quick eye roll or a dry remark that would send him into a fit of laughter.
Bianca remembered one night when she spoke to him that he said something, and for a rare moment, she smiled. She couldn't even remember what the comment was about—probably about the food or maybe how Bianca was just trying to impress him. She let out a snort, which turned into a small smile. She hadn't smiled since her mother had died, and she fought the urge to run out of the room. Even more so when Hayden looked back at her with a look of understanding in his blue eyes.
But even then, she noted that it wasn't the kind of blue she was used to—the kind of blue that could hide blood stains or that made her shake to look at. No. As silly as it was, his eyes reminded her of Robin's eggs, something she hadn't thought about in a long time. She remembered when she was a kid and her mother would read her a book every night, educational of course, and one night they read about birds. She remembered when her mother showed her the Robin's eggs and the ugly little hatchlings that were starting to crack the shell, which made little Bianca giggle.
Bianca stared at Hayden for a long moment after that. She only hoped, looking back on it, that her stoic expression stayed as his mouth moved. Bianca remembered in bed that night that she pulled out that old book about birds and read the Robin section, her mind wandering to Hayden now and again, which made her pulse race and her stomach roll in a way she had never felt before.
"M-my lady?" The servant's voice broke through again, and this time, instead of the servant near her, he was by the cracked door, holding the knob in his hand as his body shook.
"Prince Hayden is here to see you for some private matter."
Bianca's pulse raced; however, her expression didn't waver from her cold look. "Let him in and come back in an hour."
The servant nodded his head and left the room, going past the figure with sunny blonde hair and tanned skin. As the familiar blue eyes met Bianca's, she fought a twitch in her lips.
Maybe blue wasn't all bad.
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Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 10
Chapter 10: Something Tells Me You Know What I Mean
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Fandom: Night Hunter
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC
Word count: 5.5K
Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.
Chapter Summary: Walter and Kamaria have had a rocky road back uphill, will they get to even ground or will it crumble beneath their feet?
Chapter warnings: mentions of past trauma (abduction/SA from last chapter), police interrogation, yelling, Daddy kink, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, fingering (anal - f receiving), creampie, double creampie
A/N: I’m not a detective or a lawyer, I don’t know the law, I just write fanfiction. So, don’t use my work as research material. Also, there is a special guest. Oh, wait there are two special guests! Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits
Cross-posted on AO3
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Kamaria’s POV
One Month Later
“I have to say you are making leaps and bounds these days, Kamaria. I’m proud of you,” Yada sits in her armchair, smiling at me and I can’t help but return it, “Are you proud of yourself?”
“I…am, yeah,” I rub my hands together while trying to get my words to flow, “I’ve been through a lot in the last month or so. My abduction and assault were a blow to my spirit. But, I’ve done the work to help with the anxiety.”
“You have definitely done some work with your anxiety. Just looking at you, your shoulders aren’t slumped and you look relaxed. How about sleeping and eating? I was worried for a while about nightmares keeping you up. It also crossed my mind that this incident might trigger a relapse in your eating disorder.” Yada’s face is one of support, but I can see her genuine concern for me.
“The nightmares have gotten better. When I’m woken up, I do my breathing exercises and I’m usually able to get right back to sleep. I eat three meals a day now. It’s nice to feel hungry again and not just be forcing myself to eat. I’ve identified my triggers in movies and tv so I can judge what’s ok for me to watch. I start back to work next week, which is awesome. Still having trouble with crowds though. I mean, I have Walter there so I feel like I have an anchor but I haven’t been alone in a crowd.” As I mention Walter, that little thought in the back of my mind crawls its way to the front of my consciousness.
Maybe she won’t ask me about it this time?
“So, speaking of Walter, how’s your intimacy?”
Damn it!
“We make out like teenagers behind bleachers. He’s still my cuddly grumpy bear,” I slowly shake my head as I look down, preparing myself to unleash my emotions, “I love Walter. I do. He started going to a therapist to deal with how this all affected him. I’m so proud of him for that, that man is not vocal. I mean, yeah, with me he won’t shut up. But with strangers, he keeps everything so close to the chest.”
“Have you not noticed any changes in his demeanor?”
“He’s become able to talk with me about what happened. I mean, before? He would walk on eggshells around me like I was this fragile porcelain doll. After some yelling from me, he agreed that he wasn’t dealing with what happened and he started therapy. But, I don’t know how to like, ask him for more.”
“More?”
“I don’t know how to convince Walter that I’m ready to have sex. He seems like he wants to. But he always stops right before we would usually…‘go all the way’.” Getting frustrated, I end it there.
“You haven’t had sex of any kind?” Thanks for being blunt, Yada.
“Well, we have. Technically. He has gone down on me a few times. But when I ask to return the favor, he usually just says he’s fine or that I don’t have to. And, I’m just salivating these days because I can see that he’s aroused and he won’t let me touch him. I don’t want to force him to tell me what’s stopping him. But I’m worried that it’s something I’m doing that is holding him back. I’m five seconds away from just jumping on him while naked but I don’t want to scare him. And that’s not me putting down my body, I’m just saying coming at him like that might be a little…much.”
“This may seem intense but, have you considered asking him what troubles him?” When I open and close my mouth like a fish gasping for air, she continues, “Great. That’s your homework, then.” Yada takes out her notebook and writes something down before getting up to go around to her desktop computer.
My eyes are following her, my brow creasing, “So just…ask him about it?”
“Yup. Ask him what’s holding him back from allowing himself to be touched. Tell him you want to touch him. Tell him the truth, that you miss that part of your relationship. And ask him what you can do to help. Be comforting, be there for him like he’s been there for you, and be your genuine self.”
“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Just inform him that I miss his dick and ask him what I can do to make touching it again a reality. Perfect, I got this.” I slap a fake smile on my face and give a thumbs-up to Yada.
“Fake smile or not, you can handle this. Remember to breathe and take your time. Any answer he may give you could be triggering, so pace yourself and remember your coping skills.”
I nod, not really feeling like talking anymore.
We finish up the session and say our goodbyes. As I leave her office, I steel my features and make it to the hallway where Walter sits and reads from his phone.
Oh, did I not mention that he won’t let me go anywhere by myself? Yeah. He’s become my shadow.
“Hey baby, you ready?” I say, grabbing his hand as he reaches it out to me. I must have let a bit of emotion slip through because I can see the gears working behind his smile.
As we walk to the exit, Walter speaks, “You have homework concerning me, don’t you?”
I stop walking and gulp nervously, shifting from foot to foot.
“So, that’s a yes. Don’t worry, I can’t hear what happens in Yada’s office. You just have a tell when you have to talk to me about something, that’s all.”
My dumb ass actually waits for him to tell me what my giveaway is, we end up in the parking lot before I realize he’s not saying anything. “Gonna keep that to yourself, then?”
“Of course!” He chuckles, pulling me to him so he can plant a kiss on my temple.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” I pout, getting into the truck, “But, there better be ice cream in the near future.”
He smiles at me, tilting his head and saying nothing but closing the door. Putting on my seatbelt, I grumble to myself as he is getting into the truck. That little shit!
“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.” I freeze and look up to see a stern Daddy's face.
“I’m sorry!” I scramble to recover, not wanting to say what I said under my breath.
“Hm. Sounded something like ‘See if I will get any ice cream after that outburst’? But, that can’t be right.” He adopts a confused expression, then looks at me with a hint of fire in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now, let’s go home for lunch and see if you can’t earn yourself a treat.” He reaches over and pats my thigh before giving it a squeeze in one large paw.
The noise I make is somewhere between a whimper and a moan. And judging by the look on Walter’s face as he starts the car, he enjoyed the sound. He spends the entire ride with his hand on my thigh, and it’s glorious feeling the heat emanating from his hand.
