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ghost-1-y · 8 months

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Aphrodisiac

Witch!Shinobu x AFAB!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, sexual content, unprotected sex, mistress/slut dynamic, dom!Shinobu, sub!reader, cunnilingus (Shinobu receiving), scissoring, squirting, cum-eating(?), spanking as punishment, aphrodisiac, thigh riding, hair pulling, degradation (reader-receiving), lighthearted Sanemi slander, lmk if I missed anything!!

Summary: Your girlfriend usually spends all day cooped up in your shared cabin brewing potions and studying spells, and, of course, placing the occasional hex on someone she doesn’t particularly like. One day, when you return to your home deep in the woods, you find that she has come up with a rather…interesting potion recipe, and wishes for both of you to try it out together.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Divider Credit: @/benkeibear

The woven basket you carried was slowly getting heavier as you trudged along the hidden trail that led you deeper into the woods, the soft crunch of the leaves a delightful sound which rang again and again with each step you took. Above, there was the loud staccato of a woodpecker looking for its next meal, and ravens soared overhead as they returned to their nest before sundown.

The red and orange foliage was mesmerizing, something you always looked forward to in the autumnal months of the year. It also signaled the beginnings of cooler weather, after the dreadful heat that summer brought upon the land. You hummed to yourself, singing melodic tunes that you’d heard since you were young – lullabies which would silence the cries of any newborn child.

As you continued your way into the forest, you stopped to collect herbs and vegetation you found on the trail – finding mushrooms and gourds growing wild near trees, as well as the occasional set of animal bones left behind by some predator. It may have weighed down your basket even more, but the look on your girlfriend’s face would be worth it after a day away from the cabin you two lived in together.

Your eyes eventually caught a plume of smoke rising above the trees, as a small oak wood cabin appeared within the forest, surrounded by shrubs and flowers. You walked up the mossy stone pathway that led to the entrance, the door opening for you without having to knock, sensing your familiar energy as you walked closer.

The soft crackling of the fireplace was soothing as you walked inside and placed your basket on the wooden table – organizing the items you’d picked up both from the forest floor as well as the farmer’s market in the nearby village – where you’d purchased foods for the upcoming week. You brought the foodstuffs into your shared kitchen, putting them away into their proper places before gathering the remaining items and carrying them upstairs, the soft creak of each step you took giving away the age in which the cabin was built.

You knocked on the door that led to your girlfriend’s bedroom, hearing a soft “come in” before entering. She was, as usual, at her desk – looking through what seemed to be a spell book with unbroken focus.

Her room was enchanting, her shelves lined with books about herbology and magick, as well as jars filled with various ingredients that she’d use for potion making. Her black cat was sitting on the comforter of her bed, eyes watching you as you walked over to her desk.

“I’m back, ‘Nobu,” you gave her a quick kiss on her cheek before placing your basket on her desk, “I brought you some ingredients, I hope they’ll be of some use to you!”

She turned to you, a faint smile on her lips as she peered through what the basket contained, taking out various herbs and anything else you gathered for her on your walk home.

“Thank you, love, I appreciate this,” she spoke softly, “I’m sure I’ll find good use for them.”

You grinned and sat down on her bed, her cat walking over to you before sitting in your lap, allowing you to pet it. A comfortable silence ensued, you watching her study whatever spell she was working on, with nothing but the faint sounds of the fireplace from the living room and the soft purrs from the cat in your lap filling the air.

“I saw Sanemi flirting with your sister the other day,” you mused, watching the way her shoulders tensed, “he was so awkward with the whole thing, it was hilarious to watch honestly.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to hex him so he won’t be able to shit for the next week,” she responded, and you giggled. Shinobu was always protective of her older sister, which you admired, but you found it slightly amusing what lengths she’d sometimes go to display such protection.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate you for that, ‘Nobu,” you smiled, and she continued her reading.

“I wanted to ask you about something, love,” she paused, “unrelated to Shinazugawa’s poor flirting skills.”

You laughed, “I’m listening.”

“However, I’d like for you to tell me if you trust me first,” she said.

You looked at her, briefly stopping the soft pets you were giving her cat, “of course I trust you, Shinobu,” you said seriously, “you’ve never given me a reason not to. I trust you fully.”

You could see some of the tension melt from her shoulders, relief seemingly filling her veins as she turned to you, her violet eyes searching yours.

“I’ve come up with a new potion,” she started.

“Really? What properties does it have?” you asked, and a faint smile appeared on her face.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I incorporated ingredients that are initially used for love potions, such as rosewater, rose petals, and cinnamon, however, I got curious and added some other ingredients to it as well.”

“Like what?” you asked curiously.

“Shatavari, maca root – both of which I ground into a powder, as well as damiana…which, if you’ve listened to my ramblings or have gone through my herbology books, you’d know that these are–”

“Aphrodisiacs,” you finished for her, your interest peaked, “and you created a potion out of these ingredients?”

“Yes,” Shinobu answered, “from what I could tell given the results of it, it’s a very potent lust potion, and I was wondering–”

“Do you want to drink it together?” you blurted out, slightly flushed from both the idea as well as the obvious eagerness in your tone.

She hesitated, “only if you’re completely fine with it, I know this is something new for both of us, so I just wanted to make sure–”

“Yes, when can we start?”

A slight smirk appeared on her face, before getting up from her desk and walking towards one of her shelves and pulling out two jars with a pink-tinted liquid inside them. She handed one of them to you, and turned her back for just a second to sit down on her bed.

“Honestly, one sip should be enough to cause the desired effects, so just–” she paused, eyes widening and mouth agape as she realized you’d already downed half of the entire jar.

You looked at her, fear in your eyes, “um…it’s not gonna kill me, right?”

She shook her head, “no, but…oh fuck it,” she exclaimed, before downing nearly half of it herself.

An awkward silence ensued, both of you waiting for the other to start exhibiting symptoms.

“Uh…’Nobu, I love you, but…are you sure this is gonna work?” you asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I’m certain it should work. I highly doubt that any of the ingredients would cancel each other out.”

“Okay, well…I hope I didn’t just drink that gross liquid for nothin—oh fuck–!” you jolted, careening over as you went to hug yourself, a searing hot sensation bubbled deep within your gut. Startled by your sudden movement, Shinobu’s cat crawled out of your grasp and left the room. You looked over at Shinobu with widened eyes, nervous considering how strong the reaction was, and she looked slightly concerned before going into a fetal-like position herself, seemingly dealing with a similar situation as you were.

The feeling of heat in the lower part of your abdomen began to radiate, spreading to other parts of your body. You shuddered, starting to become irritated by the clothes you were wearing – your skin just felt so sensitive. Without hesitating, you removed your outer layers, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties. Shinobu eyed you hungrily from her position on the bed, seemingly liking the idea of removing her own clothes as well – taking off the butterfly-patterned cardigan that was a gift from her sister, as well as the rest of her outfit. A blush spread across her cheeks, panting from her increased heart rate as well as the heat that seemed to fill each and every crevice of the room.

“Well, I knew the effects would be strong, but–” Shinobu gasped, “this is more than what I originally anticipated.”

“Kiss me, ‘Nobu, please.”

She didn’t waste any time, her hand going behind your neck and pulling you into her, kissing you fervently. She forced her tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan as she used it to massage and caress your tongue. She brought her hands to your breasts, roughly tweaking at your nipples and pinching them, the pain mixing with the pleasure and sensitivity of each touch she gave you.

Your moans were wanton as she fondled your breasts, grinding against her thigh as your panties grew wetter – barely even able to taste the friction due to how slick it was between your thighs. She slapped one of your tits, before taking her bra off and pulling you down by your hair so you could suck on hers while she continued to grope your own. You took one of her tits in your mouth, moaning at how soft and supple her skin was before sucking at it, earning a moan from her as she grabbed a fistful of your hair.

“Such a good slut for your mistress, aren’t you?” she cooed, and you whined around her nipple, licking and softly biting at it just as she liked. Her head tilted back, as she took her free hand and placed it between her legs, rubbing at her own clit to get herself off as you moved to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention that you gave the first before reaching up to kiss her once more.

Your hips continued to grind down on Shinobu’s thigh, your movements getting faster as you listened to her moans. Suddenly, without warning, you were cumming – nearly choking on your own saliva from how unexpected it was. You got lost in your own pleasure, fucking yourself on her smooth skin, moaning deeply into Shinobu’s mouth. Once you came down from your high, you noticed that Shinobu was eerily quiet. You opened your eyes, swallowing thickly at the disapproving look she gave you.

“Did I give you permission to cum, slut?” she asked, demanding that you answer.

“No–” you breathed shakily, “no, mistress.”

If Shinobu was feeling the same effects of the potion as you were, she was damn good at hiding it, because she readjusted her position and patted her lap, beckoning you to crawl over it.

“Do you know what happens to sluts who don’t obey?” she asked, her voice sickeningly sweet given the foul words that were coming out of her mouth.

“They– they get punished,” you stuttered, and she nodded.

“That’s right, bad sluts get punished. I want you on all fours and crawled over my lap, do you understand?”

You nodded meekly and obeyed her command, arching your back as she traced her hand down your body, eventually reaching the fullness of your ass. She grabbed a handful of your flesh before pulling her hand back and landing a slap on your ass, earning a small yelp from you. The smacks continued, as she alternated between your ass cheeks with each slap, both proudly displaying a blooming redness as she punished you.

“Ah– ‘Nobu please…’t hurts,” you whined, despite obviously arching your back even more so she could continue.

“Oh, I know, baby, but you have to understand that good sluts are ones who don’t cum without permission. Does your dumb little brain know that yet? Or are you just a mindless cum whore who needs to be fucked?”

“Mmmh— need you, ‘Nobu.”

Shinobu sighed, “obviously you’re too fucked out to comprehend anything I’m saying. But, you’re lucky, ‘cause I– I need to cum just as much as you do,” she started to pant, the effects of the potion slowly addling her brain as well. “Get off my lap, I’m gonna fuck you now ‘mkay?”

You crawled off of her and laid on your back, legs spread as she moved herself between them, holding one of your legs as her pussy pressed against yours – both of you gasping at the feeling of copious amounts of slick leaking out of each of your cunts. Shinobu started to grind down onto you, gasping and moaning with each brush her clit made against your pussy. You whined, starting to buck your own hips to increase the friction she was creating.

It wasn’t enough.

Shinobu’s movements quickened, wanting, needing more – more friction, more pleasure, more you.

Her head fell back, her gasps and moans dripping from her mouth as her grinding became second nature, unable to stop or slow down even if she wanted to. The mattress creaked with each thrust, knocking the headboard against the wall with each buck of her hips against your sweet cunt.

Your legs were shaking, one of them only being held up due to Shinobu’s grip on it – an attempt at stabilizing herself. Each brush of her cunt against your clit caused fresh tears to fall down your cheeks, your mouth permanently agape and emitting the smallest moans as you lost control over your voice.

Eventually, Shinobu wasn’t able to hold herself up anymore, collapsing on top of you as she ground into your pussy, seeking your lips with hers as wanton moans escaped both of your lips.

“Fu– Fuck, baby I– shit,” she moaned, kissing you sloppily, the warmth in her gut unrelenting as she fucked you.

You whined in response, babbling being the most you could do from how drunk you were from her pussy. Your abdomen tensed, feeling the familiar buildup inside of your stomach.

“Nngh– ‘Nobu, I– I’m gonna–!” you whined.

Her breath was hot against your ear as she panted. “Cum for me, slut.”

It was too much – by the time she brushed up against your clit once more, you felt a sudden rush of fluid gushing out of your cunt, causing a spike of pleasure unparalleled to anything you’ve felt before. You let out a high pitched whine as it sprayed all over Shinobu’s pussy, gasping for air as it messily dripped down both of your thighs.

“Oh my– you’re such a filthy slut aren’t you?” she smirked, and you flushed red with embarrassment, “come clean up your mess, pet– I won’t let you go until you do.”

