#i love them your honor and here is this sketch one of my best friends in the world made me and everyone i love is so talented and i wish i | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

headkiss · 1 year

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give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

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You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“‘S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

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mewpangxin · 11 months

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—🎈WRITERS AND ARTISTS APPRECIATION POST🧸— Contents: I'm being quite expressive AXCHOL-

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @the-v-lociraptor

Ayo, Raps, you are incredibly awesome, I would be down to know about your yuusona, an enthusiast Riddle fan I can simply sense it. Classic choice 😌! I have seen glimpses of you chatting with Ceru and it's only a few crumbs and holy, your brainrot has me invested about your oc lore and background. If we talk more together then I could rant longer---

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @twistedtalking / (Already sent.)

I gotta say, your concept is unique, I commend you for keeping the characters as accurate as the source material your best as a fellow newer twst writer. Love your incorrect quotes, your ramblings and your humor within the fics you do too. You're doing fantastically and I'm here to cheer you!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @suiseisyojo / (Already sent.)

Your headcanons and stories are magnificent, Shye 🥺✨ I feel there's an air of being so well-put, something that when I look, it's like a fairytale with many wondrous moments happening inside and how you display is unprecedented, it's one of my favorites. Your characterization on the boys had me amazed when I go over it to study how it came to be. I love the header and fonts you have ♥️ it's a line with color like pink or black I suppose 🍬

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @ceruleancattail /(Already sent.)

Let me think how I'll break it down into words, your stories are as if they are cotton candies, tarts, so picture yourself getting thrown into a dream that has scenery so wonderful that you don't want to ever wake up from. In truth, anything sinister is hiding beneath that welcoming grace, the inhabitants there just won't let you leave💕 Your writing is both a paradise and can be nightmare depending on the will of your hands.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @kurukuryu / (Already sent.)

When I think about your art, it's as if I'm at a cafe ♥︎ where I can smell a lot variety of sweets with dozens of grand aesthetics paintings! Your sketches are marshmallows, I want to gobble them up honestly <33 they are precious, made me melt on my mind too🌷 I like seeing you talking about everything in general, your yume, ocs, literally anything. And I hope I can be a good friend to you ☕️ˊˎ·˚ ༘

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @cxlemon / @cxsinesis

I have to say, your portrayals are ornate and euphemistic to look and read at. In my opinion, the imagery, metaphors, how you deliver had me think that it's not just standard actions. Makes me wonder how many years and efforts did it take you to polish your vocabularies and style. Because it's an art and a masterpiece. Other nsfw fics highlights more on the behavior part, that's great too but there's loftiness in your themes and narration. You gave me inspiration on what I might do🥺

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @kunehori

Your illustrations are hypnotizing, it's as if I'm at the ocean, listening to seagulls chirping, it's peaceful, and I feel so happy and smile like a moron when I saw you on my dash. You can draw and devise texts to form a whole universe with the tip of your brush and on papers. It's fluffy. Beautiful. You captured my attention to your ideas and words. I'm speechless and honored you're here, Ari. (Ty for being a pal on my main too andgjshdheb.)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @cupids-chamber

When I visualize about the imparting, it leaves butterflies in my stomach, it's so melodious to my ears, I would never get bored by your writing because it's like I'm in a land of ethereal with spells and myths. You have stolen my sight and mind. I'm enamored to whatever you described in the fable. You have motivated me to broaden my perspectives on that fanfics are frankly precious to me.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @blues824

YOUR DILIGENCE IS ADMIRABLE. You did for a lot of fandoms in your account, ranging from anime to even webtoons, you must be experienced on what you're doing, absolutely no doubt on it. And ahem, if you ever have a side blog, lemme notice, I'll be the first to follow you on it because you're amazing. Like seriously, I meant my praise 🍰

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @siphoklansan

Gurl, you have the most delicious abilities to craft things. I hope you will get excellent scores on tests by the way, rooting for you all the way there. I love how you transform our Thai culture and adapted it into your comic panels, it's truly refreshing because I'm very much immersed to when you verbalized it.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @oepionie

It's official that you are one of my favorites. Your headcanons, drabbles, and fics are poetic. They are what grasped my heart, had me blush and squeal to myself whenever I turned around to scrutinize them. Kind of like how it's luring me into the rabbit hole where Alice has once fallen into a dark abyss. To the unknown and it's going to be adventurous 🌻

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @treytheslay

I eat up your yandere and dark contents, especially if it's about my fav twst characters. Looking forward to the series and what you will plan in your blog. I'm weak to your prompts because I am so fond and curious on what type you will brew up for us to consume next. Will it be angst? Heartbreaking?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @miinprn /Not related in twst fandom.

I have been a mutual with you a long time on twt, ever since tog and etc, your doodles and personality is just so comforting to be with and I adore how you color and draw your portraits, they are super pretty. Never stop being yourself, okay? I will always be here for you and encourage you to your goal🪴

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For @hxjikonn

I am feral for your literature dear Haji, god tier stuff right there, I'm telling you 100% because I'm nuts for your imagination and snippets you have. I am totally fine with you being on hiatus as well. Drink a lot of water, have a great break as you look after yourself in reality and managing your life<3

#twst spotlight #tumblr appreciation #artists on tumblr #mewpangxin rambling #blogs recommendations #writers on tumblr #—reblogs

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vambe00027 · 5 months

Text

First of all. Clarification:

This is not intended to "ruin the community" they are just ships and for the alien who is watching this... It's called Rarepair

To avoid hate comments, you can skip

I CLARIFY THAT NONE OF THE SHIPS THAT I WILL SHOW IS PROSHIP/COMSHIP NOR IS VERIFIED BY THE CREATOR

You get characters that did not interact, some did, also characters of different races, robots, legos, etc.

I clarify again that the content is not proven to be illegal! Therefore it cannot be considered PROSHIP

ִֶָ . ָ࣪ ˑ ֗ ִ ˑ ִ ֗

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱

˗ˏˋᯤ´ˎ˗

Well, you might be wondering what this is about? Mainly non-canon ships, some rarepairs and some very rare ones FROM UNIKITTY

For now, we will not talk about the ones I invented (the healthy ones for now) no ship has fanarts... So I dedicated myself to making some of them myself

Good. Begin! (The list is messy, I love all the top ships equally)

˗ˏˋᯤ´ˎ˗

The first ship I'll show you may have crossed your mind, or maybe not. For now we don't have the name of the ship, but if you want to give me a little help, tell me privately (I have no idea what the names of the ones shared here are called)

˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. FLAMURTLE X OWLMANDER

Honestly, until now I have not seen any fanfic, fanart, where they talk about them or they simply appeared together. They are very unrecognizable, underrated and so on. That's why here I show you a loose sketch of these 2!

The explanation why they would be a beautiful couple in the series would be like this:

Compared to everything, Eagleator has no principles of being a good enemy. Why? The short they had on screen together did not show balance.

On the other hand, they did not last several years as enemies, although I will not deny that Eagleator is a very good enemy. I will deny that it is better than Owlmandor

Now I will explain again, Eagleator compared to Owlmandor does not have the balance that the two of them have, it was demonstrated more than 1 time that Flamurtle beats up Eagleator, EAGLEATOR ONLY BEATS HER WHEN HE ARE ALLYING WITH HIM ENEMY (hawkodile)

So... Owlmandor manages to hit Flamurtle at least 3 times, he has the skills to be her BEST enemy. Eagleator enjoys fighting with her, but she's not a better enemy partner than Owlmandor, that's my point.