Walter’s POV
After a simple yet hearty lunch, we settle down on the couch. She hasn’t brought up her homework yet, which means it’s going to be a tough conversation. It’s not as if I’m looking forward to having this interaction, but the sooner it is over the sooner we can move forward.
If I were a betting man, I would put money on it that she wants to talk about our sex life. Or rather, my inability to give myself to her as of late. She won’t like the reason why and I’ll have to take what she dishes out on that front.
I did something she asked me not to do and now I have to tell her.
I spoke to her attacker. Technically.
Walter’s POV
Three Weeks Ago
It’s been about a week since…the incident. Kam is taking this all in stride, from therapy appointments to meetings with the legal team. With the evidence collected, it’s pretty much an open-and-shut case to get both of these men in prison.
Justin is being charged with drug possession and being an accomplice in the kidnapping. But her captor is being charged with criminal sexual conduct in the second degree, rape in the second degree, and kidnapping in the second degree.
I am off of the case, per the department and Kamaria herself. I’m too close to it. I know that. I understand that I have a stake in this. The love of my life was hurt by these men, and all I want is to see them come to justice.
Seeing her in that hospital bed broke me. Talking to that little shit who somehow thinks he and Kam are in love? While he might have lost the plot, he’s a delusional kid at best and a misguided psychopath at worst. He’s in custody and he’s cooperating with us which is all I care about right now.
Well, not all I care about. The other one is on my mind nonstop. The mastermind who somehow got help from a kid to commit atrocious crimes. The tosser who I’m told is complex, charismatic, and calculating. I was specifically told by Kam to not get involved. I was officially told by Harper to stay out of it.
And I didn’t engage. Technically.
It’s a particularly taxing day and I barely slept a wink the night before. Nightmares were keeping Kam awake and I stay up with her so she isn’t alone. The lack of sleep could have accounted for what happened, but let’s be honest I would have done the same damn thing on a full night’s sleep.
I was walking to the men’s room when there was a commotion down the hall. It sounded like it was coming from interrogation and I felt like being nosy.
I wish I never walked down that hall.
I see Commissioner Harper exiting Interrogation Room 2 but he doesn’t see or hear me approaching. A uniformed officer stands at the door, his eyes flitting between Harper and myself. He clears his throat in a vain attempt to subtly announce my presence.
Harper turns and notices me, coming to turn me back in the other direction. I make it to the window before he’s able to stop me from looking in. I recognize Rachel sitting with her back to the window, but the person she’s talking to looks unfamiliar. He looks like an arsehole, that mustache belongs in a bad 70s porno.
“Who’s the–” I begin, but Harper stops me.
“Detective, turn around right now. You don’t want to be here.” He points a finger in the other direction and I’m confused for a moment before clarity washes over me.
“Why don’t–,” It feels like slow motion as I look back to the window and it clicks into place, “Is that him?”
The way he looks down, pinching the bridge of his nose, means my suspicion is confirmed.
Turning back to the window, I clench my jaw and stare ahead at the son-of-a-bitch. I can feel my hands start to tremble, and the adrenaline of rage courses through my veins. Only one thing can help release all of this pent-up energy. As if he could read my mind, I hear Harper speak up.
“Marshall, don’t even think about it.” He doesn’t sound very convincing, does he?
“I promise I won’t touch him, I won’t even say a word,” I plead with him to let me in, “I just need to look into his eyes.” My voice starts to crack at the end and I feel like I could scream.
“Don’t make me regret this,” He signals to the officer to step aside, “And I mean it, not a fucking word.” I nod and we walk in catching the end of a conversation.
“...and then that goddamn kid goes and falls for the girl. I wake up and they’re both gone! Police jammin’ me up over a fuckin’ skirt? Such bullshit! This wasn’t even on me. There’s no point for me to lie, I know you have Justin here somewhere. He’s told you plenty I’m sure.” As if he was so enthralled in his own story, he turns to look at us finally as Harper takes a seat next to Rachel and I remain standing and crossing my arms. His face peels into a shit-eating grin when he settles on me.
Rachel looks up at me and then to Harper who holds up a hand. I see her tense before moving on. “When you say “this wasn’t on you”, what does that mean?”
“I get an envelope delivered to my door with a picture of this girl and a fat stack of cash. I could’ve just run off with the money, but I was promised more when the job was done.”
“What exactly was ‘the job’?”
I debated leaving at the point and well, hindsight is 20/20.
“Well, the job was to find Kamaria Mansfield. Find out if she was happy, and end that happiness. Seems like she’s a lot tougher than we thought, eh Walter?” He looks back up at me and winks, “Where are my manners? Lloyd Hansen, pleased to finally meet you face-to-face.”
“How do you know–” Rachel starts, but Hansen interrupts.
“Like I said, sweetheart. The job was to find the girl, and anywhere that Mary went, her lamb was sure to go. And by lamb, I mean this big lug over here. They spend almost every waking hour together, it would be cute if I didn’t have a job to do. So, she’s definitely happy. But! She’s dating a fucking detective and working in a fucking police station, so my options are limited. I follow her for weeks until he drives her to meet with her friends at some stupid little club. Luckily, I knew I could overpower her, but it was best to make sure she wouldn’t fight me. And that’s where Justin comes in.” He stops to catch his breath, then starts again.
“Now, Justin…lives with me. Met him online, only knows me as Sir. That boy is a pretty little thing and he has his uses. Drugs and easy sex are about it, actually. I call him up and tell him to get an Uber to the club ‘cause we’re going to find me a girl. He had no clue about my job and he didn’t need to know. Sort of an unspoken ignorance is bliss type deal. Anyway, he gets to the club and I’ve been watching her all night. I wait until she’s dancing by herself. The other two chicks are at the bar being seduced by two lunkheads that look like they could benchpress a fucking cow. I make my way over to the girl and start grinding behind her. I figure she’s out on the town without the boyfriend, and dancing isn’t cheating so why not cut a rug? But she’s not into it and starts to try and get away, that little scamp. So I make sure I hold onto her tight while Justin gets in place to keep her distracted. He’s able to slip her the Molly. And it goes through her pretty quickly, probably due to the booze in her system. Pretty soon, she is all over Justin and he’s excited as hell until she starts to freak out, asking for Walter before she passes out. We get her to the van in the alley and we take her to where we stay.”
“And that’s the house near Twin Lakes Beach, off Route 69?” Rachel, ever the professional, tries to keep him talking.
“That’ll be the one. Had her for about a day and a half before I noticed her and Justin getting a little too chummy. I thought about killing her, but why murder when you can emotionally and physically scar someone? I made sure she’d never forget me, I made sure that what I did left a mark. She could never see it all as a bad dream, because she’ll have evidence that it all happened. From the pain in her pussy to the cuts from my butterfly knife on her hands and face, I’ll always be with her. And every time you look at her, Walter, you’ll be thinking of me, won’t you?” He was so pleased with himself. Perhaps he wanted to have this interaction with me all along, to rub it all in my face.
All I could see was red, my hands start to hurt from shaking so badly, and I knew I could pick him up and throw him just from the outrage in my veins. I keep my arms crossed because I knew if I lowered them, they would be reaching out for this arsehole. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself at that moment. I don’t know how I managed to hold myself together at all.
Before I say or do something I regret, Harper stands and walks out of the room and drags me along with him. For a few moments, I’m stunned speechless. But that’s over soon enough.
“He knew her name, he knew she worked here, he knew me, and he knew we were dating. This means it wasn’t random. Which means someone wanted to purposefully hurt her. But who would want to hurt her?” As the question is coming out of my mouth, I think of one name.
Christopher.
The ex-boyfriend from college. The one who abused her, the one she hit over the head with a sculpture. But does he have the means, the motive, or the opportunity to hire someone to rough up his ex? And would bringing him into this put Kam at risk of being brought up on charges of assault? With so many variables, I do the only thing I could think to do.
I keep my fucking mouth shut. I tell Harper this is too much for me and I make a hasty exit.