Whimpering, you crawled out from under her and placed your head in between her thighs, sloppily licking up the mess you made on her pussy, swallowing everything you lapped up. Her soft moans encouraged you, moving up to suck on her clit before licking your tongue in circles around it. Her legs trembled on either side of you as you greedily swallowed all of the juices that leaked out of her, inserting two fingers inside of her cunt just to collect more of her sweetness on your tongue. You felt her tense above you, and a moan escaped her throat as she gushed all over your mouth, soft whines filling the air as you lapped up all that she gave you.

“Such a good slut f’ me…” she breathed, and you smiled as you licked the last of her up, earning a few more whines from the overstimulation you were causing her. You kissed her thigh before resting your head on her stomach, her fingers slowly brushing through your hair as she laid back on her bed, a sense of calmness filling the room as the burning effects of the potion slowly wore off.

“Mmh…love you ‘Nobu,” you mumbled, eyes closing due to how fatigued you were. She sighed, her own exhaustion becoming apparent as you relaxed against her.

“Love you more, my dear, always will,” she said softly, eyes slowly drifting shut as you both peacefully fell asleep in each others’ embrace.

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 (if your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you - apologies for the inconvenience)

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professional-yapper · 4 months

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Proximity pt. 3

Neteyam x Olangi! Reader

Warnings: awkwardness, more denial, pretending certain things didn't happen, Neteyam is STRESSED, reader is homesick and anxious af, Omaticaya girls hating on her cause they want Neteyam (who could blame them), Lo'ak is Lo'ak

Neteyam didn't know what he'd done wrong. He'd been pacing the floor of the hut you two were supposed to share, to live in together forever in less than a week, vaguely aware of the fact that he was probably going to wear a hole in the floor if he kept this up but decided he had bigger problems to worry about.

Like how you hadn't spoken to him beyond a few words, ducking your head, letting your braids cover your face every time so he couldn't see your expression, since he'd kissed you.

Had you not liked it? You'd said you didn't mind, but... maybe he'd misread the whole thing. Maybe he'd scared you off for good by kissing you after barely a few days of knowing you.

He couldn't help himself. You'd just looked so good, standing there with the sunlight bringing a warmth to you that he'd never seen before, with that starry look in your eyes like all your worries about the impending union had been wiped away. By him.

Or, at least, the home he'd built for you.

Even if you hadn't spoken to him in what felt like weeks, the hut was still rich with your presence in sweet, subtle ways.

Neteyam searched for them now, eyes flicking about the room like a child scrambling for a security toy. He found himself doing this often, in the same order, whenever he was stressed. It had been subconscious at first, then grew into an unshakeable habit.

First, your cloak, hung neatly on a peg near the entrance, smelling even now, albeit faintly, of dry grass and direhorse.

Secondly, a few small pots of paint. You'd use it for your ceremonial paint for the union. But for now it remained untouched, sitting on one of the shelves. Waiting.

The wind chimes. Your wind chimes, now, really. They'd confused you at first, but even on days without wind, now, you'd set them going with a simple brush of the fingers as they passed by.

A half-carved direhorse. You'd been making wooden animals for Tuk lately, possessing a talent for woodcarving even Jake or Neytiri couldn't rival. But you hadn't finished this one for some reason, and so there it sits on the window sill, as it has for weeks now.

Your knife sheath. Tough, practical, like everything else you owned.

Not that you had a lot of things. The Olangi were so minimalistic, which, to Neteyam, seemed something of a miserable existence.

The Omaticaya adored beautiful things, surrounded themselves with them. Pretty trinkets, sparkling stones, colourful, intricate clothes...

Neteyam wanted to share all of that with you. He didn't even know if you wanted anything to do with the Omaticaya culture and way of life, but he knew he wanted to share it with you. Badly.

But you wouldn't even look at him.

Neteyam sighed, stepping in the middle of the hut, clasping his hands over the back of his neck as he looked at your few belongings, wondering if he'd rushed things, ruined it all, ruined what could have been a perfectly good union.

Meanwhile, across the village, you were having your own problems. Well, you didn't have a problem. But the slender, rich blue Omaticaya girls adorned in pretty, delicate clothes approaching you seemed to.

"You're the Olangi, right?" the girl at the forefront asked with a smile.

"Yes," you said, brow furrowing in confusion as they drew nearer, though they seemed a little wary of your direhorse, your precious Akicita, who was quite a bit bigger than the Omaticaya direhorses and nowhere near as gentle.

Well, he behaved for you, but you'd been with him from almost his birth. You were all he knew, and now more than ever, since you'd brought him to this strange place with no familiarity to it whatsoever.

"Did you need something?" you began, turning from Akicita to face them fully. "Only I'm busy, I-"

You were busy. You knew brushing them off probably wouldn't endear yourself to the Omaticaya further, but you were.

With bomb-proofing Akicita, that is.

There were a lot of new distractions and things to scare or startle him. You didn't want any accidents, so you spent your morning walking and riding him alternately around camp, introducing him to everything.

"Neteyam will never love you," the same girl said, interrupting you, her words punctuated by her friends' laughter.

You kept your expression carefully impassive, and turned back to Akicita, stroking his shoulder to calm him as he stamped his hoof, shaking his big head unhappily as he felt the hurt strike through you. "I know," you said, voice taut with the effort of not snapping at them for having the audacity to even speak to you about such things. "What is it to you? You have an even lesser chance of winning his affections than I do."

She looked like she'd been slapped.

You'd only spoken the truth, so you couldn't even begin to imagine why she then hissed at you, causing Akicita to whinny, trying to bully his way between you and them.

"You are nothing to him, just a-" she began in a voice that was unsteady with false brightness, only to be cut off.

"Just a what?" a familiar voice piped up, and the equally familiar form of Lo'ak entered your vision as he ducked under Akicita's head to stand next to you, nudging the direhorse out of the way fearlessly.

Lo'ak and Akicita had taken a liking to each other for reasons you couldn't decipher. Neteyam said it was because they were both troublemakers.

Damn. You'd been trying not to think of him. After the kiss and everything... You'd barely been able to look him in the eye. What kind of Olangi were you, to throw yourself so shamelessly at him like that? You were a disgrace, plain and simple. He'd been the one to kiss you, but you didn't have to be so pathetic about it.

It made you dizzy just thinking about it.

"Go on," Lo'ak encouraged, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes bright as he stared at the girls. "My brother's future mate is just a what?"

She hissed at him too, but her friends withdrew, melting back into the village like they'd never been there, clearly not wanting to square up to the second son of Toruk Makto. She had no choice but to go too, casting you a nasty look over her shoulder.

Lo'ak shrugged, then turned and gave you a lopsided smile. "They're bitches."

You repeated the unfamiliar word back to him, though it felt clumsy in your mouth. It must be English. Neteyam had told you their father had taught them a little. Damn. You had to stop thinking of him.

It did nobody any good, not you or him. You'd made a silly mistake, blinded by the allure of your first kiss and him, and you shouldn't have kissed him. You were supposed to wait.

Not that that was the way of all Olangi, but you were the youngest child of the olo'eyktan. You couldn't just go around kissing people like that.

"Hey," Lo'ak said, giving your shoulder a shake. "You okay? Breathe, bro. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine," you managed, shaking your head.

He shrugged again. "If you say so." He seemed uncomfortable for a second, looking at you intently. Then he spoke again. "I don't actually like you all that much, y'know?"

You blinked slowly, absorbing that. Then you mimicked his shrug. "No one seems to around here." You turned back to Akicita, feeling like crying, which you hadn't for years. How could you, when you had been so happy?

You missed your home. No one had ever insulted you there. You were with people you loved and who loved you.

"Hey, no, wait, I'm not done," Lo'ak rushed out, following after you as you took ahold of Akicita, leading him away. "I don't like you, but my brother does. So why have you been ignoring him? He's really upset about it."

You raised your eyes skyward, asking the Great Mother for patience. "We kissed," you said bluntly, slowing your walk to let Lo'ak catch up.

His eyes went wide. "Wow! Really?"

"I have brought shame upon myself and my family by throwing myself at him so shamelessly," you continued in a monotone.

The way Lo'ak tilted your head told you he had no clue what was so shameful about it.

"We must be joined before the eyes of the Great Mother before we can... kiss," you explained, curling your lip and baring your fangs at him in exasperation. "And everything else."

"Dumb," Lo'ak announced loudly, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked alongside you. "We don't do that. You can kiss him if you want. You don't have to be mates to kiss someone."

"You have to where I'm from," you sighed. "And I did want to kiss him. I still want to."

Lo'ak's nose scrunched, brow furrowing. "Ew. You can keep that to yourself."

You rolled your eyes and shoved him. "Are you trying to help or trying to make things worse?"

"I'm not making it worse. You're making it worse by not talking to anyone except your giant fuckin' horse," he pointed out.

He was right, and you hated that. "How was I supposed to know the cultural differences ran so deep? I thought Neteyam would be ashamed too! That he would not want to see me!"

"Eywa, you're stupid. He's giving you space," Lo'ak huffed at you, tail lashing out and hitting you smartly on the back. "Just talk to him. Please. He's so depressed. It's driving everyone crazy."

"You are truly annoying," you said, hitting him back across the leg with the flat of your tail. "Fine. I will talk to him. And then we will kiss." The last part was just to annoy Lo'ak more, and he wrinkled his nose again, shoving you.

"Bro, shut up!" he laughed.

Taglist: @luvv4j4ybe11 @ikeyniofthetayrangi

@ikeyniofthetayrangi @rivatar @lunamochii

@mochamochimoch1015 @oakbuggy

some people who wanted to see part 3 too I couldn't tag, sorry if I missed you 🥺 let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Also rip to everyone who wanted more fluff, I couldn't resist 👍

Part Four >

#avatar #avatar x reader #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #loak #neteyam #neteyam x reader #tuk #tuktirey #kiri

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ambrossart · 1 year

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Post Prom - Part II

⏪ part one

summary: after leaving prom, you and eddie go to the hideout to reminisce and listen to music. one thing leads to another, and you end up going back to his trailer.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 7,167 warnings: language, new relationship, underage drinking, reminiscing about the past, pent-up feelings finally being expressed, very slightly NSFW, mostly just a lot of making out, plus a little dry humping, nothing too explicit, some suggestive language, talk of sex but no actual depictions of sex, eddie being adorable, eddie being romantic

This short story is the epilogue to Dancing with Myself. For proper context, I highly suggest you read that before reading this.

Eddie had to fiddle with the lock a few times before the front door would open.

While he jiggled his keys and cursed under his breath, you stood on the step below with your stomach all knotted up like macramé, watching the tiny moths flutter beneath the gleam of the porchlight. This wasn’t your first time standing here. You had been here before, almost six years ago, when you came and started banging on Eddie’s door at ten o’clock in the morning, yelling for him to get his stubborn ass outside. The memory made you giggle. You had been so nervous back then. Shit, you were nervous now… just a different kind, you supposed.

A soft creak drew your attention back to the front door. Eddie pulled it open with a triumphant smile and held it for you.

“Well,” he said, “this is it…”

And right before you went inside, you saw Eddie suck in a shallow breath. He was nervous, nervous about letting you see inside his house—his private, most intimate place—completely unprepared. You felt honored and grateful to know he trusted you that much.

Smiling, you brushed past him and walked through the front door. As soon as you did, you were overcome with this overwhelming and indescribable warmth that spread through your whole body. It felt less like you were entering Eddie’s house and more like you were entering his world. After years of standing outside it, only ever getting as close as the front porch, you had finally been allowed inside. It was hard not to get a little emotional about it.

“Sorry about the mess,” Eddie said, but honestly, you didn’t even notice it. Your feet moved on their own and carried you deeper inside, into the living room. There, you found a dark brown sofa chair sitting in the far right corner and a light brown loveseat resting against a draped window. A bit worn, both of them, but still in good shape. Pushed against the opposite wall was a small television, a writing desk with a built-in shelf, and a roll-out folding bed, where you imagined Eddie’s uncle resting after a long night’s work. It was a charming room, well-lit and cozy, full of all these random little knickknacks that you could have spent hours browsing through. There were hats hanging on the walls, dozens of them, and long wooden shelves lined with nothing but souvenir mugs, more than you could even begin to count.