And now, leaving off talking about Eagleator (the only purpose I mention it is for the ship), the two of them have history, unknown, but history together.

They have a past, possibly years of enemies, and this could be a great lesbian ship.

Again. Because compared to all of Flamurtle's interactions, she is the only one honored to have a past with her.

˗ˏˋᯤ´ˎ˗

Well, let's move on to the next ship (I didn't invent this one, I clarify)

˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. BIMFEE (bimbom x fee bee)

I have no idea if this ship has any other name better than this. Well reasons:

Well, this ship cannot be named canon. But if their friendship can be They usually appear in the background together, even in one episode they are cheerleaders from the same team.

Their personalities are opposite, but they remained friends in the chapters, appearing together.

Considered a couple? Why?

Because they just seem to be very close, also the aforementioned. For some, it tends to be cute to see two opposite people together, considering them a couple, so don't think it's strange.

˗ˏˋᯤ´ˎ˗

(You have already seen this through my tweets, on different apps)

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ ˖ ࣪ ִֶָ ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ GROOVEMATOR/DECIGROOVE (groovetron x decimator)

(I collect my own art from this ship)

Horrible short explanation: they had the opportunity to appear together in some chapter, yes.

I refer to the last image, if you notice in the original there is Unikitty WITH THE SAME DECIMATOR GLASSES. And Puppycorn with THE SAME GLASSES OF GROOVETRON. Yes, the ship lacks foundations, but the only foundation I have is that they had a 20% chance of having an interaction, JUST A LITTLE MUCH.

Elsewhere, the palettes they share with null, such as yellow, black, green, yes and also medium purple and dark blue.

They have things in common apart from that, their rivalry with the main protagonists, Groovetron: richard, Decimator: hawkodile

They are only a little similar in design (but I am not the same) the gloves they have (like "dog collar")They both wear cool glasses, if you think about it a little, these 2 would get along well. Just give them a few weeks

AND IT IS NOT CONFIRMED THAT THEY ARE BROTHERS, I have not seen any tweet from them that is not mine. Not even from the creator. They never talk about them.

˗ˏˋᯤ´ˎ˗

(Next)

˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚.CECIL X MOJO NINJA

I'm sick in the head, don't say it, I know.

Now Gost, what excuse will you invent to ship these 2?

They are Ninjas... Their color palette doesn't look bad together, they would make a great team joining forces... I don't know, it's very complicated for me to decide why a RAREPAIR is good (just for me...)

Well, last and least is RACHEL X RICHARD (richael)

I'm convinced there's no need to debate this one, it's perfect, just not canon. And did they have an interaction? I couldn't say that (no) I only look at her but I never talk to her.

Sooo weird richard, and coward

(ya no puedo publicar imagenes...)

(Sorry for the bad spelling, my only excuse is that I'm trying to integrate into the English fandom)

#unikitty #ships #unikittyships #unikitty rarepairs #unikittycecil #unikittyflamurtle #unikittyowlmandor #unikittymojoninja #fee bee unikitty #feebeeunikitty #unikittyfeebee #bimbomunikitty #groovetronunikitty #decigrooveunikitty #decimatorunikitty #rachelunikitty #unikittyrichard #richard unikitty

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kiisaes · 2 years

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Hey kisa! I hope you have a wonderful day and I looove your arts and sketches!

I read your post about queerness in Asia and of the bkdk dynamic, it settled at the back of my head and really just starting to marinate itself into something. Sometimes I wake up and couldn't feel anything about bkdk being real or canon at all even though facts are just right there in my face. I really do love bkdk, but I felt so true of your words on queer Asians that I couldn't see all those fan contents of bkdk someday being canon. Like, most of them didn't sit right with me and it's so hard to find one that represents queerness in Asia correctly (because bakugou and Deku are indeed Japanese=Asians).

I don't know why I reach out to you but I just wanna say, your post resonated with me a lot. I'm Asian and I found out I'm queer in my 16s. Here, being queer isn't like a world-breaking news or people will hate on you cuz you're different, but it's the community sense that makes queer people stay quiet and humble. Idk how to explain myself but it's true that even when we found out our gender/sexuality, most of us tend to prefer blending in with society rather than standing out and be proud of our identity (it's for various reasons like you mentioned, for family's namesake, for friends', even for strangers).

About bkdk, in my honest opinion, standing on Horikoshi's viewpoint and trying to understand his creating ideas with the consideration of a whole Asian community behind him, I cannot see bkdk kissing if they were to end up being endgame. They might chose to be a pair of queer platonic best buddies who are the most intimate and closest person to each other and no one else can take that place in each other's heart. Their dynamics might stay the same but they'll always have each other's backs. They might hold hands occasionally or be more touchy with each other than with others 'cuz that's ultimately where their dynamics and relationship lead up to in the whole story. They don't have to declare that they love each other or establish a new form of relationship and that's okay. Because for me, that's how being queer and being quiet and being Asian is. You get to be yourself proudly, but you don't have to yell it to the world to be recognized and feel validated. It's ok to be humble and still be proud.

Thanks kisa for wording out my feelings and thoughts in a much coherent way. I do think some Asians(not queer people) have a strange way at viewing lgbt+ because it's the western stereotypical concepts of the community that is more drilled into their minds. Even my parents sometimes forgot that I'm queer and thought that was a phase lol.

(sorry for ranting so much, that last part might be me dumping my whole hc at you I'm sorry!!! I feel really touched by your words and it has been sitting on my chest for a while and seeing bkdk still ten million miles away from being canonically endgame is so frustrating hsgdjaksh

WOW HI !!! i hope u're having a good day/night too anon and thank u !!! :D

i'm really honored my words reached you! as a queer asian, i completely agree with everything you said here. i'm also in the boat where i don't think bkdk will be officially canon, despite how many bkdks think they will. i think it's a very inherently naive thought that a japanese shounen series of mha's size and caliber will confine to western lgbt standards. it's just not that easy! and i've ranted in length about my pessimism ... and i will continue to stay that way until i'm definitively proven wrong LOL (i hope i am btw!!!)

there's definitely something inherently queer asian about bkdk's relationship, if they were to hypothetically be canon. i completely agree that, imo, they'll only be considerably queerplatonic if they're any type of queer at all. hoping for a more "proudly gay" bkdk is nice, but pretty unlikely all things considered. being "proudly gay", like completely coming out of the closet and disregarding what society/family has to say about you, isn't as simple in asian communities. being quietly and humbly queer is something i, and many queer asians, resonate with a lot! that's just as valid as being loudly and unabashedly queer!

if bkdk becomes officially, loudly, and excessively canon then that'd be incredible!!! i won't push it away in the slightest!!! it'd be a great push for shounen jump and a sign that more lgbt stories can exist, even if they're at mha's size!!! more acceptance of marginalized communities is always good!!!

but i also think that bkdks who refuse to accept bkdk not being canon because not being openly official = not good/queer enough, should perhaps open their minds more to what society mha is written in. smaller showcases of closeness, comfort and camaraderie can be just as queer as shouting it from the rooftops. that's good enough! and if that's what bkdk gets in the end, then i'll be satisfied, even if horikoshi doesn't confirm their relationship :>

(and AAAA no worries!!! hey i love talking about bkdk in relation to asian queerness, so u're good!)