Once I am back in my office, I call to check in on Kam and just hearing her voice keeps me calm. I manage to keep my voice steady and if she hears my voice falter, she doesn’t mention it. And I thank my lucky stars.
As we end the call, I think back to Lloyd’s words: “Every time you look at her, Walter, you’ll be thinking of me”.
The stuff of nightmares…
Kamaria’s POV
The Present
“Walter?” I wave my hand in front of his face, getting his attention, “You were certainly deep in thought.”
“Sorry, love. Just wondering what your homework is, is all.” He takes a deep breath and nudges me to speak.
“Well, it’s…I just,” I take a beat, chewing on my lip, “Walter, I…fuck, this is suddenly really difficult to talk about.”
He puts a hand over my fidgeting fingers and instantly soothes me.
“Um, ok. I’ll just come out with it then. I miss being intimate with you. I miss touching you. And I want you to know that I love when you eat me out. Trust me, I absolutely go nuts for it. But, you don’t let me return the favor. And we haven’t had sex in about a month. I just, want to know what I can do to make you feel comfortable. I’m just hoping it isn’t something I’m doing to keep you away–”
“No, no, no. Kam, it’s not you. I’m so sorry that I even made you feel like it was something you did,” He turns and faces me while sitting on the couch, “I have to tell you something and you’re not going to like it. But it will explain why I’ve been the way I have been.”
I push down the immense fear that he’s leaving me, my abandonment issues rearing their ugly head yet again. I nod for him to continue to avoid the threat of my voice cracking when I speak.
“I know you told me not to get involved in your case. But something happened a few weeks ago and you deserve to know about it.” The grave look on his face has me worried.
“What happened?”
He proceeds to launch into a retelling of what my attacker said to him. From being given “the job” to following us and watching me in the club. It hurt to hear that Walter was given all this information. Just to hurt him. But, as mad as I am at Lloyd for what he did to me, I feel just as furious at Walter for keeping all of this a secret for almost a month.
“So, let me get this straight. You’ve been hurting in silence and didn’t think, not even once, to share this with me? Just leaving me thinking it’s my fault that you don’t want to have sex with me? But it’s the words of a sociopath that you chose to cling to. What happened to ‘we’re in this together’?”
“We are in this together. I just thought I could handle it.”
“Handle it?!” I untangle myself from him and get up from the couch to start pacing, my anger bubbling inside me, “How do you expect to handle something like that without actually fucking handling it with me or your therapist? Fucking anyone!”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath through his nostrils. “How could I have told you then? It had been less than a week since you got out of the hospital. If I brought this up, it would have seriously affected your progress and I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Oh, thank you for waiting to tell me until I had to practically reach inside you and pull out this information. You’re letting him get to you, don’t give him that power. I’m telling you that from a victim’s perspective. Yes, he hurt us, but if we dwell on that, we’re letting him win.”
“Just knowing what he looks like, having him tell me to my face what he did to you. It took everything out of me not to thrash him. I wanted to kill him. That anger…it’s never left me. I just push it down. I just…” An inhuman grunt escapes him and it goes straight to my core.
“Stop pushing it down.”
He wipes a hand down his face and looks up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Something tells me you know exactly what I mean…Daddy.”
“I’m too wound up for that, I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”
“I’m not afraid that you’ll hurt me,” I kneel in front of where he sits on the couch, “I’m afraid that you won’t.”
A shuddering breath leaves Walter before he leans forward and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck. “Does Princess need a little pain from Daddy?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I let the emotion inside me escape as tears down my face, “Please hurt me.”
“Fuck you look beautiful when you cry for me, Princess,” He releases my hair and leans back to unbutton and unzip his jeans, his thick and hard dick springing out. He reaches a hand to my face to wipe my tears and with that same hand he starts to jerk his dick, “Come suck your tears off Daddy’s dick, Princess.”
I’ve never thrown myself on a dick so fast. I don’t take my time, I’ve missed it too much. I suck him down, my tongue massaging the underside of his dick. The sounds coming out of him were so rewarding and I could feel the wetness already gathering in my folds. I clench my legs together to keep focused but it only made me moan around his length.
Gathering all my hair in one hand, he holds me steady so he could fuck my face and I couldn’t be happier. The heavy weight of him on my tongue, the drool leaking from the sides of my mouth, my gagging sounds when he hits my uvula.
It’s too much and I try and move a hand down into my panties but I’m stopped when Walter pulls my head off of him quickly. I sputter and cough, wiping at the drool on my lips.
“Awwww does Princess need attention on her little pussy?” I nod, as he jerks himself in my face, “Panties off, come up here so you can suck Daddy’s dick and I can play with that pretty pussy.”
I pull my skirt up and pull down my panties, shucking them…somewhere behind me. I get down on all fours with my ass up, leaning down on my elbows. Walter lands some seriously mighty smacks to my ass and stifles my moans by shoving my head down on his length.
He snakes a hand to my clit and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. I groan into his dick and feel him twitch in my mouth. I sink down on him, letting him repeatedly into my throat for as long as he can handle it. Which ends up being long enough that my throat hurts.
The man hasn’t fucked me in a month but has this kind of stamina, must be all the anger coursing through him.
“Fuck, Princess…need to have this pussy in my mouth before I fuck it,” He starts to get up and I go to move but he stops me, “You stay right where you are, baby,” He moves behind me on the couch, pushing my front all the way down so my pussy is exposed under my plump ass, “Fuck, so fucking wet for me already, Princess. Such a good girl for Daddy.”
He flattens his tongue and licks from my clit to my entrance, Stiffening his tongue, he fucks into me while his thumb rubs my clit. I push back on him, riding his tongue until I feel that familiar tension.
“Daddy, please may I cum?”
“Be a good girl and cum on Daddy’s tongue, Princess.” That’s when he decides to push his tongue as far as it will get into my cunt. I can feel him licking my walls.
Oh, he’s really eating me out now.
“Fuck fuck fuuuuuuuck,” I feel the knot tighten then release as I cum over my tongue and lips. My legs shake as I come down and I don’t notice Walter getting into position behind me.
I’m so tight and hot after cumming that he has to push in a few times before my pussy lets him in all the way. But once he’s nestled inside, we both groan at the feeling. Me from the fullness, him from the snug fit.
Pulling most of the way out, he pushes in slowly. He picks up the pace as he goes, his big paws holding my cheeks apart so he can see the grip I have on him.
“Fuck, I love fucking this pussy, Princess,” He slams into me so deep and fast that I wonder how the fuck he’s doing it, “But this little knot keeps winking at me. I think it wants some attention too.”
“You wanna play with my ass, Daddy?” We’ve never done that before and I’m so turned on and feeling fucked out enough already that I would let him do anything.
“That’s my good girl,” I hear him spit and feel it land on my ass. His thumb circles my knot before dipping in a few times, each time further in than the last until he’s to the knuckle. Holding his finger there, he starts to fuck me again. I feel his dick stretching my cunt and his thumb testing my asshole. “You’re doing so well, baby. We have to get you a plug for this tight ass, keep it ready for me all the time. Fuck I can’t wait to fuck your ass…fucking cum in it and plug you so you keep it all day long. You like that idea, Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy. Want your cum in all my holes.” At this point, my legs have begun to shake again telling me my next orgasm is close.
“Such a good little cumslut you are. You look so good, so full of me right now. Sweet little cunt is full of cock and tight little ass is stuffed. Is Princess gonna cum on Daddy’s cock?” His breathing is labored and his thrusts are getting sloppy.
“Cum with me Daddy. Fill me up!” I push back on his dick so he goes even deeper and I can feel him kissing my cervix with the tip of his dick. “Right there, right there, right there!” With one hand on my clit, I feel the rush of my orgasm as it floods over my fingers.