“You know, your uncle could open a gift shop with all this stuff.”

Eddie was watching you from the front door, a faint smile on his face. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, he’s quite the collector.”

You nodded absentmindedly and proceeded into the kitchen, humming as you ran your hand along a small dining table set for two, with mismatched chairs.

Eddie gave you a bemused look and said, “What are you doing?”

“Just looking around,” you answered with a shrug. “Why? Do you not want me to?”

“Uhh, no,” Eddie said, a little taken aback. “Go crazy.”

So with his permission, you did. You fingered through some of the clutter on the counter, cracked open a few cabinets and drawers, snuck a little peek into the fridge—just a quick one to sate your curiosity, perfectly harmless. And as you did this, you imagined Eddie growing up here: making breakfast for himself before school, doing his homework at the counter, eating dinner with his uncle at the dining table. Did he use the upholstered chair or the simpler metal one leaning against the pantry? You couldn’t quite decide.

Then you moseyed down the hallway, looking at this and that. You pushed open the door, switched on the light to see into the bathroom… and stopped dead in your tracks when you reached the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Your stomach flipped twice, end over end. Yeah, you didn’t dare step foot in Eddie’s room. Instead, you spun around and went scurrying back the way you came, feeling much less adventurous than before.

As you shyly approached, Eddie said, “Well, did you enjoy your little tour?”

“I did,” you said while you played with the tip of your pinky. “Yeah, I really like your house.”

“Well, good,” Eddie said with a crooked, bashful smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

And then you both fell silent, listening to the low hum of a lightbulb that wasn’t quite screwed on tight enough. You stood with your back pressed against a metal storage rack. Across from you, Eddie was still by the front door, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He had his left hand on the backrest of one of the dining chairs, and his nails kept scratching against the upholstery as he slowly curled and uncurled his fingers. His silver-plated rings winked at you every time they caught the light. After a while, it was starting to drive you crazy.

Those damn rings, you thought, they’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.

Eddie’s voice made you jump.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” he said. “Do you, uh, want one?”

“Sure,” you said.

After all, a little liquid courage couldn’t hurt, could it?

Eddie grabbed two cans of beer from the fridge, opened one, and handed it to you. “Thanks,” you said, and then he went into the living room and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

No, on the loveseat.

Eddie threw his feet up on the coffee table, cracked open his beer and took a few slow sips. Upon lowering his drink, he turned to you and made a beckoning motion with just the tip of his finger.

This one simple gesture set your nerves on fire! You made it only a few steps into the living room before you backpedaled into the counter and huddled against it like a coward. It dawned on you now, actually now, that you and Eddie were finally, truly, alone. Yeah, this wasn’t two kids whispering downstairs in a basement or two high school students flirting in a public restroom on prom night. This was you and Eddie.

Together.

Alone.

Oh fuck, you thought as a shiver ran up your spine. You brought the aluminum can to your lips and took the biggest gulp of your life.

Now Eddie was getting up and walking toward you. He sank down beside you with his beer in his hand and said in a hushed voice, “Why are you hiding?”

“Why are you whispering?” you said, and Eddie’s face scrunched up adorably, like he didn’t have a clue.

“I dunno,” he answered in his normal voice. Then he took a long, long drink and wiped his wet lips with the knuckle of his thumb. “Seriously, though, why are you hiding from me?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and turned away. “You make me really nervous.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Really? Well, that’s… interesting.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw his lips curl into a proud grin.

“Oh, don’t get all smug now!” you said, giving him a little shove.

“I’m not, I’m not. It’s just…” His face softened with a gentle smile. “It’s a good feeling, knowing I make you nervous.”

Eddie’s words made you blush. You set your beer aside and burrowed deep into Wayne’s jacket. “I’m not used to you being like this.”

“Like what?”

“All… confident and flirty. I dunno, I guess I’m just used to you running away from me all the time.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “I never ran away from you.”

“Really?” you said with a teasing smirk. “‘Cause I can think of at least four separate occasions where you saw me and immediately took off in the opposite direction.”

“Well, that’s… because I was scared of you.”

You bent your head and started to giggle. Eddie watched you out of the corner of his eye, struggling to hold in a laugh of his own.

“You finally admit it.”

“I finally admit it…”

Eddie put down his beer and smiled at you. Then his eyes took on a strange glint, as if inflamed by some mysterious spark of emotion. Without speaking, he rolled his weight onto his right arm and swung his body over yours, pinning you up against the counter.

His deep brown eyes bore into yours as he said, “Luckily, I’m not fourteen anymore.”

Your lips parted with an inaudible gasp. No, you definitely aren’t, you thought, and drew away from him a little. This was too much. The house was too quiet, Eddie was too close, and you… you were silently chanting the Lord’s Prayer in hopes of banishing the evil spirit that was currently possessing your thoughts.

Your eyes closed as Eddie’s nose grazed your cheek.

“Hey,” he whispered, “can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded vaguely, unable to speak. When you opened your eyes, Eddie was hovering over you and staring at your face with a soft, almost sleepy gaze.

“You make me nervous, too,” he said. “Pretty much on a daily basis.”

“Really?” Your nose wrinkled in disbelief. “You don’t seem nervous.”

“You don’t think so?” he said. “C’mere.”

He took your hand and held it to his chest. His heart thundered desperately against your palm.

In a flustered voice, you said, “Okay, if this is a move, it’s a good one.”

Eddie’s chest shook as he laughed. “Well, good,” he said. “I’ll make sure to use it on the next girl I invite over.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Shut up,” you said, but you didn’t raise your hand to smack him like you normally would. Instead, you closed your eyes and let your hand melt into him, feeling his heat, feeling his heartbeat, riding each wave of his ragged breath. Was this what it always felt like? When Eddie saw you in the hallway, in the cafeteria, in class, did his heart ache for you just like this? It almost seemed impossible, didn’t it? Before tonight, this would’ve been nothing more than a fantasy, but now… right now… it felt too real to be anything but true.

You laid your head on Eddie’s chest, felt his heart jog and then settle back into a steady rhythm: slower than before but still beating strong. Then you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you tighter against him. You nuzzled your head into his chin. He pressed his lips to your hairline and sighed against your skin.

“I really missed you,” he said.

After that, time seemed to stop. You raised your head off Eddie’s chest and smiled at him. He kissed you softly on the lips and drew back with smoldering eyes. You touched your hand to his face, gently brushing your fingers over his bottom lip, and he leaned in and kissed you again, taking the last six years of yearning and heartache and igniting them into passion. His grip on your waist tightened. Your fingers curled around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. You kissed slowly, deeply, and then he grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the counter.

Items scattered and shifted. Somewhere behind you, a cup fell with a hollow clink. You broke the kiss, laughing, and craned your head to see where it landed. Eddie hooked his hand around your jaw and pulled you back, kissing you again and again until

Brrring! Brrring!

the phone rang.

The sound blared through the silent house like a fire alarm. You and Eddie broke away and stared at each other, breathless and bewildered. Then you buried your face in the crook of his neck and crumbled into giggles.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie said, looking up with a wide, defeated smile. He cupped your face and pressed one more kiss to your lips, and as he pulled away, he whispered in a slow, forceful voice: “Don’t move.”

He went to the ringing phone and lifted the handset off the wall.

“Yeah?” he said while rubbing his forehead.

“Hey, man!” It was Gareth, calling at almost two in the morning. “I thought you’d be home by now…” Lips smacked and popcorn crunched. In the background, an old sci-fi movie was playing. “So, how’d it go, dude?”

“Uhh, good.” Eddie glanced back at you and a smile came to his face. “Really good.”

He turned around, looked for a seat, and sat down on top of the kitchen table. Meanwhile, you had climbed down from the counter and were now carefully rearranging the ruffled layers of your taffeta skirt, making sure they lay neatly against your thigh. A guttural sound emerged from Eddie’s throat as he watched you. He closed his eyes and cursed his friend’s timing.

“No shit,” said Gareth in disbelief. “You actually got Chrissy to dance with you?”

“Uhh… no,” Eddie said. “You were right, man, that was a terrible idea.”

A terrible and wonderful idea. It brought him straight to you.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, buddy,” Gareth said. “How’re you doing?”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m, uhh…” You caught his eye and gave him a sweet smile that he couldn’t help but return. “I’m better than ever, man.”

“Is that Gareth?” you asked.

Eddie nodded, rolled his eyes, and said, “Uh-huh…” while his friend’s voice faded into the background.

He watched you fidget in sheer boredom for a while: tracing random patterns on the counter with your finger, flicking the lampshade and making it spin, picking up a pair of pliers, fiddling with them for a second, and putting them back down. Then you leaned forward and laid your chin on your palm, giving him a coy, impatient little pout that awakened something primal within him. The handset slipped out of his hand, pulled the coiled cord taut, and clattered to the floor. Eddie picked it up and clumsily brought it back to his ear.

“Hey, I gotta go, man.”

“Huh?” Gareth said. “What do you mean, you—Wait, are you with someone right now?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He was on his feet and moving.

“I’ll, uhh, talk to you later, buddy.”

“No, wait! Eddie! Eddie!”

“Don’t call me back,” Eddie said. He pulled the handset away from his ear and

“Edd—”

hung it on the base with a click.

During all this, you were snickering with your hand over your mouth. Eddie stepped away from the phone and—suddenly, it was ringing again! Your laughter grew into muffled snorts. Eddie picked up the phone and growled: “Fuck off!” then slammed it back down. And when it rang a third time (because, of course, it had to ring a third time), he grabbed the cable and yanked it right out of the socket.

“What if there’s an emergency?” you said, giggling, as Eddie came toward you.

“I… don’t care,” he muttered dazedly, and he scooped your face into his hands and kissed you.

This was not a chaste, gentleman’s kiss. This was a lover’s kiss, full of heat and passion, desperation and desire. You closed your eyes and parted your lips as Eddie trailed kisses down your chin and along your jaw. His calloused hands, strong but tender, traced down your neck and tugged on the collar of Wayne’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders, down your arms, and letting it fall to the floor. “Watch the jacket,” you said, and a sharp gasp escaped you. The contrast between the warmth of Eddie’s hands and the coldness of his rings made you shiver as he caressed your bare arms, slowly, gently. He kissed his way up to your mouth, cupped the side of your face, and slipped his tongue between your lips. You curled your hand into his shirt and let out a soft moan.

But then he drew back with a wince.

“Hey, I didn’t plan this or anything. You know that, right?”

Eddie’s dark eyes passed over your face, searching for any signs of doubt. “I mean… I didn’t bring you here to uhh, y’know, try to get in your pants.”

Your grip on his shirt loosened. “Oh,” you said, and looked at the floor with an embarrassed smile. “Well, that’s a little disappointing…”

(because you were definitely trying to get in his)

As those words left your lips, the air between you became thick with tension. You timidly ran your hand down Eddie’s chest, a faint blush rising to your face, and his eyes grew wide as realization washed over him.

“Oh shit,” Eddie said. He gulped deeply, combed his hand nervously through his hair, and spoke in a heated, trembling voice: “Umm… are you sure?”

You pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him. As you broke away, your eyes were calm and unwavering.

“I’m sure.”

The world seemed dreamlike as your body sank into Eddie’s mattress.

His fingers interlaced with yours as he slowly crawled you backwards toward the wall, his chest above yours, knees astride your legs while he pressed soft, tender kisses to your greedy lips. He pushed down on your chest gently and the mattress came up to meet you: your elbows fell one after the other and your head landed gently on the pillow. Eddie’s scent lingered in the fabric, a mixture of sweat, soap, cologne, and cigarette smoke. You breathed it in deeply and shivered.

All the while, his hands never left yours. They rubbed against your palms, slid between your fingers, and pushed your hands deeper into the mattress. Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he kissed down your neck and along your chest, the moisture of his mouth lingering everywhere his lips touched. The sensation overwhelmed you. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you stared around Eddie’s bedroom with half-lidded eyes, taking in everything—the posters on the walls, the clothes strewn about the floor, all the clutter on his desk, dresser, and nightstand: beer cans, guitar cables, cassette tapes, empty packs of cigarettes. Next to the desk was an acoustic guitar with a message painted on the body. You had to sit up and squint your eyes in order to read it.