#asks for becki #bakudeku #bkdk

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rairaiccu · 9 months

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COLLABS WITH E

My lovely art friend, mattilaart (go check them out!!!), has done so many collabs with me (and more is in progress and incoming!!!)

First off, moodboard & playlist + switch the art

We created our own Pinterest moodboards and Spotify playlists for inspo.

1. Create moodboards & playlists for inspo 2. SWITCH - the sketch 3. SWITCH - lineart 4. SWITCH - flat colouring 5. SWITCH - rendering 6. SWITCH - final touches and watermarks

E's moodboard & playlist

youtube

Finished work

sketch, flat colouring: me | lineart, rendering: E

My moodboard & playlist

youtube

Finished work

sketch, flat colouring: E | lineart, rendering: E

Next collab: Zineton 2022

Zineton is a zine challenge in which you can participate regardless of your location in Finland or abroad. The weekend-long event takes place every autumn. Basically you have 48 hours to create a zine from scratch! The hosts give you a theme and mandatory elements, so you have to make something entirely new.

More info about Zineton:

We participated Zineton in 2022 with teamname "Mie & Sie" ("me and you" in our local dialect).

Our theme was "Delicate delivery" and the mandatory elements were "wellness tip" and "mask". There were five themes and the mandatory elements were the same for everyone.

just look at E's talent!!! insane skills

Our zine is called "Rakastan, kyllä rakastan" (lit. "I love, I truly love"). It is a Finnish version of "she loves me, she loves me not". Unfortunately, we haven't translated the zine in English, so I will give you a summary:

The story of the zine is about the importance of confessing your feelings. The boy wrote a love letter to a girl, before she leaves to the army. He told in his letter, he cannot keep up the act and wear the mask anymore. They have been best friends since preschool, but when he looks her, he freezes, his brain malfunctions, his legs turns into spaghetti. "An anxious person is advised to breathe, but how does that help when you take my breath away?" He has asked from daisies that does she feel the same, and now he asks from her: do you?

We absolutely A D O R E this 8-page long zine! The plot, the characters, the layout/graphics, the art??? speechless.

E handled the graphics and layouts and I did the art. We built the story together.

And honestly?

Page 6????

THAT SMILE????????????

We must protect her by all costs!!!

Every zine got its own honorable mention, and here is ours:

"A warm and really touching work about feelings and their importance."

You can read our zine (and other ones as well!) from here:

We are going to attend this year's Zineton 2023! Can't wait to see what we'll come up with this time <3

#rairai #rairaioc #rairaioctekla #zine #zine promo #art zine #zineton #graphic design #graphic art #graphic novel #web graphics #collaboration #art collab #Youtube

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vinjaryou · 2 years

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@mahkohime requested my take on Vincent Valentine for the headcanon meme, and so here goes (also I apologize for the delay in answering, whee). send me a character and I’ll do this:

Sexuality Headcanon: Bisexual/Pansexual Gender Headcanon: Cis male A ship I have with said character: Vincent/Reilena. yes, it’s canon/oc. A BROTP I have with said character: Valenwind; Cid Highwind proclaimed them best friends, and Vincent’s absolutely okay with that (now). VinVeld is queer-platonic (they have that closeness you only get with being best friends with a former romantic partner). A NOTP I have with said character: I have romantic ships I don’t prefer (i.e. Yuffentine and Valenwind to me are platonic/best friends), but the only ones that really make me go “nope” full-stop are Vincent/Hojo and Vincent/Shelke. A random headcanon: Vincent has an artistic side, and has a tendency to doodle/sketch on available surfaces if given the opportunity. General Opinion over said character: I love him a very normal amount (I can talk about him forever, don’t get me started), your honor, and goddammit he deserves to be happy. (also DoC deserves love, too) (okay I’m done. for now.)

#thanks for the ask!#mahkohime #vincent fucking valentine #look i just really love him okay #don't mind me #now just sit and stare at the pretty i wouldn't blame you in the least #also HI PLS KEEP IN MIND THESE ARE HEADCANONS AND OPINIONS feel free to send me asks about them but do not come at me angrily #and a lot goes with shit i've written & outlined so i welcome curiosity!

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

Note

HEEYYY! CONGRATS ON 800 LOVE<3 How are you?

It sounded too fun for me to not join your celebration so here it is! i wanna say grishaverse like any character from both book series and i don't have a gender preference and ofc romantically cause i have no romance in my life.

Next year i'm going to study english literature in uni as a second language and i have always wanted to be a writer so studying literature is something i'm really exited about. I'm an enfp! My best friend once said my personality is like Elizabeth bennet's and i never forget that cause it's such an honor. i usually hyperfixate on reading or i binge watch and in the end i burn out for a few days. I LOVE drawing but i can't draw so it's always so funny when i try. I love harry potter's opening music(?) It's SO comforting. i don't use any social media very actively because i get overwhelmed by it really easy. And i apparently love oversharing on the internet.

Im sorry this is long i got carried away. Thank you for existing and please don't forget to drink water and eat, have really great day/night, love you<3

hi!

thank you for participating :)

i’m good btw, thanks for asking. i hope you’re good too. first of all, taste. i adore james potter. you and me sound very similar actually, i bet you’re really fun to hang out with.

anyways, i ship you with nikolai!

being a prince, he’s probably done his fair share of reading. i don’t think he reads in his free time, but i do think he’d appreciate a good book or quote. so while he might not read, maybe he’d ask you to read it him or tell him what the book you’re reading is about. and if you were writing, he’d be happy to bounce ideas off you so he could help. might as well put that high education to good use. and i think he loves music. “its enough to make a grown man cry,” is definitely something he’d say to you when he found a piece that he really loved.

i think he’d get along well with an enfp. elizabeth bennet is probably one of his ideal personalities that he’d want in a partner, so if you’re like that, he’d count himself lucky. someone who’s outgoing enough to keep a conversation going, but also someone content to just be calm and serene with him. he’d definitely love witty banter, but he’d also love some peace and quiet too, except i don’t think he likes being alone. so being with someone who’s happy to just be in his presence, and be there if he needs someone to talk to, he’d really value that.

i think he really understand burnout. he constantly has a million things running through his head, and tons of ideas, and there’s just no time to execute them all. once he did have time for his ideas, he’d get really frustrated when he couldn’t execute them well. he’d need some kind distraction, and you’d be more than happy to provide one.

he’d hear you coming, immediately relaxing when you took a seat beside him. “hello, darling.”

“are you alright?” you’d ask, frowning when he rested his head on your shoulder and sighed. “bad day?”

“very long day,” he’d answer, reaching for one of your hands. “waste of time, too.”

he’d show you his sketches he drew up when trying to create the flying ship, and you’d smile, taking a piece of parchment and a quill from him.

“i’ve got this,” you’d grin, immediately sketching away. you knew it would be terrible, but the smile on his face would be worth it.

he’d laugh so hard that he’d nearly make himself sick, settling himself into your arms. he’d consider getting you lessons, but he knew you didn’t draw because you wanted to be a great artist. it was purely for fun, and it made you smile, just like you made him smile.