“That’s it, Princess. Fuck, it’s so…fucking hot…when you…squirt!” His words stutter as he chases his own release and fills me with a load so warm and plentiful that it leaks out past his dick and soaks the couch. Thank goodness this thing is so easy to clean. Between my pussy juices and his jizz, we have got a mess on our hands.
He pulls his finger out of my ass, then pulls his dick out and watches for a beat as his cum dribbles out. I know that’s his favorite part. He disappears into the kitchen and I hear the faucet turn on as he washes his hands. He comes back with one of his dish towels in his hand.
“You’re gonna get a boner every time you use that from now on.” I manage to squeak out before the warm towel touches my sensitive holes.
“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” He lays a quick smack on my ass before wiping the couch down as well. He lifts me off the couch and holds me bridal style, walking to the bedroom. “I don’t feel like showering right now, but you are more than welcome to.” He sets me down on my feet, kissing the top of my head.
We lay in bed for a while, not caring about his cum leaking out of me onto the sheets. We lazily kiss and hold each other and it’s nice.
“So we had our first fight…and it actually ended in makeup sex.” I kiss the corner of his mouth as he smiles.
“Let’s not make that a habit, though, Princess.”
“Well, I mean, maybe if you didn’t keep a secret then I wouldn’t have had to–”
“Princess?”
“Yes?”
“Is Daddy forgiven?” His tongue snakes out over his bottom lip and I know he did that to seduce me.
“I forgive you, Daddy,” He kisses my forehead. “And I love you, Daddy,” He kisses my nose. “And Daddy loves me too.” He smiles as he kisses my lips, reserved at first until I feel his tongue begging for entrance. Opening my mouth, I let him take the lead as he massages my tongue with his.
His hand glides from my cheek down my neck to my arm, finally landing under my knee to pull my leg up and open. As he slides in between my legs, I reach up and tangle my fingers in his messy and sweaty head of curls.
I don’t even care that he is trying to shut me up by kissing me. He’s so fucking good at it!
He reaches down to free his already half-hard dick and he teases it on my clit before using our combined juices as lube, entering me again hard and fast. When I break the kiss to try and catch my breath, he takes that as a sign.
Sitting up on his knees, he opens my legs wider than I’ve ever had them and proceeds to make me forget all about that silly fight.
Wait…what fight?
“Such a good girl taking Daddy’s cock so well. Just need you to cum once for me, Princess. Then Daddy’s gonna fill you up.” The sounds my pussy makes while he pounds into me mixed with the visual of watching his dick slide in and out of me has me quaking in minutes. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
I feel his dick pulsating and twitching inside me and I catch him as he collapses on top of me. Any other time, I’m sure this weight would be uncomfortable. But, right now? All I can feel is a fucked out man who can’t get enough of me.
I wrap my arms and legs around him as he focuses on his breathing.
“Fuck, baby. I must be crushing you. Let me–”
“One more minute, please?”
“Hmmm.” He settles back in and starts to kiss up and down my neck.
“Okay, if you start doing that, we are gonna spend the whole damn weekend in this bed and we have plans, remember?” He keeps kissing and nipping at my spot and just like magic, I can feel myself forgetting all about…
…what was I saying?
Chapter 11
A/N1: The title of this chapter is taken from Vain by KIRBY. It is such a good song, give it a listen!
A/N2: Did you like my special guest? Lloyd Hansen, everybody!!
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#walter marshall#walter marshall fanfic#walter marshall x black!plus size female#walter marshall x black!plus size female oc#walter marshall x ofc#walter marshall x black!ofc#ellethespaceunicorn fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill#walter marshall fanfiction#walter marshall fic#night hunter#night hunter fanfic#night hunter fanfiction#bright like the moon
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Sirens Song
Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Pairing: Comte x reader
Prompt: Day 7 - Against the wall /Table sex, "Can you feel what you've done to me?"
Word count: 1813
Notes: This is my contribution to @xxsycamore #kinktober2022 challenge! (I am posting a little early - sorry!) It is also the first fic I've ever posted online, so please let me know if you like it! I usually write for myself so it feels a little scary to share, but this is basically my love letter to Comte.
(The song that I primarily had in mind for this was The Love You Want - Sleep Token)
WARNINGS/SPOILERS: NSFW, smut, 18+ minors DNI, Comte's first name, angst, fingering, biting (light, no turning), sex
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The way the golden sun streamed in the windows it was easy to understand why everyone went out today. It was probably the last warm day before the bitter cold of winter. Sebastian stood in the front doorway and turned to look back at you "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? It's too nice outside to stay cooped up all day."
"Thanks but I'll be alright. I'm looking forward to a little time alone actually."
"Well, if you're sure.." he said giving you a sheepish smile "Since you're staying in can you put the clean dishes away before dinner?"
You gave him a gentle push out the door "No problem, now go! Have fun!" He turned and walked off with a wave as you closed the door behind him. The mansion was so quiet now. Quieter than you had ever heard it before. You stand there with your back to the door and take a deep breath absorbing the stillness that was so very rare. You let out a sigh "I suppose I should get that done before I forget." you say to yourself as you walk toward the kitchen.
You look at the mountain of dishes to put away from the banquet the previous night with a new determination. Still in a good mood despite the work, you start singing aloud some songs from the 21st century. It's been some time since you heard them as your phone died many moons ago, but you still remember the lyrics of your favorites almost as if you could still hear the music clearly playing in your head.
You return all the assorted pots and pans to their proper places first. Next the plates and glasses. You managed to get everything put away fairly quickly thanks to you being so familiar with the kitchen. As you were sorting the last of the flatware into the drawer -
"You have a beautiful singing voice, you know."
Your stomach hits the floor and your head snaps up to the sound of the voice, you see him standing, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Looking more casual then you had ever seen him before, without his overcoat, tie, or even shoes, le Comte has appeared as if from thin air. He tilts his head slightly staring directly into your eyes. Your whole face floods with heat "When- How- I- I thought everyone went out today?" you finally manage to stammer out.
"Oh they did. However, I chose to stay in and catch up on some of my letters and enjoy a little peace and quiet. Seems you and I had similar thoughts." he chucked to himself.
"I'm so sorry, if I had known- I wouldn't have been singing so loud! I-I'm sorry if I bothered you, I can-"
Before you could finish your flustered apology, he cuts you off "Tis not a bother, ma cherie. In truth, your song called to me reminiscent of the way sirens call to sailors. I was entranced, but I must confess I do not recognize the melody."
Just when you thought your face couldn't get any redder, a whole new wave of heat spreads across your cheeks. "Oh." you said shocked, but still embarrassed, "It's just some of the music I used to listen to in my time.. Um, would you like some tea?" You asked trying to change the subject. You turned to the cupboards, happy to have a reason to break the intense eye contact. There is something different in his eyes today. Something almost wild. You had noticed in the past that his eyes tend to follow you, but you tried not to read too much into it. After all, you are certainly not anyone influential or of great historical importance.
"I'd love some" You didn't hear him move but you suddenly felt his closeness. You put the kettle on the stove and turned around to push yourself up and sit on the counter. If Sebastian knew you were sitting on his counter he would surely flick you. You felt like being at eye level might help you relieve the awkwardness you felt, but it ended up giving him a chance to get even closer. You weren't exactly sure how it happened, but he was now very comfortably positioned standing between your knees, his liquid gold eyes searching yours. Saying nothing, he reached up an gently placed a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, fingers just barely ghosting across your skin.
Heat. Everything felt hot. His eyes seemed to melt every part of you. Feeling the heat start gathering in your belly under his honey gaze gives you a shred of confidence. Why else would he be this close? He wouldn't be standing like this if he wasn't interested, right? You slowly leaned forward, and when he didn't move away, you leaned in further delicately placing a kiss on his lips. He presses into you returning the kiss, and you feel one of his hands run up the side of your thigh. Just as you started slipping your tongue into his mouth, he pulls away.
Oh no. Feeling instant regret and shame, you knit your eyebrows together and look down at your hands in your lap.