“This machine slays dragons?” You threw your head back against the pillow and giggled. “Wow, Munson, just when I thought you couldn’t get any nerdier…”

Your laughter broke into stifled gasps as Eddie caught your skin between his teeth. He nibbled gently on your collarbone and ran his tongue up your neck, then trailed lazy kisses from the edge of your jaw to the corner of your mouth, stopping there as he leaned back onto his left elbow.

While playing with your fingers, he said with a cheeky little smile, “Sorry, were you saying something just now?”

“Uhh, no,” you said, feeling breathless and dizzy. “I, umm…”

Eddie lowered himself back down until his mouth was hovering over yours, close but not quite touching.

“You forgot?” he said in a low voice.

Your head bobbed slightly as you stared at his lips, desperately craving the contact that was currently out of reach. You moved up to kiss him and he pulled away, a smile dragging up the side of his face.

A frustrated huff blew through your nose. “Please,” you said, and immediately snapped your mouth shut.

Shit, you thought. That one was gonna cost you.

Eddie’s eyes brightened with surprised delight. “Uh, what was that? Did I just hear you say please?”

“No,” you said as a shameful heat engulfed your face.

“Oh, I think I did,” he said, chuckling. “Uh-oh, now I have to make you say it again.”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda need you to say it again, so…”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth lifted into a tantalizing smirk as he parted your lips with his thumb, drawing a whimper from deep in your throat.

“Please,” you whispered, and a switch went off in his head.

All of a sudden, Eddie’s eyes darkened with a naked, carnal lust that made your core clench and quiver with need. You arched your back as he lowered himself back down to you, and when he reached your lips, he kissed you with a hungry motion that left your whole body crying out for more. You dug your hands into his back, pressed yourself tighter against him. He ground his hips into yours and sucked gently on your neck, leaving faint marks all over your skin. Your breath hitched as you felt his hardening length through the fabric of his jeans. He moaned against you and moved back to your face, kissing your mouth, your chin, your cheek, and he whispered huskily into your ear, “Are you a virgin?”

The question hit you like a sobering slap.

“Maybe,” you said. “So what?”

“Hey, you don’t have to get defensive. I’m just asking, okay? It’s important that I know.”

“Okay, well… now you know.” You recoiled from him and turned your head to the side, staring at the heap of clothes on his floor. A lump formed in your throat as thoughts churned in your head. You swallowed hard and said in a small voice, “I take it you’re pretty experienced.”

Eddie gave you a funny look. “Well, I’m not that experienced. Mostly, I just watch a lot of porn.”

A giggle burst out of you, making your chest feel fluttery and light. When you turned back, you were welcomed by Eddie’s warm, comforting stare. He kissed your lips softly and a smile illuminated your face.

“So Corroded Coffin doesn’t have any groupies?”

“Not unless you count Gareth’s mom… which I do.”

You two broke into laughter. Eddie took your hand, pressed a few kisses to your knuckles, and leaned down to kiss you. As you parted, a question slithered its way into your mind:

“Hey, can you really tie a cherry stem with your tongue?”

Eddie arched his eyebrow. “Have you been thinking about that all night?”

“Well, not all night,” you said with a sheepish smile. “So, can you?”

Eddie snickered, his warm breath fanning your face. “No,” he said. “No, I was just trying to make you blush.”

“Oh,” you said, and felt your face get hot again. Well, you could’ve fooled me.

The previous urgency of his desire was replaced with caring deliberation. His hands gently caressed your waist, your hips, your thighs, tracing around every curve until he had each one of them memorized. You felt short of breath as he lowered his head and started kissing your breasts through the fabric of your dress. A whimper rose in your throat and you withered helplessly against him. You dragged your foot up his left pant leg, ran your hand up his right arm, feeling his hair between your fingers, drawing over his tattoos, pushing up his sleeve to squeeze the hard muscle of his bicep. He kissed the tops of your breasts, your chest, the side of your neck, and felt your hand on his face, beckoning him.

You both shared a moan when your bodies reconnected. Soft breaths filled the room as your hunger for one another grew, your hips moving together in a slow, passionate rhythm. Eddie panted against your lips, stared deeply into your eyes, and when his hand slid between your thighs, you pulled away and said through the static of your thoughts,

“Umm, Eddie? I don’t mean to kill the mood or anything, but umm… do you have a condom?”

The resulting silence was deafening. Eddie’s lips grazed your cheek and he drew back with a muddled expression, his mouth open, eyes slowly blinking, blinking, blinking.

You shrank away from him and grimaced. “It’s just, umm… you know, getting pregnant on prom night wasn’t quite the cliche I had in mind.”

You forced out a laugh and it instantly died in your throat. Great, you thought. Turns out, you hadn’t killed the mood at all. No, what you did was far more sadistic and cruel. Instead of taking it out in one clean shot, you missed all its vital organs and now you had to watch it limp away and die a slow, agonizing death. Way to go, sharpshooter.

Eddie shook his head and, finally, the haze in his eyes began to clear.

“Uhh… right, shit,” he said, “just, umm… hold on.”

He climbed to his feet, pulled out his wallet, and froze as soon as he peeked into the fold.

“Shit,” he said under his breath.

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “You don’t have one, do you?”

“No,” Eddie said quickly, with a little tremor of panic in his voice. “No, I do… just, uhh…”

He went to his dresser and started going through all the drawers: pulling them open, rifling through them for a minute, then slamming them closed. Then he went to his desk and did the same thing. With every slam, your cringe deepened. It was like watching a massacre in slow motion. You had shot and missed and now Eddie was savagely beating the mood to death with a rock. Just put the poor thing out of its misery already!

“Eddie,” you said.

He pushed his palm toward you. “Don’t… Don’t go anywhere,” he said in a distracted voice, and he spun around and stumbled out of the bedroom.

“Where would I even go?” you said, baffled. Then you slapped your hand to your forehead and cursed yourself for saying anything at all. Of all the times to listen to your gut, you chose now—now, when you were this close to living out all your horny teenage fantasies with the man of your dreams. What happened to the angel and the devil on your shoulder? Should you? Shouldn't you? The funny little back-and-forth? You figured there’d at least be a little bit of that, but nope! The stop sign went up and you slammed your foot on the brake right in the middle of a four-way intersection: crash, smash, KABOOM!

“Goddammit.”

You sighed, rolled onto your side, and started shuffling through the comics you found beside Eddie’s bed.

“Hey, you have Creepshow!” You plucked it out of the pile and opened it to the first short story. “Have you seen the movie? Oh my god, Munson, that last one with the cockroaches… boy, did that mess me up for a while. I freaked out every time I had to turn on the light in the kitchen. And I have a pretty strong nerve when it comes to horror. Michael Myers, Leatherface, Freddy Krueger, zombies, monsters, blood, gore, stabbing—I watched Cannibal Holocaust, for God’s sake! But fucking bugs? Yeah, I draw the line there. It’s like that movie, The Fly, that scene with the spiderweb… Nope, I turned my TV off so quick. I still haven’t finished that movie. I’ll probably watch the remake when it comes out, though, ‘cause… well, I do love Jeff Goldblum.”

You figured Eddie wasn’t listening and, honestly, you didn’t care because your silly babbling was the only thing saving you from the discomfort of this incredibly awkward situation. Without it, you would have spontaneously combusted out of pure shame. Eddie, meanwhile, was fumbling around helplessly in the kitchen: slamming cabinets, opening drawers, cracking open the…

fridge?

You looked up in bewildered amusement, then casually flipped to the next page. “I don’t think you’re gonna find any condoms in the fridge, Munson.”

“Yeah, well, there weren’t any in the oven, so…”

The fridge closed with a quiet thud. A moment later, Eddie appeared in the doorway with a hopeless expression on his face.

“You’ve completely lost it, haven’t you?”

“I’m the Sahara,” you said, and Eddie winced at your brutal choice of metaphor.

“You’re the Sahara, huh?” He pounded his fist on the doorframe a couple times, then hung his head and chuckled miserably to himself. “Great, just great.”

He slumped down by your feet and sat doubled over with his elbows on his knees. The seconds dragged on like hours as you two sat on opposite ends of the bed, not saying a word to each other. You kept flipping through the comic, but you didn’t read any of it, not a single word. You thought you had ruined the whole night.

You sucked in a quiet breath and—

“Sorry,” Eddie said, making you jerk your head up in surprise. As you looked at him now, he seemed strikingly timid, like the fourteen-year-old boy who could barely hold your gaze. “Guess I should’ve been better prepared before I, umm…”

His shoulders bounced with light, easy laughter.

“What’s so funny?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said while fiddling with the ring on his right hand. “It’s just, uhh… y’know, I’ve thought of this moment for a long time, a long time, and now that I finally got you here…” A peaceful smile touched his face. “It’s just funny how it all worked out.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Eddie sat up and turned toward you. “We don’t have to rush this,” he said. “In fact, it’s probably better that we don’t.”

“Yeah,” you said.

Then, with a shy dip of your head: “Except now you’ve got me a little curious.”

“Hm? About what?”

“Well… you said you’ve thought about it…”

Eddie grunted low in his throat, a guilty, guttural sound.

“Uh-huh,” you said, snickering. “So… how was I?”

“You were, uhh…” He ground his jaw in thought for a minute, then closed his eyes and said with a deeply satisfied sigh, “Sensational.”

That sent you over the edge! You fell over, chortling hysterically until your stomach started cramping and you just couldn’t take it anymore. While drying your eyes, you said, “Sensational, huh? Well, there’s a bar I’ll never reach.”

“Yeah, I’m not too worried,” Eddie said.

The conviction in his voice threw your heart into a panic. You turned away, pressed your burning face into the cool pages of Eddie’s comic book, and pretended to go back to reading. That’s when you felt the bed dip as Eddie stretched out beside you, lying on his stomach with his elbows supporting him.

“So you’ve been snooping, huh?” He gestured toward the comic with his chin. “What’d you find that’s so interesting?”

“Creepshow.” You turned to the next page. “Hey, why do you have this, anyway? I thought you didn’t like horror.”

“Yeah, well… apparently, I’m Halloween-themed.”

Your breath hitched in mid-sentence. You lifted your eyes off the page and met Eddie’s affectionate stare.

“I still don’t get what that means, by the way.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” you said, and let out a quiet laugh. “I thought I knew when I said it, but now that I think about it, it doesn’t really make that much sense, does it?”

You gave Eddie small smile and went back to reading. He lay next to you for a bit longer, observing the subtle changes in your focused expression. Then he suddenly got up and started rummaging through his desk drawers again. The familiar slamming sound made you giggle.

“Okay, the condom fairy doesn’t exist, Munson. No matter how many times you open that drawer, a box of condoms won’t magically appear.”

“Oh, I’ve already given up on that dream,” Eddie said. He crossed the room, dropped to his knees, and started digging through all the junk under his bed.

Now you were getting a little curious yourself. You climbed to your knees, put your hands on the edge of the mattress, and peered down at him.

“I’m not interested in your porn collection, either.”

Eddie popped his head up and smiled at you. “This isn’t where I keep my porn,” he said, and tossed you a flirty little wink. Then he went back under the bed and—“Holy shit!”—dragged out a black three-ring binder.

Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw it. “Wait, is that…?”

You gasped excitedly and made a “gimme” motion with your hands. When Eddie couldn’t meet your demands fast enough, you snatched the binder off the floor and sat down with it in the middle of the bed. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Fuck, man,” Eddie said while scratching the back of his head, “I haven’t seen that thing in years.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you said, and swept some of the dust off the cover.

The binder looked exactly the same as you remembered, right down to the black-and-white Black Sabbath sticker with the giant rip in the corner. You opened it up and started flipping through it like it was a fully illustrated, limited-edition novel from your favorite fantasy author. It had everything: character sheets, ability guides, spell lists, equipment and inventory tables, maps, drawings, detailed notes from every session, and all these little extra reference pages to help describe his character’s attacks, actions, and movements, because Eddie wanted to sound so cool during combat. You couldn’t stop smiling as you went through it. It was like a little time capsule.