“it’s terrible, darling,” he’d say, wrapping one arm around you while holding the parchment in the other. “i love it!”

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #800 followers #800 followers celebration #followers celebration

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lilisbigworld · 2 years

Note

Anakin sheds many happy tears the day he receives your letter, clearing his schedule for the rest of the evening so he can sit down, read it through a few times, and then write back.

Lili,

I'm so glad to hear from you, you have no idea. I... can't believe you thought I would ever ask you for a divorce- that is certainly something I'd do in person. But it's nothing I ever intend on doing. You're stuck with me, Lili. I hate to tell you.

Being a Jedi is definitely... I'm really thankful for the opportunity and I'm honored that Qui-Gon thought I was special enough to pick up. But I do really miss home. I miss the suns, I miss home, I miss the food, I miss you and mom. Kit. Mala. I miss everything about home. I get so homesick sometimes that I don't know what to do with myself.

It's cold here. Much colder. I shiver at night sometimes, even under two blankets. I wish you were here. We always did make each other so very warm despite the harsh desert coldness.

But enough complaining, I guess. In all seriousness, being a Jedi is really awesome. It makes me feel good to be a hero and to see peoples' faces light up when they see the good that we do. And my lightsaber is really cool. It's blue, with a beautiful handle- I'll send you a sketch of it maybe.

I have a few friends here. Aayla, Ben, Quin, Orin, and a few others. Some are... not so kind. They call me names and say things about mom that I could never have even imagined. But it's okay. I just don't really go anywhere alone anymore.

You've sent me so much to discuss- I don't know where to begin.... I'm sorry, I might just send a bunch of questions asking for specifics. You don't have to answer all of them:

I'm really sorry to hear of your mom passing... she was a wonderful lady and I miss her as if she was my own mother. What happened, if you don't mind me asking?

Who proposed to you? Anyone that I would know?

My mother is free? I'm so happy to hear that, though I admit I'm... sort of wary of her having a new family. What if she forgets about me? What if she likes her new children better than me?

Does my mom think about me often? I hope so. I think about you two all the time, sometimes so heavily that I can't focus on anything else.

How often do the slaves come into town? I'm afraid it'll only be so long before the humans don't win, and they're eliminated once the Tuskens get even angrier.

Today I found the best piece of starfruit I think I've ever had in my life. I cried when it was all gone. I will send you some starfruit soon, I promise.

I send you all my love, hugs, kisses, and everything in between. Please write back soon. I can't wait to hear from you.

Ani <3

He packs up the letter along with several sketches of his- a lightsaber hilt, a robot he built recently, Ben drinking tea in the morning, a Coruscanti sunrise & sunset pair, and one of you.

The letter arrives in about two weeks due to a mailing malfunction that set everyone's deliveries back massively.

I smile excitedly as Deval delivers this letter, opening the envelope excitedly to read, even at the counter at the store.

Before I leave, I sneak into the back and steal a few envelopes of my own and some nice paper so that I can write him back,

The letter doesn’t arrive for a month as I spend my spare time knitting him a rough, Bantha wool blanket, packing it in a box that is half falling apart before sending it with the letter,

Ani,

Your life as a Jedi sounds as wonderful as Kit and I used to say it was when we were little. Speaking of Jedi, you stole my Kenobi card, I’d like it back, Kit is bullying me about it. I have spent my time knitting you this blanket in hopes that it helps your cold nights. There’s nothing warmer than bantha wool and I didn’t know if you had any on Coruscant.

I love your lightsaber sketch! It is so pretty! It is crazy to me to think you fight and learn with that every day. I believe you are far more learned and fancy than I could ever be. I am glad you have friends and I vote you punch the bullies. That’s what Kit does!

On to your questions:

My mom died a month after you stopped writing, it was sudden. They say she had a stroke. I woke up one morning and she didn’t and that was that. Shmi watched me for three years before she left a few months ago.

I don’t believe you’d know who proposed to me, but it was a depur. He apparently has a thing… for children… yeah. I think I threw up several times that night.

Your mom thinks of you every single moment, of every single day. I wish I was lying, because the years of ‘I wonder what Ani is doing’ really became annoying. Kidding! Don’t worry, they don’t want any more kids and Owen is cool, but he couldn’t replace you. You’ve got different energies.

The Tuskens come in to town probably once a month now. My depur has given me a blaster to carry on me, as if that would even help. Kit walks me home every night now, though.

I have never had starfruit and I admit I don’t know what it is. I looked in the markets for it but apparently Tatooine does not get shipments of it.

Your drawing of me was so very sweet, but I believe it is my duty to tell you that I no longer look eight. ;). I am glad you remember my face well enough to draw me, though. I’ve put t on my wall, right next to the sketch of Kenobi since he is my celebrity crush. I mean, his hair is gorgeous. Gods.

I once again have enjoyed reading your words and I hope you write back again soon, I’m sorry my response to you took a month and a half. I hope you weren’t worried!

Speed to your wings!

Affectionately,

Lili

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things.

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows.

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again.

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him.

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia.

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat.

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

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labomi · 3 years

Text

a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for.

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy.

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up.

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness.

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp.

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind.

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch.

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body.

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock.

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

“Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.”

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release.

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again.

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness.

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

#tw dubcon #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #mine #n/sfw

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nanowrimo · 3 years

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Getting Started and Keeping Going with NaNoWriMo

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Inkstacks, a 2021 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a project-based platform and award-winning book featuring a Guided Path for writers. Today, long-time Wrimo and Inkstacks CEO Kimberly Cooper Griffin is here to share some tips for getting started with your novel:

Hello, fellow NaNoWriMo Writers!

This year marks my 10th anniversary of being a NaNoWriMo participant and previous winner. What a journey it has been. I started as an aspiring writer, and now I’m a published author with eight titles available and five others in the pipeline. And it all started with NaNoWriMo!

As most participants do, I started on Day One with an idea and the motivation to complete 50K words in 30 days, and with the wonderful encouragement provided by the team at NaNoWriMo, I did it. I slammed down all those words and then some. It was a thrilling experience and it proved to me I could do it—and I’ve done it multiple times since.

Looking back on that first year in 2011, the first thing that comes to mind is how much I’ve learned in the last ten years, and I wonder what I would have done differently knowing what I know now.

It came down to planning, which would have gotten me off to a stronger start; and transforming, because I didn’t know what to do with my beautiful new manuscript once I came down off of my NaNoWriMo winner’s high. Believe me, the high I had when I hit 50K was intense! As you can see, I’m still NaNoWriMo-ing 10 years later and I have no intention of breaking this particular addiction.

There you have it, my writer friends. I want to talk to you about:

Getting started and keeping going

It all comes down to planning and transformation.

Planning

A good foundation results in a strong story, and each of the elements of writing cobbled together creates a beautiful structure.

Taking time in the beginning to figure out a few key elements such as point of view, main plot points, and basic character aspects will not only help you get off to a strong start, it will help you power through the often difficult period in the middle when you’re trying to figure out what comes next.

Inkstacks has created eight simple worksheets to help any writer quickly set up the foundation of their project.

Go here to get your FREE WORKSHEETS and get a strong start on your NaNoWriMo project.

Transforming

Rewrites are where the magic happens.