"Cherie.. are you sure.. is this what you want?" you hear him say in a low breathy voice. "Are you sure you want.. me?"
Your eyes dart back up to meet his, surprised at his sudden confession. You can see something akin to loneliness in his eyes that leaves you heartbroken for a moment. How could he not know your true feelings? How could he not see that you've only ever had eyes for him? "Comte," you say softly "How could I not? You are the sweetest, kindest man I've ever-" Before you could say anything more his lips were crushed against yours again, full of desire. Pushing his tongue past your lips, you grab handfuls of his shirt. His hand continues its journey up your thigh to your hip and his other hand wraps around your back, pulling you tight against his chest. You pull your legs up and lock them around his waist. Your fingers start frantically unbuttoning his shirt when you feel him lift you. Still kissing you hungrily, he carries you out to the dining room and sets you on the table.
You pull back and look at him perplexed for a moment, and as if reading your thoughts he answers in a low growl "My bedroom is across the house and I simply cannot wait that long." After that his mouth is on your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse point, his skilled fingers working to open your blouse. Your whole body feels like it's being consumed by fire and you bite your lip, struggling to stifle a moan. His mouth travels lower, across your collarbone, and lower sucking on your breast and cupping the other in his hand. You hear him muttering something in French as his other hand wanders ups your skirt on your bare thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. His fingers find the top of your panties and he practically rips them off you. Suddenly the ceiling is in view and the weight of his body on top of your own, you can feel his length pressing against the inside of your thigh being constrained by his pants. Kissing you again, his fingers find your already wet center, and he works two of his fingers inside, his thumb teasing your bud. You couldn't help but whimper at the sudden sensation. Your hands move on their own to his pants trying free him, wanting more. He removes his fingers from you and you feel the loss of them. He pushes himself up, blond hair falling in his face and you get a full look at his bare chest. His skin pale, muscles lean and yet somehow toned but absolutely gorgeous. You open his pants and his cock springs out, larger than you were expecting, but you are ready.
"Be sure to tell me if there is pain, ma cherie." You nod, then grip the edge of the table as he lines himself up. He leans back in to kiss you as he slowly pushes himself inside you, carefully, feeling how your walls stretch to accommodate him. His breathy groan against your lips as he goes deeper and deeper is heaven to your ears. Once you are full to the hilt, his hands start exploring your every inch of your body, one coming to rest on your ass. You put your arms around his back as he starts moving his hips rhythmically, you feel yourself start winding up already. Now you really can't help but moan as he starts licking and nipping your neck again breathing heavily, while he slams into you again and again. His fangs scrape the delicate skin but he is careful not to break it. Your fingernails start digging into his skin and you know you won't last much longer at this rate.
"I'm.. so close" you barely manage to whisper out.
"Sing. Sing for me."
As if the words themselves were what pushed you over the edge, you arched your back up into his chest, head thrown back and you cry out. Your mind goes hazy as your walls clamp down and you feel his bucking hips start stuttering as he rides out his climax as well. Taking ragged breaths, his whole body now laying on you, his head on your already heaving chest. Your fingers find their way into his soft hair. You both lie there for a moment comfortable, catching your breath.
"Can you feel what you've done to me?" he asks in a quiet voice. He lifts his head to meet your eyes, looking into them like you are the most precious and rare treasure in the world.
"Comte.." you say somewhat timidly.
"Abel."
"Abel?"
"That is my name. I want you to know it."
"Abel." You say softly, in a voice barely above a whisper, and a smile more beautiful than the day itself blooms across his face.
Sometime later - You've changed the tablecloth and start setting the places for dinner, as most of the residents have already arrived home. Sebastian hurries through the dining room, rushing past you "I'm sorry I'm late, the shops were running low on some of the ingredients I needed, so I had to go way out of my way" he states trailing off into the kitchen. You smile to yourself and continue setting plates, lost in your own thoughts. Not a moment later, you hear him loudly yell from the kitchen "WHO WASTED MY GOOD TEA!?" You weren't sure, but you could have sworn you heard Abel chuckle from the other room.
~~Thank you for taking the time to read this! i hope you enjoyed it! :)
#visions of temptation 2022#ikemen vampire#ikevamp comte#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp le comte#ikevamp fanfic#ikevamp#ikeseries#kinktober 2022#smut
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S I’m sad so I’m making my skrunklies sad too.
I got this idea from the Jack Benjamin wife anon and because I actually finally watched kings
Can you imagine how Jack reacted to Joseph’s death behind closed doors? Of course, there was no way he’d be allowed to grieve when in public. But alone in his room?
He screams into pillows, sobs himself to sleep, begs a God he doesn’t believe in anymore to just give him one more minute. Just give him the chance to tell Joseph he was right. That Jack does love him. He loves him with everything he has, with every atom in his body and soul. But he doesn’t get to say it.
He drinks himself stupid when he remembers how he left Joseph. Alone and hurt, stuck in a situation that he didn’t deserve. Joseph deserved the life that Lucinda has. He deserves to be kissed in public, not just when the lights are off or when Jack is high. He deserves a nice wedding, where Jack tells him finally how much he adores Joseph. But instead he gets erased from existence, with the world acting like he never lived in the first place.
He wants a lot of things. But the one thing he craves most in the world is to be able to hold Joseph, press soft kisses to his skin, whisper like a prayer how loved he is. Give him all the praise and worship he deserves, make him blush in the way that always drove Jack wild. He wants to run his fingers through his hair, feel the soft strands as Joseph leans into the touch. He always did love having his hair played with. He wants to whisper insanely inappropriate things into his ear at royal functions to see him flush and his eyes widen.
“Jack, behave!” He’ll whisper, and Jack will snicker and press an apology kiss to his cheek.
He wants to hold Joseph close to him on long car rides to beautiful castles, tell him the history while Joseph smiles and stares out the window in awe. He wants to pin Joseph to nice plush pillows and do terrible things to him that make him cry and moan his name like it’s worth something. He wants his beautiful boy. He wants the love of his life back.
But instead, he’s left alone with a wife he can’t stand, grief that feels like it’s squeezing the life out of him, and parents who want him dead. He’s lost everything. His sister hates him, his father put him here, and his mother won’t even look at him. Thomasina, once she’s forgiven him, is the only one left. She listens as he sobs, gives him a solid hug and tells him “He’d want you to be strong.”
She looks him in the eyes, the way nobody will anymore.
“You were broken. You were taken advantage of. You are not the villain, Johnathan. Cross was the one who forced you. Joseph knows how much you love him. He does, and he knows that you miss him. Look for him in the little places, and it will get easier.” He nods weakly, and she wipes away a tear.
Years later, when his son waddles over to him, and asks him about when he was younger, Jack will take him in his lap and tell him. He doesn’t hate his son. He’s done nothing wrong. Sure, he’s got Lucinda’s eyes where Jack longs to see Joseph’s even if that wouldn’t have been possible, but he’s innocent.
“Daddy, do you love Momma?” He asks.
“No. I wish I did, a little bit. But I love you. I love you, little Joe, more than the stars and the moon.”
Nobody needs to know who his son is named for. That’s something he keeps to himself. And when he catches Joe making out with who Jack thought was his best friend, he just sits his son down and hugs him.
“You are not broken. You are not a disgrace. You are loved, you are cherished, and I will always love you. No matter if everyone is against you, I will always stand by your side.”
Joe cries when he’s finally told about who he’s named after. It’s been 17 years, and King Jack Benjamin and Crown Prince Joseph Benjamin stand at the grave marked with the name Lasile, placing a rose and a note.
I love you, sweetheart. I always have.
Yours forever, Jack.
in addition to my latest ask, I feel like this song captures them pretty well:
https://open.spotify.com/track/7LNm1oWd6PniO9wRYpNY5o?si=Q3Zvu1HkTZGDdYvHalmkBQ&context=spotify%3Aplaylist%3A6JD4buIEbZ164RYip4tsrn
related to this
I can't say that I've seen Kings, BUT Jesus Christ. You weren't lying when you said this was sad.