“It’s so weird,” Eddie said in a quiet, captivated voice.

You looked up and saw him sitting directly across from you, staring not at the binder but at you.

“What’s weird?” you asked.

“I dunno, it’s just… sometimes when I look at you, I get these little flashes of back then. It’s kinda freaky, actually, like déjà vu or something.” Eddie’s face flushed a light pink, seeming to catch him by surprise. He immediately shook the thought away. “Uhh, sorry. Go ahead and keep snooping.”

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, then went back to the page. You turned to the next section and said, “Oh my god, here it is! The Shrieking Queen’s Catacombs, Scottie’s infamous campaign. How many pages are there of you just complaining about me, Munson? Let’s count, shall we? Uhh, one, two, three…”

You flipped to the next page and a loose paper slid out.

“What’s this?” you said, and casually looked it over. “Well, this looks like a very poorly rendered dungeon map.” Laughing, you examined it closer. “The Labyrinth of Neverending Nightmares. Ohhhh, how spooky… Wait, this doesn’t look like one of Scottie’s, though. No, his are like ten levels deep and full of all these annoying traps that someone always gets caught in, and by ‘someone’ I mean you, Munson. Then I have to get you out because for some reason you can’t roll higher than a fucking two…”

You giggled at the memory, then showed Eddie the paper and said, “Okay, I give up. What is this?”

“It’s mine,” Eddie said with a modest smile, making your face fall in astonishment. “Yeah, that’s my dungeon. Or at least one of them, anyway. I thought I chose one of the better-drawn maps, but obviously not…”

Your eyes were wide as you listened to him. When you finally blinked, they became wet and blurry.

“Wait, what? You wrote a campaign? How come you never told me?”

“I was working up to it,” Eddie said. “I had it in my backpack for like two weeks ‘cause I kept chickening out. And by the time I finally gathered up enough courage to do it, well…”

“I killed you.”

“Yeah…”

The words echoed in your mind like a curse. You buried your face in your hands and cried out in anguish: “Oh my god, I’m a monster!”

“Well, you’re a really pretty monster,” Eddie said with a light-hearted chuckle, but you didn’t laugh like he thought you would. Instead, you sat hunched over with your hands covering your face, sniffling back tears. He reached for you and gave your shoulder a shake. “Hey, come on, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I’ve already seen you cry way too much tonight, and I really don’t like it.”

He leaned over and brought his lips close to your ear.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me,” you said, and raised your chin to look at him. The compassion in his eyes almost made you burst into tears again. You didn’t deserve it. “Four years, Eddie. That’s a really long time. I can’t help but think of all the things we missed out on, and now…”

Now they were all piling onto your chest like bricks. The weight of it was enough to crush you. You lowered your head and felt your eyes well up with guilt and grief.

“But we didn’t miss out on anything.” Eddie gently took your face into his hands, dried your tears with his thumbs. “We’re still gonna do everything. I’m gonna take you on a date, a real date ‘cause I don’t think this one technically counts. And I’m gonna meet your parents, which I’m already kinda dreading, if I’m being totally honest. And we’re gonna, y’know, cut class and go make out in my van. That’ll be really fun. Yeah, I’m actually really looking forward to that one. And then, uhh, let’s see… we’re gonna have our first fight in like three weeks, so I better start preparing for that now ‘cause I just know you’re gonna fight dirty. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna hit me below the belt a couple times. But that’s okay ‘cause the make-up sex will be fantastic—y’know, once we actually have condoms. I’ll buy some tomorrow. A big box.”

You snorted under your breath. “I think a regular box is fine.”

“No, just… trust me,” Eddie said. “We need a big box.”

You blinked at him for a second, dumbstruck and speechless, your cheeks all aflame. Then your head slipped out of his hands as your whole body collapsed into giggles.

With a shadow of a smirk, Eddie said, “You think I’m joking right now, but I’m not. I’m buying the biggest box they have.”

“Please, stop,” you said, barely able to breathe.

“I’m just saying, I’m gonna be fully prepared next time… assuming there is a next time, anyway.”

You lifted your head and smiled at him, your face glowing in the aftermath of your laughter. “There will definitely be a next time,” you said. Then you placed a feather-light kiss on his lips, drew back, and he pulled you in for another, deeper kiss, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw.

“So, is it scary?” you asked afterwards.

“Is what scary?”

“The campaign you wrote, is it really scary?”

“I made it extra scary just for you.”

“Wow,” you said with an awestruck grin, “an extra scary campaign just for me? Well, now we have to play it… Can we?”

In a tender voice, Eddie said, “You’re the only one I’d ever play it with,” and you felt your eyes tear up again.

Choking them back, you returned your attention to the binder and discovered something that made your heart swell with indescribable joy.

“Hey… this looks familiar.”

It was the character sheet you had made for him. He had kept it, after all.

“I tried to fix it,” Eddie said while you carefully brushed your fingers over the softened wrinkles in the paper. There was a giant iron burn in the middle.

“How hot was the iron?” you asked.

“Oh, it was scorching,” Eddie said. “Yeah, it’s a miracle I didn’t burn the house down.”

Your laughter rang together effortlessly. For a second, it was like you two were back in middle school, giggling and goofing off in Scottie’s basement while everyone else stared at you and wondered what was so damn funny. It was a surreal feeling, being together like this again. In fact, it felt a little like

Déjà vu… Yeah, that is weird.

You touched the burn mark gently. “I thought you threw this away.”

Eddie furrowed his brow and shook his head, as if the thought had never even occurred to him.

Then, after a brief period of silence, he said, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Do you still have your journal?”

The question brought a smile to your face. “You know I do.”

Eddie nodded and put his hand over his mouth, concealing an ever-growing smile of his own. With his lips pressed against his knuckles, he said, “Okay, so… how many pages was I really in? I’ve always been curious.”

You went quiet for a minute, trying to count the pages, but you soon realized it was pointless. Even if you counted them a thousand times, the answer would always be the same.

“Not nearly enough,” you said, and Eddie’s eyes lit up with amazement.

“That’s… a really good answer,” he said, surrendering an embarrassed laugh. “Shit, okay… yeah, I think I need a second to recover from that one.”

He turned away and tried to regain his composure while you sat and watched, resisting the urge to tease him. Outside, a car was pulling up in front of the house across the road, its headlights flashing through the cracks in Eddie’s blinds. The sound of the engine made you both pause and reflect.

“I should probably take you home,” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” you said, “but then again, it is very late.”

“It is very late…”

“And you’re probably tired…”

“I am really tired…”

“Plus, you’ve been drinking…”

“You’re right, I have been drinking… so have you.”

“Mhm,” you said, and felt your heart quicken with a surge of anxiety and excitement. “So, for both our sakes, I think the safest thing would be for me to just stay here tonight.”

You hid your eyes as you said this, worried you might’ve overstepped and crossed some invisible line, but then you heard Eddie let out a quiet, contented sigh and you felt silly for worrying at all.

“Okay,” he said, smiling to himself.

He went to his closet, pulled out two shirts and presented them to you. “All right, pick one: Slayer or Megadeth. Choose wisely ‘cause this decision could very well determine the future of our relationship.”

You pressed your lips together and thought hard about it for a while.

“Megadeth.”

"Good choice," Eddie said, and tossed it to you. Then he gave you a pair of his boxers, blushing a little as he did. “Umm, I’ll be outside waiting on the porch, so uhh… just knock on the window when you’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you said, giving him a timid smile.

The air felt lighter, crisper as Eddie stepped onto the porch and sank into his uncle’s chair, a chair he had sat in over a hundred times: in the morning before school, at night while he watched his uncle leave for work, when he needed to think, when he couldn’t sleep, when he was simply bored and didn’t have anything better to do. Now here he was sitting in this beat-up old chair again, this time waiting for you.

Instinctively, Eddie reached for his cigarettes and realized he wasn’t wearing his jacket. Normally, this would make him grunt in frustration, but tonight he just threw his head back and sighed happily into the cool night air.

This was a good night, he thought, probably the best night of his life.

Then he heard your gentle tap, tap, tap on the window, stood up, and went back inside.

⏩️ bonus scene

taglist:

@loserxdenbrough @sweetpeapod @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @afriwrites @andromeda-andromeda @boeutiful @holdonmars @ramona-thorns @jules-tv @munsonbb @shadow-h-cipher @lagataprrr @secrethologramflower @lostinwonderland314 @unknidthots @to-the-world-kpop @neewtmas

@aizawash0e @albedobrainrot @alina-janelle @allexthakatt @allie-smile @ameliachs @anxiousstark @apolixyan @aquariusbarnes @asshats23 @atreyuinthemidle2 @bakulova @bbyitskt @blacklikemysoulx @blankcanvas48 @booksarekindaneat @breehumbles @bria25163 @buckys-black-dress @buckysxgal @callmeyesterday @cam-peggio @camilledove @candlelightniall @captainskyline @carolineesnell @cateycollins @cazza2009 @chaoswrites @chesirehaz @chicha027 @chxosunbound @cinnamoonsworld

taglist reblogs to follow.

DWM MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x dwm!reader #dwm short #dwm #dancing with myself #ambrossart

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badsongpetey · 1 month

Text

The Water Guardian (aka Cryptid Keith AU) Part 7

Keith’s cave is, well, Lance wouldn’t call it homey, but it’s not what he was expecting, whatever that was. Set off to the side of the waterfall, still close but far enough away to avoid the spray that surrounds it, the cave is dry, and warm, and remarkably clean. The stone floor smooth and polished from what looks like decades, maybe even centuries of wear.

A simple wooden table and chairs line up against one of the walls, and an equally simple bed piled with a few old quilts stands in the back. There are no pictures on the walls, but carvings made of wood and stone fill alcoves carved out of the stone walls of the cave itself.

Keith raises his hand and a sphere of bluish white light forms over his palm and rises gracefully to hover near the ceiling, illuminating the space fully. Well, that’s convenient.

Keith walks to the back of the cave, and bends over to open a chest at the foot of the bed. “My books are here.” He says by way of invitation.

It feels odd to be in what is clearly Keith’s home, but Keith seems cool about it, so Lance tries to be nonchalant. “Nice, ah, cave.”

Keith grunts and squats next to the chest, lifting out some of the books within.

Lance leans over. The chest is old, but well cared for. A couple dozen hard cover books are stacked neatly inside, next to some smaller carved wooden boxes, some wrapped in old linens.

Lance glances at the spines of the books he can see: There’s Jane Austen, Dickens, H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Thoreau, Conan Doyle, Mark Twain, Brontë, Lewis Carroll, Bram Stoker. Keith hands Lance a book and he looks down to see it’s an old copy of “Treasure Island”. A really old copy.

He sits down at the small table to examine it. He carefully turns the yellowed pages, not wanting to damage Keith’s prized possessions. This book looks more like an antique than something a person would keep on their nightstand. All the books Keith has look old. Doesn’t look like he has a single author from the 20th century even. Keith said they belonged to his dad, was he some kind of collector?

“Have you read it?” Keith asks him, nodding at the book in front of Lance.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Lance answers, “I think we read it back in 6th or 7th grade. I remember thinking it would be cool to be a pirate.” He smiles.

Keith hums and returns to sorting through his stash.

Lance takes another good look around the space. Now that he’s thinking about it, everything here looks old. And not the normal “this belongs to my parents or grandparents old”, but an “I found this at an estate sale at some haunted old mansion” kind of old. The only things that don’t look like antiques are the carvings of animals and birds that fill the shelves notched into the walls.

They look hand made, which makes sense, it’s not like there’s a mall nearby. Lance picks up a small wooden rabbit from the shelf next to the table. It’s beautiful work, delicate and realistic, looking like it could hop out of his hand at any moment. Keith clearly has other hobbies besides reading.

As he carefully returns the rabbit to its place on the shelf, he notices something he hadn’t before. A small, faded, sepia toned photo of a young couple in a plain sliver frame. Lance lifts it off the shelf and takes a closer look. The couple is dressed in clothing from over a century ago, and posed formally in what looks like a nice living room. The man is handsome and well built, he looks like he’s no stranger to hard work, but has kind eyes. The woman next to him is tall and beautiful, and, fuck, a DEAD RINGER for Keith.