For some writers, rewrites are the bane of their existence. They’ve written the story, and the last thing they want to do is write it again, and again, and…again. But, I’m here to tell you, it doesn’t have to be awful. In fact, rewrites are my favorite part of writing. I get to see the beauty and emotion of my words emerge and weave together to make a good story into a more powerful and evocative story.

There’s a reason why the first ‘go through’ is called the ugly first draft. Like an artist creating a work of art, there are layers to your masterpiece. In the beginning there is the first sketch, and then there’s the blocking, and finally comes the definition and details. Rewrites bring out the impact of the work, taking a great idea and making it brilliant. To me, there is no better accomplishment as a writer than to take a handful of common words and transform them into a meaningful and clever sentence that carries my voice and imagination beyond the confines of a page.

When you get to the end of your NaNoWriMo month and you have your winning 50K words, Inkstacks would be honored to help you transform your ugly first draft into the magical manuscript you want it to be.

Go here to get your Magical Rewrites Project.

Plus, all NaNoWriMo participants can receive 25% off all Inkslinger products by entering NANOWRIMO21 into the coupon code field in the Inkstacks webstore!

Your words are magic and the world needs your story.

Best of luck and early congratulations on making your dream come true.

With writerly love,

Kimberly Cooper Griffin CEO Inkstacks – For Writers

Kimberly Cooper Griffin is a software engineer and an award-winning author. Her career in technology has spanned three decades, including work at several successful startups that have made it to the Fortune 500. With a breadth of experience that focuses on customer success, she has woven together her solutions-based mindset, technical aptitude, and a passion for writing to co-found Inkstacks.

#nanowrimo #nano prep #writing #amwriting #nanowrimo 2021 #first draft #by nano sponsor #inkstacks #kimberly cooper griffin

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alluringjae · 3 years

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until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

⤑ ctto above!!

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

343 notes · View notes

hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Gold Writing

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When a charming, handsome stranger gives you inspiration for the first time in weeks, you try to guess what it is he’s famous for in exchange for his name. Warnings: none at all :) A/N: Just a little idea I’d been toying around with for a bit. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot

Disclaimer: Gif and picture not mine

It was an uncharacteristically warm day for this time of year in New York City. Or so you’d been told, anyway. You had been living here for three months, tops; not really long enough to have a feel for the weather patterns. Either way, you were grateful for the sun’s rays coating your face, bathing you in their heat.

You turned your face away from the sky and down towards the sketchbook in your lap. It had been your hope that Central Park might inspire you, but you were still having artist’s block. It was at least better than being cooped up in your apartment all day. You didn’t really know anyone yet, save for your old friend who you had moved in next to. If it hadn’t been for them encouraging you, you probably never would have packed up and moved. They’d promised to introduce you to some people they knew, too, so you wouldn’t get lonely. Sadly, the scheduling never worked out.

And so, here you were, alone on a bench. Looking at all the couples and families and friends bustling and laughing around you, you thought you might be the only person all by yourself on this Saturday afternoon. Well, no, not the only one, you realized, spying a raven-haired man on a bench not too far away. His nose was buried in a book, a few locks of his shiny, dark hair falling out of his bun and framing his face. He looked familiar, but not in a "you knew him" sort of way. More in that you thought he might be famous somehow. No one else seemed to notice him, though.

You glanced back down at the empty pages, waiting to be filled by the strokes of your pencil. Then you looked back at the mystery man again, scooting a little closer to the end of your bench. Without really thinking about it, your deft fingers picked up your standard 2B pencil and began to sketch.

Starting with the sharp lines of his jaw, you moved onto his hair that intrigued you so. You don’t think you’d ever seen another person with hair that dark a color. Trying to get every last detail right, you kept glancing up and down. By the time you were onto the shading, you were certain that you had seen him somewhere before. The next time you glanced up, he was gone, and a frown settled on your features as you looked left and right, searching for the only subject to inspire you in days.

“It is a lovely drawing, darling,” a smooth baritone voice with a British accent said from behind you, “but I do not really think that is my best angle.”

You squeaked in surprise and dropped your sketchbook. The man somehow managed to reach out in front of you and catch it. He came to sit next to you, and as he walked around the bench, you realized just how tall he was.

“I think you dropped this,” he said with a charming smile, handing your sketchbook to you.

“I, uh, yeah. I did,” you stammered, hating how you couldn’t be as suave as him. Plus, he was unfairly good looking. “Thank you. And, um, sorry. About, you know, drawing you.”

“On the contrary, darling, there is no need to apologize. I am quite happy to have my likeness captured in such a flattering light,” he chuckled, taking off his sunglasses and revealing his brilliant blue-green eyes. “Really, I should be thanking you.”

With all the small details you were gathering, it felt like his name was on the tip of your tongue. Infuriatingly enough, you still couldn’t place it. You didn’t think he was a singer, that didn’t feel right. Though you did feel like his mesmerizing voice would be well suited to it. So, a well-known author, perhaps? He had been reading, after all. But you were woefully behind on your own reading list, so you had a feeling it wasn’t that either. You briefly wondered what even happened to the book he’d had; it was nowhere on him, almost like he’d stored it in some pocket of space.

“Oh,” you finally responded, nervously laughing. “You’re welcome, in that case. And thank you. For the compliments, I mean.”

“Ah, you are very welcome, too. It is not often I meet such a talented artist.” He somehow managed to sprawl out on the somewhat uncomfortable park bench, his long legs spread wide. It wasn’t indecent, exactly, but it somehow felt like it was. His arms were resting on the back of the seat so that, had you been leaning back, one of them would have been wrapped around your shoulder. “I do somehow find it hard to believe I was the most interesting thing in the vicinity, however. Though, I suppose I am rather flattered by that notion, too.”

His mischievous grin sent pleasant shivers down your spine. “Well, when inspiration strikes,” you anxiously chuckled with a shrug. Your nerves were still telling you he was about to get mad at any second.

“I do suppose that is true.” He cocked his head at you in the most adorable way. “Then I am honored to provide you with it.”

You suddenly felt even warmer than you had before, but you knew it had nothing to do with the sun anymore, but rather was from this enrapturing stranger. Though, this man’s smile certainly rivaled the sun.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking,” you began, “but you seem awfully familiar. You don’t happen to be famous, do you?”

“Oh, so you have not yet figured it out, then. I had been wondering. I suppose that, yes, I could be considered famous.”

When he didn’t say anything else, you continued, “Can I get a name then? I’m afraid I don’t really keep up with pop culture all that much.”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you my name.” His grin somehow grew to be even more mischievous. “But where is the fun in that? Besides, I am afraid you might start treating me differently if you knew.”

“Ok, that’s fair.” A spark of excitement lit behind your eyes as you got an idea and turned to face the captivating stranger. “How about this, I get three guesses about what it is you’re known for. If I get it right, you have to tell me your name. If not, then it can stay a mystery forever, if you want it to.”

“A most intriguing proposition. Alright, I accept. First guess?”

“Hang on,” you said, putting up your hand. “If I only get three guesses, I feel like it would be fair if I got to talk to you for a bit longer, at least. Unless I’m holding you up from something, of course.”

“I have time to spare, darling.” He stood up and offered you his hand. “Join me on a walk?”

An easy dialogue flowed between you as you strolled through the park. The way the light was illuminating his features made your hands itch to sketch him again. That reminded you to ask about his book, which he pulled out from seemingly nowhere.