Oh my god. I love this angst. This is deep angst. My HEART. And I am a fucking SUCKER for any peice of fan content that pairs with music. God, I love music. I love this. Did I already tell you that? Anyway. I do. I love this.
I am UPSET but I LOVE
Thank you thank you thank you for sharing!
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Prompt 23: Suit
FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge
Prompt 23: Suit
“And here I thought I left situations like this behind in Sharlayan,” Thancred complained lightly, doing up the buttons on his newly purchased justaucorps as he watched himself in the mirror. It was almost strange to see himself in such formal wear, he was certain the last time he’d worn something like this in sincerity was at one of the formal parties the Leveilleurs would sometimes hold.
He certainly hoped he would enjoy this more than he ever had those oppressive things. Not that Lady Ameliance set out to host such parties, but she was fighting against the shadow Fourchenault would always cast on such events.
Urianger came up behind him, and their eyes matched in the mirror as the Elezen straightened Thancred’s lapels, smoothing the fabric down before draping his arms over his shoulders. He too was in a justaucorps, and Brigid had managed to get him into a dark shade of green instead of the grays he had started to favor of late. It contrasted nicely with the storm blue of his own. “You’re certain you don’t wish to remain with the children?” Thancred asked, looking up at him as a hand settled on Urianger’s arm.
Cred was no longer the darling accessory, to be draped along Brigid’s chest and fawned over by Ishgardian ladies, and so he, alongside Ryne and Gaia, was relegated to the nursery of House Fortemps. The girls were able to beg off under pretense of watching over the five year old, and Ryne especially seemed relived to not have to spend an evening rubbing elbows with Ishgardian nobility.
Urianger shrugged, leaning down to nose at Thancred’s hair. “We need only remain long enough to satisfy standards of propriety,” he said. “I am well versed in timely exits, after so many years.”
Thancred hummed softly, thinking about it. As one of Louisoix’s primary students, Urianger would have been required to put in appearances at formal events held very early on. “Yes, of course.”
“Well now look at them, pretty thing,” came a drawl from the doorway, and the two men smiled as they looked over, Thancred making a point to lean even more into the taller man. “A cozy pair they are.” Hilda crossed her arms, her justaucorps in a soot black (second hand from the looks of it as well, barely visible patches and overdyed to escape the inevitable fading, only noticeable to someone who had personal experiences with such things), legs in the same dark trousers Thancred and Urianger were wearing. She was grinning widely, hair tied back with a scarlet ribbon, matching her eyes perfectly.
At her side stood Brigid, giggling behind a hand. She was corseted quite happily into one of the high house gowns, the Rhotano blue shade perfectly setting off her hair and eyes, while matching well with the blue and green Urianger wore. Peeking out from under her hem, which nearly brushed the ground, were her practical boots. They all knew there were quite the number of peticoats and slips hiding under that dress, as well as a couple of fire crystal shards sewn into the lining, in an attempt to keep Brigid toasty warm. “Aye, quite cozy,” she agreed, pecking a kiss to Hilda’s cheek before almost gliding over to her husbands, a faint rustle attending her.
“Hello, Spitfire,” Thancred greeted her warmly, reaching out for her hand and brushing his fingers over the rings settled on it.
“My desert rose,” Urianger said softly, reaching for her other and threading their fingers together. “Thou art as lovely as always.”
Hilda rolled her eyes fondly. “Honeymooners,” she teased. “Now c’mon, it’s the first ball of the season and that little wedding of yours is still the talk of the town.” Despite that it had been nearly six moons ago.
“Aye,” Thancred said on a sigh, putting an arm around Brigid’s waist, the trio walking over to Hilda. “Let’s go put in our first appearance in Ishgardian high society as properly married.” He wrapped his other arm around Hilda’s waist, tugging her close and earning another eye roll.
“And scandalize the lot of them, already with a mistress on your arm, and in front of your lady wife and lord husband at that,” she joked, but relaxed against him anyway.
Brigid laughed brightly, her hand still holding tightly to Urianger’s. “And ‘twill be such fun,” she agreed, winking in her girlfriend’s direction. “Cannae be waitin’ to be readin’ ‘bout it in the society papers!”
#FFXIV#FFXIVWrite#FFXIVWrite2023#Warrior of Light: Brigid O'Donnell#Thancred Waters#Urianger Augurelt#Hilda Ware#Polycule: Come Kiss Me Sweet and Twenty#wow this is the first time I've actually had all four of them in the room and awake isn't it?
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Explanation
The Cup God Chronicles :: Part 6
Characters: The God of Night, GN!Reader
Word Count: 1174 words
Spicy Rating: Oooh hope y'all are looking for some angst.
"This...needs to stop."
Night froze, his thoughts screeching to a halt as he looked at the mortal, his mortal. You looked away, unwilling, or unable, to meet his eye.
"Moonbeam, what do you--"
"Just stop?" The pain in your voice made dread pool in his gut. "You...You have a job to do as a god, right? And...I'm distracting you." He couldn't say anything, stuck swallowing around the feeling in his throat as you continued. "Besides this...this isn't some romance novel. We've...we've spoken what? Maybe a couple dozen times for a handful of minutes? The longest you've been around me was for that party, and..." You crossed your arms over your chest, turning away. "I'm not just going to fall in love like that. It's...better if you go."
The god stared at them for a long moment, before he watched your shoulders tense, storming into another room and slamming the door shut. He knew that was his sign to leave. He could just pop in there, confront this strange little mortal that he adored, make you listen...
But Night didn't want to do that.
You wanted space, so...he would give it to you. It was nothing to call up a Door, to step into the House of Day and Night, to stand in his room and stare out over the glittering cosmos, burdened with a weight he didn't know how to explain.
---
Weeks now.
Perhaps it had been months.
He wasn't sure, but there you were, staring at him with their glow-in-the-dark cup of cherry juice. Night blinked, looking around, opening his mouth only to shut it again before squinting at you from behind his glasses.
"What?"
"I said, you need to fucking explain yourself." You sipped aggressively at him from your cup. "You've never answered any questions about anything, and I'm not letting anything more happen until you fess the fuck up."
Night sighed, knowing he had no real reason not to. He hadn't said anything because...well, you deserved to hear it from him.
"Where do I start?"
"I don't know, you haven't told me shit, so just...pick a place."
He pulled off the glasses he didn't truly need, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am the first god. I was there before anything else, when everything was night. I've never had a...need for followers. But when they first started appearing...it felt...nice. I...I felt a little less bitter towards you all. You humans...you have a freedom I can never have. You get to choose how you spend your hours. You can walk between night and day, and enjoy them both."
Night sighed again, placing the glasses back on. "It wasn't until I had followers that I learned how much poetry mortals write about the stars, the moon...and as you explore my cosmos, everything. You found beauty again in things that I had...grown bored with. I admired humanity. But...As a god, I've always had to keep my distance. It was...better, that way."
"So...why now? Why this book?" Your voice lost a bit of the anger, even as you held desperately onto that sharp edge to your tone, trying to make sure he couldn't weasel his way out of explaining. You slid the book towards him.
An old weariness settled over his shoulders, as his fingers delicately traced over patterns that couldn't be seen by your eyes, ones long since lost to time. "It was a gift to me, a very long time ago. There was a mortal who loved me very much...not the god and powers and position, but...the entity. The...the being bearing the mantle. It's hard to separate me from my role, but...they didn't care about the divine power part, and that was...new. I wanted it. I loved them back for that devotion that wasn't worship. But I...I refused to let myself indulge in it. Not until it was far too late, and I discovered them...gone. And it hurt. It hurt in a way I didn't think I was capable of feeling."