Is this Keith’s mom? Are these his parents? They can’t be, this photo is ancient! But then so are the books, and everything else.

“Keith? Who are these people?” Lance asks, holding out the photo.

Keith glances over, “My parents.”

His parents? But, how…

“What year was this taken?”

Keith shrugs and turns back to the chest.

“You don’t know?”

“What care would I have for human years?” Keith responds without looking up.

Bah, this idiot is FRUSTRATING. But still, if this photo and the books are as old as they look… “Keith, how long have you been here?”

Keith is idly sorting through the books in the chest, clearly avoiding having to look at Lance. “A while.”

Lance huffs in exasperation, “How much of a while?”

“It’s not important.”

“Humor me.”

Keith sighs, “Maybe, ninety turns of the seasons?”

Lance sits back. NINETY YEARS? Keith’s at least ninety years old! He looks no older than Lance. Of course, he’s not a human, and who knows how long a dragon is supposed to live. Forever?

Still it’s a long time to live in this cave all alone. Geez, has he been alone this whole time? No wonder he wanted Lance to come back.

“Has it always just been you here to guard the waterfall?” Lance asks.

“Mostly.” Keith answers softly, still speaking into the chest.

“Did your mom live here too?”

Keith drops the lid of the chest down with a crash, standing abruptly. “You’ve seen the books, so we’re done here.” He spats.

Oh crap, too far. “I, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. I just wanted to get to know you.”

Keith is silent, glaring at the exit, waiting for Lance to get out he supposes.

“I could get you more books. If you want.” Lance offers, hoping Keith takes it as the olive branch it is.

Keith shifts his gaze to Lance. “More books?”

“Well, you can’t think that this is all there is?” Lance chuckles, gesturing at the chest.

Keith looks down, “I don’t think much about it. This is what I have.”

Lance is suddenly overwhelmed with compassion. Hell, poor kid, stuck out here for a century with the same handful of books to keep him entertained.

“Well, yeah!” Lance smiles, “Of course there are more. Thousands more! Look!”

Lance grabs his phone and thumbs quickly to find his book app, bringing up one of the few downloaded books he has and shoves it in Keith’s face.

Keith squints looking confused, then focuses, his eyes growing wider by the second.

“This is a book??” He points to the phone in astonishment.

Lance nods enthusiastically. “Yup!”

Keith blows out an audible breath as he looks again at the phone. “I don’t know this story.”

“There are a lot of stories you don’t know.” Lance laughs. “But I can bring you them.”

Keith’s eyes are impossibly even wider when he looks back at Lance. “You could get books? For me?”

Lance scoffs, “Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a few and I can stop by the library. Seems like you enjoy adventure and fantasy stories, me too, I’ll bring some back next time I come.”

“Next time?” Keith asks, suddenly shy.

Oh lord, this guy… “Yes, next time. I mean, I’ve been a guest in your… cave, I figure we’re friends now.”

“Friends?” Keith repeats warily.

Shit, did he read this wrong? Just when he thought that maybe he was getting the hang of it. “I mean, if you don’t want me to, I don’t have to…”

“No!” Keith practically yells, “I… I want you to. Come back… bring books…” he looks down, “be friends.”

“Friends then.” Lance confirms with a grin.

#klance #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #water guardian au #dragon keith #klance au

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Mrs Dawkins P1-P5

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack x Reader

Rating Sweet AF

Series Mrs Dawkins Series

This is A Wattpad Series mostly I will be posting it here of course in chunks but it is much further ahead and having daily chapter's being released there, so if you can't wait the the series is linked ^

I woke to the typical birds singing in the nest, the nest seated on a lofty branch of the tree outside my bedroom window. I had listened to the newly born baby birds since their hatch only a few days after I arrived now they were age, where flight was soon to be thrust upon them. They must leap unknowingly into the extraordinary world and all its devilish Secrets.

I suppose I pitied the poor baby birds, that they would be forced from the nest they have known their entire lives on the will of another, That they are to be forced away with a loving arm and the familiarity that it is best for all, that they must go onward into this heartless world solitary.

But I knew they couldn't remain in their nest eternally.

The world is about them and the only route left is forward.

I laid in bed, my body knitted and knotted with the cotton sheets of my bed. I listened to the bird's sweet song, as they praised the morning sun. But after a while, I forced myself up as the guilt of being laid in bed only made my stomach sick.

I forced my body from my bed, pushed back the cotton sheets and carefully set my feet on the cold wooden floor. I stepped across from my bedside to the small bassinet where a large jug, sweet bowl, lavender soap and a fresh towel sat ready and waiting, I poured the water from the jug into the bowl and took the soap, I washed my hands intricately making sure to clean my knuckles raw and in between my fingers intensely. I then used my clean hands to scrub my face until my nose and cheeks were sore, once finished I set my soap back in its dish and dried off on my towel.

I looked across my room, even if all of it still felt so new to me. My sweet suite on the second floor of our lovely new house with lavender-painted wood pallet walls that lined my room, my bed in the centre graced with cotton and silks, my wardrobe took up most of my room the whole corner lined with shelves filled with dresses, stockings, jewellery and shoes. My large three-pannel mirror against the wall with the ottoman to the edge, the sweet paper screen painted with lavender flowers to block it from the rest of the room. My vanity was laden with objects such as my brushes, perfume bottles and blushes many of which simply sat in their typical places. and My desk in the centre was laden with paper scattered around, pencils, paints, charcoals and all sorts of other such materials littered about. With a few canvases leant against the leg of the desk where I had yet to find a place to put them.

I did adore my room, even if I had yet to make it my home since we moved here.

I moved across my room and behind my screen, I slipped off my nightie and left it on the small washing basket. I took my stockings and pulled them up my legs to my thighs, I took my bloomers and pulled them up to my waist buttoning them up tight, I took my underdress and slipped it over my shoulders tugging it down to my ankles, I took a pair of shoes and slipped them on not needing to lace them up. I took my corset still laced from yesterday and clipped it on having to breathe in a little to do the last few up but it meant I didn't need someone to lace my corset for me, I walked down my wardrobe and ran my hand across the rail of dresses. I picked out my green dress with a pattern of branches and birds in the fabric, I pulled it out and slipped it on giving it a good adjustment to let the built-in crinoline sit as it should. I did up the few buttons It needed and fixed myself in the mirror not even bothering to do my hair.

"Hello, You." I sighed at my reflection adjusting my red ribbon tied in a bow around my neck.

My bedroom door opened, which revealed the governess of the house whom I had known almost my whole life, She was tall, thin, in a pencil-thin corset, a black shapeless dress her hair pinned back slickly, she stood stiff as a board her back in a position I'm sure could balance four heavy books if needed, Her hand still on my door knob.

"Ma'am! Breakfast is ready." Miss Hardcastle said, but with a sharp uncaring tone almost as if she was ordering me there rather than requesting.

"Yes, Miss." I nodded, so I left my room and she closed my door and followed behind me to take me down to the dining room.

I headed down to the dining room, A large room that faced the window with a large wooden table littered with flowers, the yellow walls littered with paintings, and the chandelier hung over the table. My father sat in his usual seat.

My father was a large man with a head for business, fairly far round and not very tall, in his black suit, red waistcoat and silver pocket watch. He sat there with his large plate loaded with greasy breakfast food. The food loaded almost twice the size of the plate it sat on.

I sat myself in my usual chair, I adjusted my dress as I spoke up "Good Morning Father,"

"Good Morning My sweet," He cooed, "How did you sleep?"

"Very well thank you," I smiled,

My breakfast was brought by the kitchen girl, she set the plate down in front of me with two bits of toast, some marmalade, and some cut-up apples, oranges, and other small fruits.

"Thank you," I smiled to her as she hurried away, I began to eat my breakfast, and I made sure to be slow to make sure it lasted. "What are you going to do today Father?" I asked,

"Well, I have some meetings in port, I need to talk to the damn warehouse clerks, more meetings, more meetings, then I have some organization for your ball, some paperwork, all boring business things. Not for little girls." He said,

"So, you'll be going into town today?"

"I will,"

"Do you think perhaps today I could accompany you?"

"Y/n. You need to stay here my sweet, you're still new to the area, and this place can be dangerous." he explained, "And you have yet to debut. We've been working around the clock for your Ball haven't we Miss Hardcastle?"

"Yes Sir." She nodded,

"We wouldn't want to spoil the reveal of the ball?"

"Please father?" I begged, "I haven't left our house since we arrived, Please Father just for a walk to your meeting that's all I ask."

He glared, a moment the first time he looked up from his breakfast. He stared at me before he looked back down, "What do we think Miss Hardcastle?"

She stiffened herself even more, she glanced at me so I pleaded with her as I gave her my most imploring eyes before she then looked to the ceiling. "She has been very well-behaved, sir. She has done all of her work, and been making good time on her preparations, I believe taking her to town could only potentially drum more interest in her Ball."

"Alright then." he nodded, "That settles that, You shall accompany me but I will escort you everywhere." He said, "Go on, hat, gloves, and parasol."

"Yes Father" I nodded taking my plate to the side to be cleaned and almost bolted out the door to run and get ready beyond excited!

I got my jacket on and made sure it covered me well, I slipped on my white gloves, brushed my hair out and put my hat on my head tying it around my chin and adding a hat pin just in case. I made sure I looked as presentable as possible for my first time out, hiding my ribbon and adding a string of pearls atop my dress.

I scampered to the front door and picked up a parasol that would fit my dress, I headed outside of the house to stand with my father as we waited for the carriage to come around for us.

I was so very excited I hadn't left our house since our arrival, so long on the ship and finally, we were here, I was thrown in a carriage brought here and I hadn't left since. I wanted nothing more than to explore Port Victory, meet new friends, and find little places for tea, cake, and activities as presumably I will be staying here for the rest of my life.

The carriage pulled up so Father helped me to climb inside, and I took my seat. He climbed in after me and sat across from me. Once the carriage began on its way I couldn't prevent my wide smile almost biting my lip in anticipation to see what this place was like.

"You are not to say a word."

"Yes, Father."

"You are not to smile either, it's too willing my sweet"

"Yes, Father."

"You are not to leave my arm, not for a moment." He said, "This place is full of roughians, scoundrels, and vagabonds."

"Yes, Father."

Soon enough the carriage stopped and the moment the door opened I wanted to run and see all there was to see but I waited for my father to climb out and then offer me his hand.

I took it and climbed out holding his arm as a young lady should when being escorted. I put up my parasol hiding myself under it from the aggressive sun. He walked me down the streets and I couldn't help but look at everything all the little shops, the people walking by, the market stalls, the gallows, the sweet little houses, all of it so fascinating. I did as Father asked and stayed silent as I looked at everything I could, he took me to a warehouse by the docks where cargo from ships was kept and stored. He had a meeting or three with various people none of which spoke to me at all. I took note of these men being the first ones I had seen but there was little remarkable about them.

Once finished the meetings, Father walked me back through town to return to the carriage and head home, I had hoped for more but I was still thrilled.

I slowed a little as I noticed a man heading our way, he didn't seem to move out of the way politely just heading straight for us until he bumped into us.

"Ohh do forgive me sir-" he said before he pushed through us breaking apart our arms. But as he did I felt this hard tug as my pearl necklace was forcibly grabbed by his dirty hands and ripped off me, it hurt as he broke my clasp and rushed away

"Father my pearls!" I gasped

"You dirty rotten scoundrel! Thief!" My father yelled as he began to give chase, I picked up the skirt of my dress and hurried after him too "Guards! Thief! Catch that man!" My father yelled but quickly he ran out of breath and stamina, So I simply picked my dress up higher and bolted after the thief as quickly as I could "NOO! Y/n!" Father yelled but I just did my best to keep up with the man, luckily he was aged and sick, so I could keep up with him in a dress and corset.

The thief turned down an alley but I followed him, seeing him opening a door at the bottom, "Return my necklace immediately!" I demanded as I managed to get close to grab my necklace still in his hand, we tussled with it back and forth for a few seconds before he backed far enough behind the door to slam it on my hand!