“Hang on,” you said, getting your first idea. “Are you like a-a magician or a, um, an illusionist or something?”

“Well, it is interesting that you mention that. Magic is more a hobby than anything else,” he replied. “But not what I am known for, per se. Two guesses left.”

You frowned and flipped through the pages of the book he’d handed you. Hoping he’d made some kind of foolish error, you checked the covers for his name. No such luck. Absorbed in your hunt for clues, you weren’t paying attention to the world around you. Your companion suddenly grabbed you and jerked you to a stop. A ball whizzed past your head. If you’d kept walking, it surely would have hit you.

“You really should be more careful,” he playfully tsked. Then he grew more serious as he gently turned your head, checking for injuries. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling flustered from the attention of his piercing gaze. He also felt surprisingly cool for how warm out it was. You looked up at him and saw him raising his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe you. “I’m fine, really,” you added more convincingly. “Just my pride that’s wounded, I guess. But you stopped me in time. So, thank you.”

“It was no problem, darling,” he replied as you set off on the path again. “After all, I can’t have you getting hurt before you finish guessing, now can I?”

Again, you giggled, simultaneously loving and hating how he had that effect on you. “No, I guess not.”

“So, have you found whatever it is your looking for in my book?”

Glancing down at the page you had open, you saw it was the story of Rumpelstiltskin. How ironic. You tried to forge a connection between the book of fairytales and this man in your mind, but were coming up empty. Unless, of course, he was going to the source material for some reason, like he was preparing for a role.

“An actor!” you said, feeling sure you’d gotten it now. You’d definitely felt like you’d seen him on your TV screen before. Plus, he was definitely handsome enough for it. “That’s got to be it.”

“While I have appeared on television before, that is still incorrect, darling. One guess remaining.”

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smug yet ridiculously captivating grin from his face. Maybe with a kiss... Nope, no. That was ridiculous; you just met him. Besides, he was famous. Why on God’s green earth would he be interested in you as anything more than an entertaining encounter to pass the afternoon? So, you’d just have to do it with the right guess. You put your thinking cap on.

“Ok, well if you were on TV but aren’t an actor, maybe it was in an interview,” you thought out loud, gauging his reaction. You were excited, but also sad that your game was coming to a close. He’d surely leave after, whether you got it right or not. You supposed you could always try to look it up once you got home, if you couldn’t guess correctly. At least it would make for a fun story then. “I suppose there’s reality shows too, but that doesn’t quite seem your style. And, I guess you could be doing the interviewing—like a reporter or something—but that doesn’t sit quite right either. Sports! They televise sports. Plus I’m not really a fan, so I could believe I’ve heard of you but not totally recognize you. So, my final guess is athlete.”

“And you are certain that is your final guess?” He had a wonderful poker face and gave away nothing as to whether or not it was right. “Last chance to turn back.”

You appraised him, thinking he looked like he could be an athlete. And maybe it was some reverse psychology, trying to get you to abandon the correct guess. You didn’t really have any better ideas, anyway.

“Yes?”

“So sorry, but that is incorrect. And you are regretfully out of guesses, darling.”

“Of course it's not,” you sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened by how dismayed you seemed, so you perked up. “It was fun, though. So I, uh, I guess I won’t hold you up any longer.”

“You are correct; this was quite fun. Unfortunately, I do have another arrangement to get to,” he said in a way that made you believe he was actually upset over it. “How about that sketch that started this all, though? That one you made of me?”

“What of it?” you asked.

“May I buy it off of you?”

Your mouth formed a surprised little circle. “I mean, you can honestly have it for free. It is an unsolicited picture of you, after all. I wouldn’t feel right accepting your money for it.”

“Nonsense, I am only offering a small amount, anyway. Say, the price of a cup of coffee?”

You smiled at your feet as you caught onto what he was saying. It made your insides feel fuzzy. Maybe you wouldn’t accept, though. After all, you still didn’t know who he was. But if you were to go on a date, then certainly he would tell you.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I would love that.”

You tore out the sketch and handed it to him. In exchange, he gave you his card and said to call him to set a time and place. You glanced down at the small paper in your hands, not yet reading it. By the time you looked back up, he was already gone. With your handsome stranger nowhere to be found, you went to actually read his information. Unable to contain your surprise, not to mention shock at how foolish you were, you gasped, and your jaw hung open.

Gold writing on a green card held the secret you’d been trying to find the answer to all afternoon. Of course he was an Avenger, a hero. You ran your fingers over his name, a small smile forming on your lips. You quickly punched the contact into your phone and headed off in the direction of your apartment.

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t goodbye, Loki Laufeyson,” you mused to yourself, relishing in the way his name rolled off your tongue. “I’ll see you soon.”

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erismerald · 3 years

Text

𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 (Jacob Frye x reader) 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 2

Hello creed, I bring you here the second chapter of my Jacob Frye fanfic, I hope you like it and maybe I would like to remind you that my requests are always open in case someone is interested!

Without further ado, stay safe, and happy reading!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Fluff and a bit of teasing ;)

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3953

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝟏𝟖𝟔𝟖

Your head hurt a little, and your vision was blurred, you felt moving but you were still, you looked around, the environment you were in was different from the wet and scary street, with a little more effort, you tried to look for details that would help you identify where you were, you were on a train. ... but how? the room you were in was well decorated, you knew that style well, your nanny was doing her best to decorate every part of the house with the rustic and elegant theme of the Victorian era, so none of that had been a dream?

You sat up in bed, feeling your body weakened, you took a deep breath and gained strength to pull yourself together, the clothes you were wearing were different, it was a nightgown, made of cotton, all black with gold details on the sleeves, after all you had really traveled in time. ... but how was that possible, one moment you were with your friends and the next you were alone in the world, flash all the memories of last night had burst into your mind, the dark street, the rain... the man who tried to abuse you, and your savior, who was he? was it him that brought you here? doubts hovered empty in your consciousness, you looked at your wrists small black marks tinged your skin, you felt pain when the palm of your fingers ventured to touch them, without realizing it you let out a 'auch', you couldn't control the fear you felt, you were alone. You wanted your grandmother by your side to calm you down, you grabbed your knees and pulled them up to your chest, and laid your head down lightly letting the tears run down your face, feeling them fall on your hands, you felt small, you felt abandoned.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened revealing a woman, still quite young she must have been in her early twenties, she smiled sweetly at you, no matter how hard you tried to hide under the blanket, that smile warmed your heart and made you smile back.

"I see you're awake at last" She approached with a tray of food that she set down on top of the couch where you were lying "My name is-" she was interrupted by a man, you recognized him, he had been the one to save you, your heart pounded hard when your gaze met.

"Ahhh finally, I'll be able to sleep in my room again" he laughed sitting down in the armchair opposite you, you bowed your head in shame

"Jacob! The girl just woke up, and you're already being a real jerk, I can't believe you're my brother sometimes" The girl said turning her attention back to you " Dear ignore him, he's just a jerk, how do you feel?"

"I... I'm confused just... I feel sick and hot" your voice came out shaky, you were nervous.

"It's because of the fever the doctor said you would feel like this for a few days, but that you would be fine, what's your name?" The girl asked meekly, sitting down in front of you, your gaze shifted a little to the man sitting in front of you, he seemed asleep.