Without thinking, he opened it to the page you had first read out of boredom all those months ago. "They wrote all these rituals. The one you read was...was basically the call for me to know. I...I held onto the book, and every time they're reincarnated, I've made sure this book finds its way back to that soul again. Many couldn't read, others didn't read it or keep it. I...I used it like asking permission to reenter their life, to make up for the time I squandered with them. For...for a very long time, just having it in their life...some have died or been killed as just a consequence of having it, so...so I stopped. I couldn't bear the heartbreak of leading them to their death again. So, I distanced myself again. Made that gap harder to bridge. Over time...I lost all those followers. But I didn't need them in the first place. I...I only recently stopped feeling guilty over a death that may as well have been by my hands."
You didn't speak, listening as he grew more tired sounding, weaker than he ever liked displaying to anyone. "So...I have this because..."
"Because you're the latest." He couldn't meet your eye right now. He couldn't bear to see the emotions you surely had in your eyes. Were you angry? Annoyed? Disappointed? How long until that cup was thrown at him, and you demanded him to leave for good? "You said that we hadn't known each other long enough for love, and that is true. But your soul? I've loved your soul for millennia, my starlight."
Silence lingered for far too long, making even him uncomfortable, before you spoke again. "The ritual at the end of the book. What is it, really?"
"...It is what I told you it was. Everything I said was true. It would be the cost of you losing a core part of who you are, but I would leave you alone for good..." He swallowed, the part he tried to keep selfishly hidden coming to light at last. "You would also no longer be reincarnated. And...I'm...terrified at facing the rest of eternity without...that love. You live such short, bright lives, and I am terrified at the prospect that you would chose a permanent end to it instead. I...I've been trying to make reparations for millennia for not loving them, any of them, as deeply as they deserve. As you deserve. You aren't each individual person, you're you...but your soul calls to me each time, like...like it's telling me to try and love you better this time."
You had nothing to say, as the quiet fell heavily between you two. He looked up, seeing the tears in your eyes, and an emotion he couldn't name on your face as you stared into the cup.
Night swallowed, and did all he could do, the only action he'd ever known how to do when he wasn't sure how to act.
When you looked up again, trying to get the complicated slurry of emotions into words, you found yourself alone.
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an extremely stupid snippet i wrote and never posted just to offset that devastating angst slightly<3
featuring: nicholas being extremely high (for medical reasons) and also extremely enamored with milligan
(ao3.)
Nicholas was extremely out of it right now. Extremely, very out of it.
Namely, absolutely loopy.
He smiled, a little dizzily, up at Milligan.
“Wow,” he said, voice slower than usual, almost slurred. “You’re… mmm. Whoo’re you.”
“I am Milligan,” Milligan said, solemn as an oath.
“Mllgn.”
“…close enough.”
“He’s on the good shit, huh?” said Number Two.
“Yes,” said Milligan, and then, over-enunciating, “He is on the ‘good shit’. One tends to be after taking that many pain meds, admittedly for good medical reasons.”
“He’ll be fine,” said Rhonda reassuringly.
“Th’strs… are beautiful,” said Nicholas, staring up at the ceiling.
“The stars?” Number Two repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Nicholas looked over at them, unfocused. “Mm.” he said, and then he seemed to, as much as he could, focus on Milligan. “Ohhh,” he said. “Stars.”
Milligan’s face absolutely did not feel hot, and Number Two and Rhonda could Shut It.
He stepped closer to the bed—pointedly ignoring the looks Number Two and Rhonda exchanged, each full of amusement at his expense—and said, gently but firmly, “Mr. Benedict. Do you know where you are?”
Nicholas blinked at him, eyes slow and huge like a kitten’s.
“…Hospitl?” he said, surprisingly coherent.
Milligan winced. “Not exactly,” he said.
“Ah,” said Nicholas wisely. “Bad hpsltl. hoss—spit—all. Yes.”
Milligan sighed.
“Oh, oh, ohohoh,” Nicholas gasped. “Millgn. Cl’sr.”
“Closer?”
He nodded eagerly.
Milligan slowly, hesitantly, leaned forwards.
Clumsily, Nicholas reached forward, fingers trembling a little with the effort, and then—gently, and ever-so-carefully, brushed a long strand of hair behind Milligan’s ear.
Then he let his arm fall back and beamed. “Bttr!” he declared.
Milligan was not blushing, no matter how much Rhonda was snickering.
“Very pr’tty,” Nicholas said, very seriously. “Nice hair.”
“He is very lucky I don’t have a camera,” said Rhonda.
Milligan sighed. “…thank you, Nicholas,” he said.
Nicholas blinked up at him almost dolefully. “Oh,” he said. “Y’cll’d me… you said my name.”
Milligan closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Yes,” he said, feeling it was safest just to agree.
Nicholas beamed at him, incredibly bright and unrestrained. And then he fell asleep.
“We’re just gonna leave you two alone,” said Number Two, clearly about to laugh.
Milligan glared at them both as they left, although there was no real heat in it.
(When Nicholas woke, he called Milligan “handsome” three times, “beautiful” six, and just said “wow” upon seeing him twice. When a curl flopped in his face at one point and he just sort of stared at it cross-eyed, Milligan gave into temptation and gently brushed it aside, and Nicholas looked at him like he’d just hung the moon. Milligan, of course, definitely only stayed because someone needed to stay by his bedside, and the others had cruelly abandoned him to the task. Not because Nicholas kept looking at him as though he has the secrets to the universe written on his face.)
(Later, when the medication had worn off, Nicholas didn’t seem to remember anything. Until Rhonda had slyly asked if he thought Milligan was ‘as beautiful as the stars’ and he’d gone red and dropped what he was holding and then acted entirely too suspicious in his denial of whatever she was talking about.)
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campaign 3 episode 35: one piece will be on hiatus next week
I'm late (ish) bc I really desperately needed a nap. I still might not make it all the way through the episode.
put ashley back where she came from or so help me
jrusar is just fine 😎👍
"fuck your gold" "well wait, how much"
"I'm so proud of you" "you taught me!"
"I have a tummyache"
"that is how mathematics works, yes"
"she's on the moon"
scary imogen >
"you're going to mold storaaaaage"
"I refuse to acknowledge you guys"
everybody pretending to take notes about whitestone
rocks fall, chetney dies
me: mostly asleep
liam: "get dorian back"
me: sits up so fast my spine pops
"shit sucks, help"
I love matt's keyleth
PICK A TREE
now imagine her doing that with her face all screwed up counting syllables on her fingers
for maximum canon compliance
"that's the best use of wood I've ever heard of"
"is everybody just fucking evil??" welllll
"it's a spectrum"
"it's the poo rumble face"
"okay, JESTER"
"ashton has a friend who died - we're proud that he has a friend - "
fcg :(
loudna
"I wanna be happy bc you're making me happy, and you make me happy when you're not offering yourself like a piece of meat" you liiiiike him he's your friiiiiend
"are you going soft on us?" "NO. yes. fuck, I need a drink."
"I've been trying to do it for 20 episodes"
"I MADE a spell for it"
changes my twitter bio to "really strange and a little intense"
"a light just went off behind you" the set is also crashing
"I'm just a little halfling"
oh NO
OOF
suddenly: gravoids
the sound of Hot Cross Buns on the wind
GRABOIDS
I demand animations of all of orym's dope fighter shit
piss in her pockets
chetney on a fifteen-second broadcast delay
sometimes I put on nail polish specifically to peel it off, it's a nice stim (that is not picking at my actual nails)
fearne give them their Coin
"I'm begging you. Orym is begging you."
oh thank you for answering that liam
I am Sad but thank you for bringing it up
eshteross: I'm in Danger
"I think we're too deep to pull out now" LAURA
"fuck you laura bailey"
oh my heart
trap it for checks
jehezus
multiverse!
what the Fuck
chronic pain be like that
this is also how I wake up from nightmares
THE CURSE
squishy ashton??
chetney did you kill santa
you have to tell me if you killed santa or it's entrapment
"I sit cross-legged in bed by myself" cries
imogen
iiimogen
marisha's gonna pop sam
happy autumn equinox
he's trying not to out laudna to the others, bless
wait
wait
WHITESTONE???