My hand crushed in the door violently, enough to make me scream and hold my hand close as it ached and brunt with pain, my necklace broke in the door sending pearls tumbling to the dusty dirt.

"AHhhhhhhh...." I complained

"Y/n! My sweet! what did I tell you!" My father snapped as he caught up to me "My god your hand! we must hurry, we must take you to the hospital immediately!" He said as he held me in his arms and ushered me back to the carriage.

My father rushed me to the hospital in the carriage, As soon as we arrived he ushered me inside and the nurse took us to a small room to wait. I sat on the metal-framed bed in the small wood-lined room, I held my hand to my chest as it throbbed with pain. My father stood in the corner his face a wash with fear.

After a while of waiting, the door opened and I was taken aback a moment, The doctor walked in wearing some dirty brown shoes, a pair of brown trousers with darker brown lines to create almost a faint attempt at plaid, a white shirt with long billowing sleeves that cinched at his wrists, the shirt... an odd grey washed out colour that old white clothes go after time, especially the arms darker and clearly washed more than anything else, He wore an old tattered green tie around his neck tucked into a blue slightly textured waistcoat, done up tightly around his rather thin body, he had a fluffy head of blonde and brown hair most of it pushed over to one side, dark chocolate eyes and a youthful sly smile, that sort of smile young boys get when they've gotten away with something. I had to admit... He was handsome.

He came in and shut the door and smiled at my father, "If you don't mind waiting outside Sir."

"Yes of course," my father nodded as he quickly left the room.

And this doctor turned his attention to me. He stopped just in front of me and looked at me from the tip of my toe to the top of my head before he shook himself awake and a smile cracked on his lip, "Forgive me, Dr Dawkins, Miss?"

"Miss Everset." I smiled "I would uhh but-" I began as I showed my hand

"Of course, now let's have a look at that hand." He said and he offered his hand sweetly

"I shouldn't my father He'll-"

"Miss Everset. I'm a doctor." He reminded

I nodded and offered my hand carefully,

"Now I need to remove your glove is that alright?"

"Yes Doctor," I nodded

"Lovely, nice and slow." he reassured as he carefully removed my glove and sat it beside me on the bed "Ohhh that is a nasty one." he said "How'd it happen?" he asked as he moved his hands softly and slowly over my own checking my hand for various damage, he was so gentle it barely hurt and his hands were so callus and rough. It almost made me giggle to think that I sat here and for the very first time a man touched my bare skin.

"I was chasing a thief. He stole my pearls so I gave chase."

"Why didn't your father?"

"He tried. He's not so good at running."

"Because of his eye?"

I was shocked as he said that, looking up at him, my father had a bad eye injury that he gained many years ago it caused him trouble with running, reading and other sight-related things but it was so healed I had never known people who didn't already know about it to notice it let alone mention it, "I uhh Yes, people don't often know that,"

"I'm a doctor, you notice these things." He smiled,

"I suppose so. But yes I gave chase and the thief shut the door on my hand"

"Ohh dear, you poor thing." he cooed "Were they important to you, your pearls?"

"No, no. I just didn't want to lose them."

"I see." he nodded, "Well, good news nothing broken. you are going to have one hell of a bruise down the centre of your palm where the door hit, I will get the nurse to give you some bruise lotion to take home with you, follow the instructions and it should go away in a few days a week at the most. any issues with the bruising or your fingers in two weeks come back and we'll have a more intense look without all the swelling alright?" he explained and I nodded "Good, and as for the pain, Ice cream and hot baths." He winked,

"I will, thank you doctor uh?" I blushed rather embarrassed I forgot,

"Dawkins, Dr Dawkins." He smiled,

"Thank you, Dr Dawkins."

"You're very welcome," He smiled, took my hand and gave it a soft polite kiss which made me blush even more "You're a very brave girl, chasing after a thief."

"Ohh" I blushed, "Brave or foolish."

"My experience they tend to be the same, have a nice day Miss Everset."

"You too Dr Dawkins." I smiled,

He nodded and headed out back to his other hospital work, I took my glove and pulled my hand close to my chest again doing my best to... Breathe.

I sat in the carriage as it bounced and bumped along back to our home, My hand clutched to my chest still, blush across my cheeks. My father looked at me and chuckled.

"Yes, father?"

"Only once in my life have I seen someone so happy on the way home from a hospital?"

"oh? When?"

"You're mother. When we brought you home." He smiled, "You seem very happy, you haven't stopped smiling since we left the hospital."

"I haven't" I admit,

"Any particular reason you're so happy?"

I knew I couldn't tell him the real reason I was smiling, "I'm just happy to have seen town father, Happy I got time out of the house."

"Good, perhaps I'll take you out more often." He smiled,

"I'd like that very much, father." I smiled,

Soon enough the carriage stopped so Father climbed out and offered his hand, I took it and climbed out as we headed inside the house. Miss Hardcastle was there waiting for me so she took me to my room to swap parts of my outfit back to a more homely way.

"Did you enjoy the trip, Ma'am?"

"I did, it was lovely."

"Such a shame about your injury, we shall have to be careful during sewing time." She said,

"Yes, yes... I uhh I don't know, I think all things have a silver lining."

"And what lining could this have ma'am?" She asked

"...Well, I got to see the hospital." I smiled trying to hide my truth

"Yes well, we shall begin our day in the music room when you're ready," she said before she left my room

I found myself unable to stop myself from sitting at my desk and got a fresh piece of parchment, my favourite ink fountain pen and I began to do an ink sketch humming and muttering to myself as I drew the sculpting lines and valleys.

"Dr Dawkins... Ummmm Dr Dawkins" I muttered barely being aware I was doing it kicking my feet back and forth under my chair as I drew, after a good while I stopped my pen and looked at the blue ink sketch of the sweet doctor "Hummmm," I smiled at it but I hid it away and fixed myself before I head to the music room.

#tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs smut #tbs #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #artfuldodger #artful dodger #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins

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hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months

Text

Modern 2005 house right on the lake in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire. 7bds, 7.5ba - $12.5M.

Very long hallways. Slightly disappointed that these upper windows overlooking the water are in the hallway. What a perfect statue for a shotgun house, too, b/c the rooms are as straight as an arrow.

The front area of the living room has panoramic views.

What a massive area to furnish and this furniture is so dull. There should be something high on the wall to draw the eye upward and bring the wall down.

The large monolithic fireplace is double-sided and on the opposite side of the living room is the dining area. Love the built-in shelving, but I would like it a little taller with an added sliding library ladder and an interesting background of either contrasting paint or wallpaper.

Chef's kitchen has a bit of a mid-century modern vibe.

I now like green b/c I'm so sick of houses that are devoid of color, I like it as the new neutral. At least it gives this beige room some pop.

This house is very long. Look at this hall.

The primary bedroom faces the water, has room for a full living room set, plus an office area.

The en-suite is very Zen. Look at the wooden tub setup. You can be buried in that thing.

Large secondary bedroom has a good view and a door to the outside.

As you know, every rich person's home must have a home gym, even if they only go in to dust it off.

Deck along the back of the home has a hot tub, and overlooks Lake Winnipesaukee.

Oversized sauna fits at least 4 butts.

Lower level patio.

Plenty of room to house your boats.

Property measures 6.2 acres.

#modern architecture #houses #house tours #home tour

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roguelov · 1 year

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Crimson Stained Petals (Ch. 2)

Summary: Set in the 1880s, rumors and mysteries swirled around a quaint town, mostly about a lord tucked far into the woods. Arriving in town, you could not deny your curiosities, but you were not here to stay. Or so you thought. Low on funds, and a job for a live-in servant advertised in the paper, you now found yourself in the home of Lord Morpheus - the source of all rumors. Passions and tensions will grow. Questions will be answered, but may come at a hefty price. And a promise may be broken. But, is Lord Morpheus, and those few residents, truly as scary as they seem?

Words Count: ~3.4k

Reader: Neutral (unspecified now, however fem leaning)

Warnings: Minor angst (hints of Morpheus’s past), mutual pinning, some fluff, hints of bloodlust

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

After a week of working in the manor, you quickly found routine in your new life. It was far easier than anticipated, although somewhat tiring at points. And despite exploring the manor, you still tended to become lost or forgetful where certain rooms were. It was massive to say the least, but you adored the architecture, the different colors and styles of each room, and the obvious love - even if slightly dusty due to negligence - poured into it. Two rooms in particular captured your interest and attention: the upstairs library, and the sunroom.

The sunroom was magical. The glass - a soft sea green - dome roof sparkled in any and all lighting. On sunny days, it was as if the heavens rained down on this secret cove. Plants of all colors and variety outlined the room from vibrant dark green ferns - nearly an envious green - to signature staple of the manor’s passionate red roses as well as strong and proud sunflowers, delicate lilacs, and the intricate petals of the blushing pink carnations. Fern leaves as large as dinner plates bent towards the doorways like curtains. You could not help but imagine you were an explorer traversing the jungle as you entered.

In the center, a couch, two chairs, and a table were set out. However, there was a very obvious empty space for furniture to be pushed aside. The true beauty of the room was it could double as a ballroom if needed. You could see where a musician could sit, you could imagine a dozen people dancing in unison, you could feel the air crackle with potential energy. When you walked the pristine tile floor sang with every step of your shoe, heels clacked and echoed like a chorus; imagining a group of people in here, and oh how the room would harmonize.

The library, on the other hand, was quaint and far less grandiose compared to the sunroom. Yet, it held its own type of magic, one of comfort and warmth. It was draped in rich dark browns, glowing oranges of the sun and lanterns, and overall warm tones. The walls had built-in shelves and overflowed with books. A single thin window with a nook to sit and read by sunlight was nestled between two shelves. Two long wooden tables with chairs were placed in the room, almost more of studying than reading comfortably.

The air in the library was calmer, and gentle like an escape, or a brief pause on life. If you strolled over to the collection of books, most were published from Morpheus’s company ‘The Dreamer’s Palace’. Which wasn’t too surprising, but the library held many other books from the popular to the unknown. Every genre filled the shelves: drama, contemporary, romance, horror, fantasy, mystery, nonfiction, mythology, and poetry. You had worlds at your fingertips and each of them called to you.

When you had time, you would eventually borrow a book, with Morpheus’s permission of course. Maybe you could take the book and lounge in the sunroom, now that sounded like a lovely idea.

However, you supposed there was another place besides the sunroom and library to entertain you and your thoughts. You desperately wished to explore the ground, especially the maze. The rose maze enthralled you. The hedges must be ten feet tall, barring all from sneaking a single glance in. The full, perfect lush red roses filled the hedges and dazzled in the sunlight while somehow seemingly glowed in the moonlight. With the moon above, they tempted you like some Greek tragedy. The maze was your labyrinth. Maybe a monster lurked among the roses, maybe you would become lost and lose your sense of self, or maybe it was simply just a maze.

One day.

One day, you would run freely through the hedges and happily lose yourself amongst them.

Late in the morning, Morpheus had requested some tea. If it wasn’t in the morning after what you expected a long night, then he requested afternoon tea for one last boost to finish the day. Light seemed to always shine under the crack of his door. His footsteps creaked along the home constantly even as you laid still in bed.

Maneuvering up the stairs, you carefully balanced a kettle and a tea cup with a saucer. Stepping onto the second floor, you immediately veered left. Morpheus’s study was the first door. You knocked, announcing yourself. His reply was muffled, but allowed you in.

Opening the door, Morpheus was hunched over his desk. Stacks of paper covered his desk, with his pen scratching away editing and making revision notes on a new manuscript. A dying fire crackled as embers burned a reddish orange hue casting the room in a radiating warmth. The curtains were opened showing off the dreary morning. Rain tapped against the window, adding to the ambiance.

You beelined for Morpheus. You efficiently, as possible, set up his tea in the small corner space free of papers. Morpheus - who had been watching not just since you walked in, but since you first arrived - wondered about something that had been bothering him for a few days. The scratching of his pen seized, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye. “May I ask you a question?”