"M-my name is Y/n L/n" again your voice betrayed you, as you said your name the girl looked shocked but interested in you.

"Your family is a great help to our brotherhood, it is an honor to have you here with us!" The girl said with a gentle smile kissing her lips, a feeling of hope embraced your body, would there still be a way back home? But in a flash, you recalled what she had said.

"M-my family? how do you know them?" you asked pulling your body forward-facing the two people sitting in front of you.

"The L/N family has always been a great help in training young assassins" Assassins? What? you didn't want to believe what you heard, all the memories were joining the truth about your family, the story your grandmother told you and you preferred not to believe was really true? It wasn't possible, but why now? why now that you had decided to find out who you were? Why now that you have finally traveled to London? And who were the people in front of you? The girl stood up and stretched her hand towards you "My name is Evie Frye, and that idiot over there is my twin brother Jacob Frye" the words that came out of her lips were like glass tearing your mind, you felt dizzy as if you couldn't breathe right, was all that true? Wasn't it possible? Was it? But how did you end up in their time? Was your grandmother right, weren't they just children's stories?

"How is it possible?" you whispered, both brothers looked at you curiously, " No, it can't be real, I must be dreaming... "Your gaze was fixed on your hands resting on the thin cloth that covered your body, crystal clear tears came out of your eyes, Evie seeing your reaction to finding out who they were hugged your body and pulled you in, you hid your face to her shoulder, letting the sadness leave your heart.

A few minutes passed, but it seemed like hours, your body was still weak from crying, in 18 years of life you had never cried so much, you took a deep breath, hugging Evie's body tightly.

"I know very well who you are" you finally said, Evie knelt down beside the sofa looking puzzled at you.

"How do you know us, love?" Jacob said getting up from the armchair and staring at you, he was much taller than you, and you felt a little embarrassed to feel his gaze fixed on yours, in one small movement you looked away from Evie, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage to expose your whole story.

"My name is Y/n L/n but I am not from here... in fact until a few minutes ago I believed that you two were part of the stories my grandmother used to tell me when I was younger... "I know well who my family is, I just didn't know their true position in this brotherhood, my grandmother used to tell me stories of the Frye twins and the adventures of the assassins to free London from the grasp of the Templars, but I always believed that you were a lie, I am not from here, nor from this time and I honestly don't know how I got here," you said between sobs, raising one of your hands to your face wiping the tears that were falling "I don't even know why I came here, for one second I was in 2020 and the next I traveled back in time to here. .. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY! I WAS JUST TRYING TO FIND OUT WHO I WAS, WHY DID I HAVE TO VISIT LONDON AND IGNORE ALL THE WARNINGS MY GRANDMOTHER GAVE ME? WHY DID SHE LET ME COME? DID SHE KNOW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?" Your crying turned into anger, you felt like your body was going to collapse, you felt dizzy, everything was becoming blurry but something broke your fall and held you tight, with the tremendous effort you looked up to see what had happened, the next thing you knew you were in Jacob's arms, he protected you from falling or passing out, you wanted to talk but all you could say was 'ahh' or 'I...'.

"Okay love I know it's a lot to process but you're not alone here, you have us now, we'll take care of you," Jacob said stroking your hair and holding you close to his body, the beating of his heart helped you calm down. "Now what do you mean 2020? We can tell you're not from here but did this happen? Evie?" Jacob called his sister's name they both looked at each other, and after a few seconds, Evie had an idea.

"Let's wait for you to recover so you can tell us everything straight so we can understand what's going on, but..." Evie stopped sighing "Until you can get back home we have to make you unnoticed, we have to make you mix with the people of our time, only then you will be safe, and since your family is a big influence here in London we can visit them and try to ask for help, what do you think?" Evie smiled at you and you smiled back, you felt your eyes grow tired, and without much effort, you fell asleep.

Your eyes opened slowly, it was hard to sleep with the storm of thoughts that rambled through your mind, occupying every neuron, it was still night, you looked at the clock on the desk, it was 4 am, still so early and you were already so awake, you couldn't deny that you felt anxious and nervous with what was happening, Your body moved from side to side on the sofa where you slept, the rain hit the glass loudly, the sound of the wheels on the rails, the wind whistled lulling your body, but you couldn't sleep anymore, the stress, the fear, the frustration of not being home, it was agonizing, you stared at the ceiling, thinking, those memories were still very fresh in your mind, it would take a while to accept.

With a little effort you pushed your body up, sitting down and crossing your legs, the window above your head was splashed with raindrops that slid with speed, the landscape was beautiful, the city lights in the background made your heart beat faster, Even in another epoch London was still London, still a beautiful, attractive city, without you realizing it, a weak smile broke out on your lips, it was ironic that you wanted to visit a place so much and when you did it was as if it vanished through your fingers.

You observed the room and noticed your bag lying on the side of the sofa, with one hand you pulled yourself towards you and took out your drawing notebook, you appreciated the picture sticked on the leather cover, it was your grandfather who had made it, he made a dozen of them just for you, every time the pages of one finished, another one came on the scene, with canvas for more adventures and emotions, since you were very young that writing and drawing were a way to represent your emotions and represent the world you lived in.

With a few gestures you let your hand flow across the white page, drawing and sketching empty emotions but full of comfort, looking on the bright side, when you return you will always have something to show your grandmother, a memory, the sound of the pencil scratching the sheet of paper, soothed your heart so full of bitterness, 'so this is what it's like to discover who I am? Is this what you wanted me to see grandma?' you thought to yourself, is this the destiny that was destined for you?

You sighed and let your hand fall on your thigh, you looked forward, and saw Jacob's coat resting on the back of the armchair in front of you, a wave of warmth and embarrassment invaded your chest, you felt strange every time you thought about him, he was mysterious but gentle and protective, when you felt his body wrap around yours it seemed that they had connected to each other, and all the negative energies and scary thoughts disappeared, your heartbeat as he did, your breath calmed down as you felt his fingers tangle in your hair to comfort you, without a second thought, you began to draw his face on that once white page, you remembered every detail of his face, the two scars, his unshaven beard, his hazel eyes, his lips. ... he was an attractive man, you would never in your life think of meeting him, but now that you know him, he was something you didn't want to forget, you put the notebook against your chest and smiled like a little child, feeling butterflies playing with your belly.

But something interrupted the moment, that moment when you were no longer present on earth, you were lost, hidden in a world of thoughts:

" Rough night?" A voice coming from behind you, scared every inch of your body, you put your hand on your chest letting the notebook fall to the floor, you recognized the owner behind that hoarse and funny voice, Jacob laughed a little "I didn't want to scare you, love, I just came to check if you were okay and since I saw you were awake I decided to come in" Jacob said sitting next to you, his gaze crossed with yours. "How are you feeling?"

"I-im okay, and don't worry you didn't scare me, I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't even see you coming...." you replied shakily, like a leaf in the middle of a storm, his smile was directed at you, you could feel your face getting warm, it was obvious you were nervous, but why?

Jacob sat in the armchair in front of you, he looked tired, but more importantly, he was completely flushed, your gaze was fixed on his body, his hair was dripping, his breathing was racing, your heart was beating unregulated as if you were in a sprint, your breathing became heavy for a few moments.