WE'RE GOING HOME BABYYYYY
"I'm sure you guys are on vacation" they have like eight kids they forgot what that word means
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𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦
paring: luke castellan x fem!reader
word count: 600+
summary: you and luke are busy as head counselors of your cabins and almost never get to see each other, let alone be a couple, so you save it for nightime
warnings: swearing, kissing, established relationship
The moon was a crescent in the sky, the light coming from it bright enough for you to get farther from your cabin until it forced you to turn on your flashlight. You never liked the shine of the flashlight too close to your cabin in case you got caught, but it was all worth it. You were a couple steps away from the door when you tripped and started to fall, before a hand wrapped around your waist. As you were about to let out a noise of surprise, the opposite hand from the same person appeared over your mouth. You looked over, scared, until you realized who it was and your shoulders sagged out of the defense position they were previously in.
Luke removed his hand from your mouth, then held a finger up to his mouth to signal you to be quiet, and also attempting to hide a not-so-sly smirk. Then he removed the arm around your waist and shifted it so it wrapped around your hand and walked you a little further away. When you got behind the tree line that signalled the start of the forest, you pushed against this chest, but he barely moved. “What the hell was that Luke? You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper-yelled. He let out one of his signature chuckles in response to your outburst . . . And the posture you were currently in; your arms crossed in front of your chest, annoyance on your face.
“I am so sorry, my love,” he replied, pulling you closer to him. “How can i make it up to you?” He fake pouted. You hummed against him, your face turned to the side as you rested on his chest. “Maybe a kiss?” You smiled, moving to lean your chin against his chest as you looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow, smirk on his face. “Was this just your plan to get me to kiss you?” “Was it yours?” Your eyebrows moved to do the exact same thing he was. “Maybe.” He admitted. A light crimson rose to your cheeks. It reminded him of the sunset you watched in your second date, the colour of the book you always read that he got for you, and the strawberries that you would always eat.
He leaned in, you having to go up on on your tip-toes because of the sheer height of him. His lips pressed against yours as your hands went to his face, holding it in your hands and you traced his scar. It was a habit, one you had gotten from when Luke came back from his quest with it, embarrassed and insecure. So the night when he finally admitted how he was feeling, you traced the mark before kissing it and reminding him that you didn’t find it ugly, gross, or anything else bad. You found it brave, beautiful, and a sign of his determination. He didn’t feel bad about it that much anymore, but you still made sure that you loved him, you reassured him with that one little touch.
You broke away, forgead leaning against his before you chuckled, smile on your face. “What are you laughing at?” He asked, hand going to the hem of you shirt to trace along the side of your hip. “Oh, nothing.” You teased. He pinched you, but not hurting you, and tilted his head as if to say ‘come on now.’ “alright,” you gave in. You faced him again. “You’re such a sap, you know?” You said, smiling at him. he threw his head back and groaned. “See, I thought you were going to be nice and you make fun of me.” Luke tsked, wisps of his hair bouncing.
“Never underestimate your girlfriend, Castellan.”
#emma writes#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan x you#pjo#pjo tv show#pjo series#camp half blood#percy series#percy jackson#luke castallen x fem!reader#imagine
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Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 7
*Warning: Adult Content*
- Ash -
I'm relieved when the bell finally rings and I rush out of the class, wanting to get away from Trent as soon as possible.
I see Lylah down the hall at her locker with an omega boy who looks about the same height as me with tan olive skin and a dark braid that streams down his back. Lylah waves me over and introduces the boy as Wren.
Wren greets me warmly. He's much more soft-spoken compared to Lylah's loud personality but with the same amount of sass.
I'm kind of nervous as we walk into the cafeteria full of kids, throngs jostling and bumping the three of us as we male our way to a table.
"So Daemon's driving you to school? Lucky," Wren exclaims after Lylah gives him the 411.
"No," I shake my head disappointedly. "I think he hates me."
Lylah reaches over the table and gives my hand a squeeze.
"That's can't be true Ash. Why would he?"
I can't exactly say that it's because I'm from the enemy pack.
"I don't know. He's just annoyed by like, everything I do."
"You can't take it personally, Ash. I mean he's hot and all but those muscles come with a side of serious anger issues."
"All the Alphas that have tried to cross him can testify to that," Wren chimes in.
I'm not surprised but then I remember the way Daemon saved me in the forest. He was gentle and even brought me to a doctor.
Of course, that was before he knew I'm from Dark Moon.
"Really? What did he do to them?"
Lylah and Wren share an amused look.
"To put it in simple terms, he beat the shit out of them," Lylah replies, stabbing her Apple with a fork.
I gulp, swallowing down dread as I make a mental note to try not to get on Daemon's bad side any more than I already am.
"Well, now everyone seems to think there's something going on between us. Trent included," I continue with a groan.
"Ugh, you met Trent? Trent Williams? He's such a turd," Wren throws me an empathetic look like he's been in a similar situation before.
"Yep, he's in my biology class."
"God I'm sorry Ash. I'll come cuss him out for you if you want," Lylah offers humorously but the look In her eyes tells me she will really do it if I ask.
I smile lightly, scraping my unappetizing food around with my fork. Why is cafeteria food so gross?
"It's fine, he said some weird stuff but that's all. I'm just gonna try to ignore him from now on."
Lylah shakes her head, drumming her fingers on the table.
"Good on you, Ash, embracing the peaceful lifestyle. If I was you I would've kneed him in the balls by now."
"Oh, please do it, girl," Wren begs. "Ensure his egotistical genes can't be passed down."
We all laugh and finish our lunch. And exchange numbers.
It's all new to me, joking around with friends and adding contacts to the new phone that Lucien bought me. It feels really nice.
Then I go to my 6th period, which is theater. I'm glad for it because I like music but I don't know much about acting.
I'll probably just work behind the scenes because I know I'll definitely be too nervous to perform in front of a crowd. And my stutter comes out at the worst of times and embarrasses me.
I'm irked to see that Trent is also in this class. I'm somewhat unhappy that my newfound friends aren't in any of my classes, yet Trent is in two of them.
But in the big auditorium, there's plenty of space to hide and evade so Trent doesn't get the chance to bother me.
When I get home from school, courtesy of Lucien because he was free this afternoon, I'm feeling pretty great. Aside from my run-ins with Trent, I didn't have much trouble and even made friends, something I've never had before.
It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The only thing that hinders it is the underlying anxiety inside of me that gnaws at my conscience.
The fear of getting hurt again, of being exposed or Alpha Ferix finding me and worrying if my new friends actually like me.
For as long as I can remember, Alpha Ferix has been successful in tearing down all my self-worth. It makes me view the world through this lens of paranoia that everyone is silently judging me, looking for faults to point out just as my stepfather did.
When I get to my room I flop down on my bed, trying to push the thoughts from my mind. I need a distraction so I turn on the computer on the desk near the window, searching up shows to watch.
I avoid anything scary looking, even stuff only rated PG-13. I can't watch any even slightly violent scenes without horrible fear coming over me, the threat of hurt sending me into a panicked state and I'll feel like I'm locked in my own mind.
I'll get reminded of the brutal beatings I've endured and how helpless I felt as they happened. How I'd cry and beg for it to stop but the pain would keep raining down.
I'd never been granted any mercy. I try not to recall the painful memories as I continue searching for a suitable show.
I settle on a cartoon because I figure it will be less scary. I smile at the cute and colorful characters, giggling at their corny jokes, content as I nibble on some m-n-m's.
They've become my new favorites ever since Lucien introduced them to me. The sweet, milk-chocolatey taste in my mouth is literal heaven.
I can't even remember the last time I had candy.
Crazy.
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