You paused as you set up his tea. It was one of the few other times he addressed you, besides your first interaction and occasionally calling for tea. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you poured his tea. “Of course, sir.”

He laid down his pen, and turned his head to address you. His eyes - an enchanting pale blue in such dim lighting - locked with yours. “You are not afraid of me.”

You stepped back from him, having finished your assigned task. The kettle left besides his cup if he wished to have more later. You folded your hands in front of you with the empty tray in your hands. His sentence tossed over and over in your head. You frowned slightly in thought, “That is not a question.”

The corner of his lips twitched upward. “You are correct, apologies. I suppose I was more inquiring about your opinion.”

“On what?”

“Myself, and said rumors that circulate the manor.”

You didn’t need time to think. Most people warned you of this place whether directly or indirectly. “The townspeople have their beliefs and I have mine.”

“So you have no care for the matter?”

“I can form my own opinions.” You cocked your head quizzically, “I’m sorry, but did Lucienne not inform you of my answer? She asked a similar question during the interview.”

“She did, but I wish to hear it from you especially given you have been staying with us for more than over a week now.” He twisted his body in his chair, facing you directly. He gave you his full undivided attention. “So what are your opinions? What do you think of the rumors?”

You paused, considering his question. “Do you want my honest opinion, sir?”

You had your opinions. Ones that had been slowly formulating since your arrival, ones that may be an unpleasant truth to hear.

“I do.” He saw the hesitation written plainly on your face. “You can be blunt.”

You nodded, and sighed releasing any tension. “If you wish -“ you cleared your throat - “the way I see it you revel in said rumors. You can easily dispel them by ingraining yourself more into society, but you don’t. You do the donations, you have the well liked bookshop, but you do not show your face. Either you isolate yourself to protect yourself, or because you believe you deserve it - deserve the isolation.”

Morpheus hummed, utterly fascinated by your answer. “Truly? And what do you think? Why would I sever my connection to society?”

Your eyes dragged up and down over his body - you were dissecting him. Morpheus noted how a change came over you. You were not a servant, head bowed, but an equal with a sharp eye. You were clever, far more clever than you let on. A mask had momentarily slipped. “Because you deserve it or so you believe.”

He nodded. You may have indulged a mere facet of his curiosity, but somehow stirred more within this one conversation. He turned back to his work, “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Is there anything else you need, sir?” You smiled, and your tone suggested a hint of teasing, “Any other of my opinions you wish to know?”

His smile was hidden from you. “No, thank you.”

“Of course.” You bowed and swiftly left.

“And do not feel frightened to share your honesty.” He spoke the next sentence softly, whispering, “I enjoy it.”

You paused at the door. A faint flutter hummed in your chest. “If you wish, sir.”

I do, he thought.

You turned your head, glancing back once more. He had returned to his work. Your mind thought back on the conversation, on Morpheus’s self imposed isolation. You opened your mouth, only to quickly close it and simply left. As the door softly clicked shut, Morpheus put his head into his hands.

A mortal.

A foolish mortal who had unknowingly walked into the lion’s den. His thirst rose when you walked by, and the smell of you now imbued his home. Before he remembered a time when his thirst could be quelled for months at a time, unbothered or unaffected by hunger. But now as you freely roamed his halls, he could barely go a few days without feeling its intense and paralyzing effects. The taste of human blood has not touched his lips in nearly a century.

Idiot, he thought. Why did I allow this?

“I believe it would do you some good sir,” Lucienne pressed. She had approached her lord, proposing to introduce a servant, more so a cleaning servant, into the manor. Or more accurately cornered him in his study.

Morpheus huffed under his breath. “Lucienne, I respect you and your opinions, however, this is ridiculous and out of the question.”

“Lord Morpheus, you need to try more or dare we have another fiasco such as the last manor.”

Ah, yes, how could he forget.

He had gotten complacent in his solitude. He kept to himself, and worked on new stories that continued to be sent in from all over. He only cared about his work, and nothing else.

No. That was incorrect.

No, he was purposely drowning himself in it; all to forget the painful heartache. No, he had not gotten complacent in solitude, he had gotten complacent in his endless grief. Let the people gossip, he bitterly thought. Let them believe in the monster. He did not care for his world were these dingy walls with the ghost roaming amongst them.

But, a strange man who lived on the outskirts of town stirred vile imaginations. After a decade and possibly longer of living - in what Morpheus ignorantly believed to be peace - the townspeople charged one night forcing everyone to flee.

He had to rebuild.

He had to remake himself in this new town. He had hoped his donations would soothe the townspeople, but mortals were weary of newcomers and indulged in their superstitions far too often.

Even if their intuitions were right most of the time.

A tap on the window broke Morpheus out of his thoughts, his memories. Through the haze of the night, a small black mass was perched on the window sill. Morpheus wordlessly strolled over and opened the window. A bird, a raven specifically, swooped in and landed on the desk.

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” Morpheus asked, facing the raven.

The raven shuffled, his talons clacked against the wood. “Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Merv is asking for something for the pain again. He says his supply is almost out.”

Morpheus’s features softened, a miniscule change. “Okay, tell Merv I will send for more immediately.”

Matthew nodded, but he did not move.

“Is there something else you need?” Morpheus asked, raising his eyebrow.

Matthew sighed, sinking a bit. “I may or may not have been listening to yours and Lucienne’s conversation.”

Morpheus’s lips thinned, not angered Matthew was listening - it was nothing new - but because he knew Matthew would side with Lucienne. “And what do you think of the matter then?”

“Well,” he drawled out, “I have been visiting the town a bit, and some of the people have begun to talk and they’re not too … happy.”

Morpheus barely contained his eye roll. “I have done all I can to appease them, if they want to make speculations then let them. I don’t harm them in any capacity.”

It was true. His diet these days consisted solely of animals.

“Maybe an appearance at the bookshop then,” Lucienne suggested. “But, I still urge you to hire someone. If others see someone unharmed in your care then it would lessen the problem.”

“I will not bring a stranger into my home just so mortals can stop gossiping.”

“If not for you then for us, for the manor. We already had to run once.”

Morpheus frowned.

Lucienne cautiously stepped forward. “You opened your door to me - for Mervyn, and Matthew - you brought in a stranger once before.”

“That was different. This will be a mortal, Lucienne.”

“And do you not trust yourself, or do you not want a repeat?”

Morpheus’s shoulders tensed. An intense, chilling, glare settled into his eyes. His eyes glowed ominously like a feral animal. “Lucienne, I will ask you once to not bring that up again.”

Lucienne stepped back, but did not look away. She held her ground in a way. “Apologies, sir, but I do not want to find a new place so soon.”

Matthew chirped up, disliking the heavy tension in the room. He flapped his wings to turn all the attention onto him. “And it would be nice for you, boss. The manor has been gathering dust, so it would be good for all of us, right?”

Morpheus closed his eyes then exhaled slowly. Opening his eyes, they had returned to a normal shade. “Fine.”

“What?” Matthew muttered, stunned.

“Bring someone in, do what you must.” He turned his back. “If we can survive another decade here peacefully then do so. I don’t want to start again so quickly.”

“Of course, sir, thank you.” Lucienne bowed her head and left as Matthew swooped after her.

Look at all the good it has done, Morpheus thought.

Morpheus was confined to these walls with you lurking around. You were haunting him, and you reminded him of -

He shook away those memories. He had a new ghost in his home and he had to deal with this unfortunate reality. This wasn’t about him, this was about Lucienne, Matthew, and Mervyn. They were lucky last time to escape before the home burned, but luck always ran out. If people discovered the truth, if they came in the night unheard, he couldn’t forgive himself for anything that would happen to his friends - his family.

This was his family unlike the one born from blood.

Meanwhile as you strolled away from Morpheus’s study, your thoughts were tangled together. He was odd. Polite, yes. But, odd. He created a wedge between him and most; a wedge you clearly saw. In the short time you were living here, it was becoming obvious who Lord Morpheus was: a tortured soul. But, why? What drove him to this state? If you were to continue to live here, you would find out.

Curiosity was powerful, and you had your reasonings to do so.

Taking the tray to the kitchen, you once again passed by another oddity in the manor: the plain wooden door under the stairs. Earlier in your adventures of the manor, you tried to open it to no avail.

“I wouldn’t keep trying if I were you.” You whirled around - panicked you had been caught - and thankfully only saw Lucienne. She smiled, a joking smile, at your reaction. Her eyes darted to the lock door. “It leads to the basement where the plumbing goes.”

You frowned, disappointed.

“Sorry, I know it’s not as wondrous as you might think.” She strolled forwards, eyes kept on the door. “But I assure you, it’s not pleasant down there. It’s damp and dark with old pipes.”

Her eyes flickered over, locking with yours. She peered over her glasses to ensure she looked at you directly. ‘Don’t’ was all her eyes said.

“I suppose the wonders of plumping is something I’m not too keen about,” you chuckled lightly.

Her smile softened, and laughed along with you. “No, I don’t think most are. Now, if you excuse me, I was going to get a drink.”

She skirted by you towards the kitchen. Once, she was down the hall and out of sight, your eyes swiveled back to the door. Only one thought ran through your mind: she’s lying. You pressed your hand to the door. In your chest, deep within your bones, something hummed on the other side.

Stepping back, you searched and no one was around. If not today, but one day you will see what was behind that door. A voice told you to be cautious in your curiosity, but to also not let it die out. Trust your gut. And your gut needed the door to be opened to reveal all its secrets.

You paused, running your hand over the grain of the wood. The hum still called out. Similar to how you swore to uncover the secrets of a Morpheus, this door fell under it as well. This manor reeked of secrets and lies. It did not frightened you, not in the least. It compelled you. And the rumors only spurred your thirst for knowledge.

But, today was not the day. All of this required a touch of patience.

A skill you honed over the years.

Brushing past, you made your way into the kitchen dropping off the tray. Glancing out the window, the late rainy morning reminded you of all the hours you still had left in the day. You sighed.

Now, what should I do?

The rest of the day you decided to busy yourself with cleaning the kitchen. Most of the appliances were new, and strangely did not seem to be used as frequently since some dust had collected on them, much like the rest of the manor. You scrubbed the cabinets and the floor, cleaned dishes and silverware, and threw away any rotted food - which was surpassingly little. The kitchen nearly sparkled by the end of your work, and luckily the day had passed between all of it.

You retired for the night and drew a well deserved and needed bath. You soaked for almost an hour, letting your skin prune and your thoughts wander: thoughts of the manor, thoughts of Lucienne, thoughts of the mysterious gardener, thoughts of Morpheus, and thoughts of your past and life now.

You sighed, sinking into the water until it barely touched your nose.

Here was a new start with new promises while the past still loomed heavily over your shoulders. No, you truly couldn’t start anew until the past was settled. You knew this, and you were constantly reminded of it.

With the water now cold, you decided to get out. You dried off and pulled on your night clothes. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you passed the writing desk.

You paused.

Changing direction from your cozy bed, you veered to the desk. You needed to write a letter, one you had forgotten - and may have purposely neglected - to write. You plopped down into the creaky wooden chair and began to write a letter. Amongst your initial search of the desk, you were surprised, and thankful, to find paper and ink already inside the drawer.

You had an old promise to keep.

You pulled out a paper and addressed it to your uncle. An uncle who raised you and taught you many things. An uncle who you spoke exclusively in letters since leaving his home nearly over a decade ago. You loved him dearly, and hoped maybe one day after your journey of self discovery, and possibly after truly settling down, you would visit him again.

Under a candlelight, you wrote about the past week. You spoke of your new job, your new lord, and the others who lived here - even if you spoke only to one. You spoke how this job could be the one, the one to change your life. You told him he was still always in your thoughts, and wondered how he was doing since his new retired life per his last letter. You smiled down at the letter, and signed it. You neatly folded it, and tucked it into an envelope to send at the earliest convenience.

Maybe Lucienne could take it to the post office for you, or maybe you’ll make a visit into town.

The decision will come later, for now you need to sleep.

#the sandman #the sandman au #morpheus #dream of the endless #vampire!morpheus #vampire!dream #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #vampire!morpheus x reader #vampire!dream x reader #fem!reader

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