"Do you like what you see love?" Jacob teased, bending his body forward, you jumped a little when hearing his voice, and quickly looked the other way, the rain was still beating strongly on the window, but the train had stopped, maybe because of the bad weather? "I was just messing with you, I just came from a mission, and well... since you are sleeping in my room and my stuff is here, I came straight to you." He laughed a little, his laugh was wonderful.

Even not looking directly at him you could feel his smile, unbelievably you were feeling calm again, your breathing was quiet, but you felt Jacob's gaze on your body, something captivated him about you, but he still couldn't know what it was, maybe because you were exotic? Because you were new to him, his gaze was fixed on your neck, the necklace that belonged to him was now adorning your neck.

"I wanted to thank you, Mister Frye, thank you for saving me from that... you know, I wanted to thank you earlier but, I've been busy with my mind-" Suddenly you felt his fingers slip up your neck to your jawline turning your face to face his, his curious gaze was focused on the necklace, he smiled.

"How funny I have a necklace just like that hanging around my neck, matching aren't we" Again his laughter filled the room, you couldn't contain yourself, and a small giggle broke out from your lips "Oh you do laugh too, you have a very adorable laugh" Your face flared, a pink color graced your cheeks as you heard his voice, he was so close. ... his scent intoxicated you, as if you were drunk on his scent alone, you felt your eyes getting heavier, but something woke you up, a fallen drop of Jacob's hair fell on your cheek.

"Shouldn't you take off your wet clothes, or at least dry yourself? Mister Frye you might catch a cold" the words escaped from your lips, the concern was explicit on your face, Jacob found it adorable, but he laughed a little, confused you looked at him pouting, you were just trying to help and he still laughed.

"Darling, my clothes are all here and if you haven't noticed, you're here, it would be inappropriate to undress in front of such a delicate lady, besides I'm used to it, after missions I usually go to some pub to celebrate with my rooks but Evie asked me to keep an eye on you, and I didn't want to leave you alone either," Jacob said sitting back in the chair.

You blushed but nodded, he was right, it wouldn't be appropriate, but something wandered in your mind, he didn't want to leave you alone? Jacob's watchful eyes noticed your notebook lying on the floor, he reached out to pick it up, you felt a wave of embarrassment and shame hit you like a stone, no, a bunch of them.

His fingers slid across the pages looking at the drawings, especially the one you had done the day you arrived in London, he looked like a child watching a cartoon on TV, he was mesmerized.

"Ahm Mister Frye, may I ask you something?" you asked as he looked at your notebook, he nodded without saying a word. "What was this mission you went on?" his gaze was still focused on the drawings, but he took a deep breath and answered finally.

"Y/n you know what an Assassin does right?" He asked, you nodded, waiting for his answer to continue "I was assigned to kill templars and free London from the disgusting and profiteering clutches of theme, today I helped rescue some of my rooks who were taken hostage in the middle of one of their rounds when they warned me,

I ran immediately to save them, they are like a family

family, and I as their leader have to help and protect them.

His words were like melodies, he sounded just like the way your vein described, ruthless, brave, gentle and playful, fearless, you smiled, was it possible for a man like that to be true? Was it even possible that your childhood hero was right there in front of you watching your drawings? Was it really true that after many years of hearing about him, you were having a conversation with him? You felt so confident that for a few minutes you forgot that you were stuck in 1800.

"You are really brave Jacob..." Finally, you said, slowly removing the necklace from your neck and holding it between your fingers, circling it from side to side. "You know I spent years adoring you... wanting to be like you and Evie, my grandmother spent years telling me about your adventures, I remember when I was younger and climbing up on the roof, jumping from window to window pretending to be you, pretending to be with you, and well. ... years later here I am in front of you, talking to my idol, and I still don't know how to react to this situation" You laughed a little sarcastically. You were nervous but you knew you could trust him, when you looked ahead again his gaze went through every detail of the drawing you had made of him, he seemed excited.

"I thank you Y/n, for idolizing me when you were younger, it must come as a shock to you, finally meeting me hum?" He said with a tinny smirk on his lips.

"W-well it is but I think you can even exceed my expectations Mister Frye" You laughed nervously, you tried to avoid looking at him, you were afraid you wouldn't know how to react.

"How do you feel about your family belonging to the brotherhood?" He questioned you as he put your notebook down on the desk next to him, you sighed, honestly you didn't even know what to say, or what to think about it, of course, you knew for many years that your family came from a long line of assassins but, you preferred to believe that it was a lie or just another story invented by your grandmother to entertain your creative mind during the most starry nights, you never imagined that they were real, and you still thought that taking someone's life for the sake of a brotherhood or to protect others was wrong, and you didn't want to be associated with that, so you forgot that story, and went on with your life, but now that you knew that they were real, you were a little afraid to confront them.

"I... honestly I don't know how to answer you, when I was younger, I heard the stories told by my grandmother over and over again, but I never thought that they were real, and even when she talked about the brotherhood I... preferred to ignore it, in my view, it isn't right to kill someone, I thought that the assassins were cruel monsters who had no feelings, so I never really wanted to know that part of the story, but I confess that I am afraid to confront them tomorrow..." Jacob seemed to understand what you were feeling his eyes were downcast, you could hear his heavy breathing, you felt a little worried, would you said something wrong, but something surprised you when his gaze met yours you could see a little fear and sadness in his gaze.

"Do you think I'm a monster?" Jacob asked getting up and walking towards you again, you felt your body harden like a stone, your heart was beating uncontrollably, you couldn't think of anything to answer him, he knelt in front of you, still with his gaze fixed on yours, you couldn't even think, he was very close to you, his hand wrapped around yours and took the necklace you were holding between your fingers "Your grandmother gave you this didn't she? and by some fluke of life you came right to me... tell me Y/n even after I saved you, do you think I'm a monster?" His voice was husky, his touch made you sensitive, his smell made you dizzy, you are hypnotized.

"N-no, I don't think you're a monster, I... just didn't know much about.... I... and by some fluke of life you came right to me... tell me Y/n even after I saved you, do you think I'm a monster?" His voice was husky, his touch made you sensitive, his smell made you dizzy, you are hypnotized.

"N-no, I don't think you're a monster, I... just didn't know much about.... I..." Jacob's hand moved closer to your neck his fingers slid across your skin easily, you sighed deeply as you felt his skin in contact with yours, Jacob smiled, it was funny to see your submissive reaction to him, with a small gesture, he placed the necklace around your neck, caressing the back of it, but before he left, his breath-focused on your ear and with a whisper, he made your world crumble.

"Don't take this necklace off, so I'll always know why you're here"

He stood up and grabbed his coat, you were completely paralyzed, you were blushing, your breathing was heavy and panting, your gaze seemed glazed on him, he smiled and walked towards the door, but before disappearing into the darkness his voice echoed once again in the room "you better get some more rest Love tomorrow we have a long day, it was nice talking to you miss L/n". And with that he left you there alone, your heart pounding, panting, and nervous, your only thought was his voice softly caressing your ear.

You let your body fall back, staring at the window, and the rain sliding on it, you didn't realize that the train was moving again, you just let your mind wander, what would have happened if he stayed here?

Feelings and thoughts left you awake for the rest of the night, before you knew it the birds were already singing, the first rays of sunlight illuminated your smiling face.

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